Carved in Stone by Kate Douglas

wall of the cliffs was trampled flat, the grass and flowers crushed from many footsteps.
    A black slash in the wall marked the mine entrance. There was no sign of the men, so they must be inside the mine.
    Nate moved away from the protective cover of the forest, raced across a small open area on the far side of the helicopter and carefully climbed up a loose pile of rock near the base of the cliff. Out of the line of sight from the mine, he inched silently along on his belly, hiding behind scraggly shrubs growing near the rubble-strewn base until he reached an area just above the entrance. Carefully he crawled out onto a huge stone slab precariously balanced directly over the opening to the mine.
    The helicopter, the men, and the mine were just beneath him.
    Pressing his belly against the warm rock, Nate strained to hear the men inside.
    Their voices echoed, distorted by stone walls and distance. They had to be almost finished loading the helicopter, because the craft was too small to carry much cargo.
    Unless he or Alex could think of something soon, the trio would be airborne, the pottery lost.
    The voices drew closer. Nate had to get off the rock. Now. He glanced in Alex’s direction. She’d gone! He looked across the clearing and along the edge of the forest. Where the hell was she?
    Creeping forward on the rock, he risked exposure, but it was the only way to get a better view of the surrounding woods.
    He couldn’t see her anywhere.
    Voices directly below startled him. Nate was trapped, unprotected on a slab of rock a dozen feet off the ground. He held his breath, listening, then exhaled a long sigh of relief when the voices faded as the men retreated deeper into the mine.
    Suddenly movement, a slight motion near the small craft, caught his attention. Alex? What the hell!
    As if she’d heard his silent imprecation, Alex glanced his way. Nate felt the connection cross the distance between them.
    What was she doing?
    He started to back down the rock, then stopped. She was reaching into the helicopter’s engine compartment, doing something to the vast array of cables and wires and parts that were the guts of the thing.
    Unsure whether to laugh at her audacity or curse out of fear for her, Nate moved faster. His boot slipped. Small pebbles bounced and skittered down the steep surface. The gravelly clatter stopped him, stopped his breathing and his inaudible cursing. Nate clung to the rock, fighting gravity, praying that no one in the mine had heard the noise.
    “Hey, Sid. Didja hear that?”
    “Yeah. It’s just Ed.”
    “No, Ed’s with me. Check on it, will ya?”
    Nate felt his fingers slipping, his grip on the rock’s steep surface giving way. He focused on Alex, watched her race from the helicopter back to the safety of the trees. A moment longer, that’s all she needed. He had to hold on!
    But he couldn’t. Skidding, tearing the skin from palms and fingertips and cheek, Nate slid the rest of the way down the slanted rock. He landed with a thud almost at Sid’s feet.
    “Hey, guys. Look what I found!”
    Nathan raised his head, then reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes. Cold steel against his temple stopped him.
    “Sit up. I want a look atcha.”
    Nate felt the rifle barrel bite into his temple.
    Slowly, so as not to offend Sid, Nate rolled into a sitting position and silently raised both hands. He linked his fingers together behind his head and quickly stole a glance in the direction of the helicopter.
    No sign of Alex. Thank God.
    “Well, well. One of our tourists, Sidney?” Ed walked around in front of Nate. He motioned to the cowboy to pull the gun barrel back from Nate’s temple. Nate felt the slight hesitation before Sid complied.
    Ed knelt, putting himself on eye level with Nate. “We saw two tents. Where’s your friend?”
    “I’m alone.” Nate’s answer drew a cruel smile from Sid, a sadistic cackle from Ed.
    “Two tents for one man? I don’t think so. And those cute little pink