them.
'Watch it!' Villiers said.
They crouched low. The driver jumped down from behind the wheel and Villiers heard him say in Spanish, 'This stinking engine again with the stinking oil that isn't supposed to freeze and turns into lumps instead. What are we doing in this place?'
He raised the bonnet to examine the engine. His friend got out still holding his rifle, and lit a cigarette.
'Okay, ease off,' Villiers whispered.
As they started to slide back from the rim, Korda put out a hand to steady himself. Rock and soil broke away suddenly and slid down the slope to the track below, gathering momentum.
The two Argentine soldiers cried out in alarm. The one with the rifle swung round, raising it instinctively and Harvey Jackson, having no choice, jumped up and cut him down with the silenced sub-machine gun. The only sound was the bolt reciprocating. The Argentinian's rifle flew into the air and he fell back against the truck.
The driver got his hands in the air fast and stood waiting as the four men went down the slope. Korda banged him against the truck, legs spread, and Jackson searched him with ruthless efficiency.
'Nothing,' he said to Villiers and turned the soldier round.
He was only a boy, no more than seventeen or eighteen and frightened to death.
'What's in the back?' Villiers demanded in Spanish.
'Supplies, equipment,' the boy said, eager to please. 'Nothing more, senor, I swear it. Please don't kill me.'
'All right.' Villiers nodded to Jackson. 'Take a look.'
He lit a cigarette and gave one to the boy whose hand shook as he accepted a light. The fear in him was so strong you could almost smell it.
Jackson came back. 'Must be sappers. Lots of landmines in there, explosives and so on.'
Villiers said to the Argentinian, 'You're with an engineering unit?'
'No,' the boy said. 'Transport. The men I took to Bull Cove last night, I think they were engineers.'
Bull Cove was a place Villiers and the patrol knew well. One of their first tasks on arrival had been to survey the area as a possible site to put more troops ashore behind the Argentinian lines when the push started from San Carlos. The cove had proved an admirable choice; well protected from the sea with a deep water channel through a narrow entrance above which stood a disused lighthouse. Villiers had sent in a favourable report.
'How many of them were there?'
'An officer and two men, senor. Captain Lopez. They unloaded a lot of equipment and then the Captain decided he needed some special fuses.' He took a crumpled list from his pocket. 'See, here it is, senor. He was sending me back to base for these things.'
Jackson looked over Villiers' shoulders. 'Kaden Pencils. That's pretty heavy stuff. What in the hell does he want that for?'
To blow up the lighthouse, senor.' the boy said patiently. 'And rocks, also, I think.'
To blow up the lighthouse?' Jackson said.
The boy nodded, 'Oh, yes, senor, I heard them discussing it.'
'Rubbish,' Jackson said. 'Why go to the trouble? It hasn't been used for thirty years. Doesn't make sense.'
'Oh, yes it does, Harvey,' Villiers said, 'if you consider its position on the rocks above the entrance. Bring it down, and you'll efficiently block the only deepwater channel into the cove.'
'Christ,' Jackson said. 'Then we'd better do something about it and fast.' He said to the boy in bad Spanish, 'How far is it from here on this track.'
'Fifteen or sixteen kilometres round the mountain.'
'Only not in this, not any more.' Villiers kicked the half-track. There was a strong smell of petrol and it dripped from the tank in a steady flow, melting the frozen ground. 'You did a pretty thorough job, Harvey.'
Jackson swore savagely. 'So what in the hell do we do?'
Villiers turned and looked up at the mountain towering into the mist. 'Bull Cove's directly on the other side. Say six miles. We'll do it the hard way. You, me, Korda. Leave all equipment behind. Sub-machine guns only. Now you'll find out what all that endurance
'Watch it!' Villiers said.
They crouched low. The driver jumped down from behind the wheel and Villiers heard him say in Spanish, 'This stinking engine again with the stinking oil that isn't supposed to freeze and turns into lumps instead. What are we doing in this place?'
He raised the bonnet to examine the engine. His friend got out still holding his rifle, and lit a cigarette.
'Okay, ease off,' Villiers whispered.
As they started to slide back from the rim, Korda put out a hand to steady himself. Rock and soil broke away suddenly and slid down the slope to the track below, gathering momentum.
The two Argentine soldiers cried out in alarm. The one with the rifle swung round, raising it instinctively and Harvey Jackson, having no choice, jumped up and cut him down with the silenced sub-machine gun. The only sound was the bolt reciprocating. The Argentinian's rifle flew into the air and he fell back against the truck.
The driver got his hands in the air fast and stood waiting as the four men went down the slope. Korda banged him against the truck, legs spread, and Jackson searched him with ruthless efficiency.
'Nothing,' he said to Villiers and turned the soldier round.
He was only a boy, no more than seventeen or eighteen and frightened to death.
'What's in the back?' Villiers demanded in Spanish.
'Supplies, equipment,' the boy said, eager to please. 'Nothing more, senor, I swear it. Please don't kill me.'
'All right.' Villiers nodded to Jackson. 'Take a look.'
He lit a cigarette and gave one to the boy whose hand shook as he accepted a light. The fear in him was so strong you could almost smell it.
Jackson came back. 'Must be sappers. Lots of landmines in there, explosives and so on.'
Villiers said to the Argentinian, 'You're with an engineering unit?'
'No,' the boy said. 'Transport. The men I took to Bull Cove last night, I think they were engineers.'
Bull Cove was a place Villiers and the patrol knew well. One of their first tasks on arrival had been to survey the area as a possible site to put more troops ashore behind the Argentinian lines when the push started from San Carlos. The cove had proved an admirable choice; well protected from the sea with a deep water channel through a narrow entrance above which stood a disused lighthouse. Villiers had sent in a favourable report.
'How many of them were there?'
'An officer and two men, senor. Captain Lopez. They unloaded a lot of equipment and then the Captain decided he needed some special fuses.' He took a crumpled list from his pocket. 'See, here it is, senor. He was sending me back to base for these things.'
Jackson looked over Villiers' shoulders. 'Kaden Pencils. That's pretty heavy stuff. What in the hell does he want that for?'
To blow up the lighthouse, senor.' the boy said patiently. 'And rocks, also, I think.'
To blow up the lighthouse?' Jackson said.
The boy nodded, 'Oh, yes, senor, I heard them discussing it.'
'Rubbish,' Jackson said. 'Why go to the trouble? It hasn't been used for thirty years. Doesn't make sense.'
'Oh, yes it does, Harvey,' Villiers said, 'if you consider its position on the rocks above the entrance. Bring it down, and you'll efficiently block the only deepwater channel into the cove.'
'Christ,' Jackson said. 'Then we'd better do something about it and fast.' He said to the boy in bad Spanish, 'How far is it from here on this track.'
'Fifteen or sixteen kilometres round the mountain.'
'Only not in this, not any more.' Villiers kicked the half-track. There was a strong smell of petrol and it dripped from the tank in a steady flow, melting the frozen ground. 'You did a pretty thorough job, Harvey.'
Jackson swore savagely. 'So what in the hell do we do?'
Villiers turned and looked up at the mountain towering into the mist. 'Bull Cove's directly on the other side. Say six miles. We'll do it the hard way. You, me, Korda. Leave all equipment behind. Sub-machine guns only. Now you'll find out what all that endurance
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