Cunningham here, is looking for her husband. We know he arrived in Bir el Madani two months ago. He intended to visit Shabwa for a few days. She hasn't heard from him since.'
Jordan took her hand, his face serious. 'I'm sorry to hear that, Mrs Cunningham.' He frowned slightly for a moment or two and then shook his head. 'No, I can't say I've heard of your husband. The headman of the village might be able to help.'
She turned to Kane and he nodded. 'I know the headman here - Omar bin Naser. If he knows anything he'll tell us.'
Jordan led her towards the Ford pick-up truck and handed her in. 'That's settled then. I'll drop you and Mrs Cunningham in the village, Kane. We'll see you sometime this afternoon. Marie and I have a hell of a lot to discuss.'
Marie squeezed into the front seat beside Ruth Cunningham, and Kane and Jamal sat in the back under the canvas awning. As they moved away, Kane glanced casually over his shoulder and saw an Arab in faded russet robes and red head-cloth, appear from behind a dune and urge his camel across the airstrip. He slid to the ground and stood by the plane.
Kane tapped Jordan on the shoulder. 'Pull up a minute, will you?'
Jordan halted the truck and they all turned and looked back. The Arab was examining the plane closely and then he looked up and gazed towards them.
Kane scrambled out of the truck. Til see what he wants. It may be just idle curiosity, but you never can tell with Bedouins.'
As he approached the plane, the Arab advanced to meet him, hand resting lightly on the silver hilt of his curved jambiya. Kane halted a few feet away from him and said in Arabic, 'What are you doing here? Are you looking for someone?'
The Arab's face was lined and drawn. The pupils of his eyes were like pinpricks and his lips were necked with foam. 'I have a letter for one named Kane,' he said in a dead voice.
Kane's hand slid round to the butt of the Colt as he spoke. 'I am he. Where is the letter?'
The Arab pulled the jambiya from its sheath and the blade flashed in the hot sunlight. Kane took a quick step back and tried to draw the Colt. The foresight snagged on the lining of his hip pocket and he cursed and ducked under the swinging blade, reaching for the Arab's throat.
For a moment they swayed, locked together, Kane trying to twist the weapon from the man's grasp, and then the Arab lifted his knee viciously.
Kane hung on grimly and they fell to the ground, rolling over and over. He could hardly breathe and yet everything assumed a sharper definition and he was acutely aware of the stink of the man's unwashed body, of the madness in the staring eyes.
In the distance, a woman screamed and he was conscious of something digging painfully into his right buttock. It was the Colt and he wrenched it free from his pocket, rammed the barrel into the Arab's stomach and pulled the trigger twice as thejambiya was raised to strike.
The force of the bullets, fired at such short range, lifted the man backwards. Kane tried to get up, but there was a roaring in his ears. Someone cried his name. He grabbed for the plane's wing, hauling himself erect, and another Arab came into his range of vision, running towards himjambiya raised above his head.
Kane tried to lift the Colt, but his arm seemed to have lost its strength and then Jordan arrived on the scene. The geologist dropped to one knee beside him, rested the barrel of his heavy revolver across his left forearm and fired so fast that four shots sounded like one continuous roll of thunder.
The Arab kept coming right into the line of fire, the bullets thudding solidly into his body and then, when he was almost upon them, he seemed to lurch sideways and fell on to his face.
For several moments there was complete silence and then Kane heard a cry behind him. He turned, still holding onto the wing for support and saw Marie running
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