The Chinese commander warily approached the prone body on the rocks and turned it with his boot. Strange that a man could approach death with such a look of serenity on his face. His final thought before the world exploded was that it was what made these people so dangerous.
XLIX
JAMIE WATCHED THE smoke billow from the narrow passage in the hillside and he understood exactly what it meant. Tenzin’s fate had never been in doubt from the moment he had sent them away with Chiru. Still, he felt overwhelmed by a terrible sense of loss. But there was no time to mourn. The Tibetan may have managed to delay their pursuers, but they were still stuck like flies on a wall eight hundred feet up a sheer cliff. Somehow he had to find a way to get Sarah down. He signed to Chiru that they would need to work together and was relieved when the Tibetan boy seemed to understand.
Chiru had been squatting nervelessly on the very brink of the ledge with his rifle across his knees. Now the Tibetan stood up and signalled to Jamie to get Sarah to her feet. His face wore an untroubled smile that promised, whatever the perils they faced, he would somehow get them to safety. Jamie smiled back and Chiru’s calm seemed to reach out to him. In slow motion, he saw the moment the boy’s eyes changed shape. Heard the butcher’s block smack of the bullet hitting flesh. His mind screamed denial as Chiru was catapulted backwards off the ledge and into the void. Unthinkingly he crawled to the edge and watched the boy’s body tumble end over end in a fall that seemed to go on for ever. Blind panic froze him in position before some deep buried instinct saved him. He rolled sideways and squirmed backwards just as the sniper fired his second shot and the bullet screamed off the rock where he’d lain only a split second before. His hands scrambled for the rifle and he used his body to cover Sarah’s as he frantically scanned the clifftop above. Nothing. It took him a few seconds before he realized that the shape of the cliff concealed the inner part of the ledge from the marksman. They were safe, for the moment, but he knew it couldn’t last. Sooner or later the shooter would find a vantage point that would give him the angle for a clear shot. When that happened they were finished. Carefully, he crept to the end of the ledge where Chiru’s ‘path’ led diagonally down the cliff face. He identified a few possible hand- and footholds in the first twenty or thirty feet, but even alone he would quickly run out of options. Then it would be a matter of whether his strength ran out or he died of exposure. In any case, he couldn’t leave Sarah. The end result would be the same, but better to stay together. Maybe the Chinese would send someone down to rescue them? He laughed bitterly at his own innocence. The commandos were on a seek-and-destroy mission. They wouldn’t rest until everyone who had been with Tenzin was dead. The Tibetan’s face swam into his head and he found strength in the solemn features and the gentle, mesmeric voice. Only you can ensure that the Sun Stone never falls into the hands of those whose greed or ambition or foolishness will destroy us all. Well, the world would have to look after itself. He still had the rifle and he checked the action to make sure it hadn’t been damaged during the slide. If . . . No. Not that. Not yet. He put his arm around Sarah’s body and she snuggled into his shoulder for warmth. A cloud of exhaustion blanketed his brain and he closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of her body. There were worse ways to go.
His wandering mind conjured up a scene from Apocalypse Now. The opening scene where Captain Willard is lying drunk in his Saigon hotel room and the sound of the ceiling fan morphs into the mesmeric ‘whump, whump, whump’ of helicopter blades and heralds him back to a reality he doesn’t wish to be part of.
It was only when Jamie opened his eyes that he realized the sound was real and growing louder with every passing second. He grabbed the assault rifle and pushed Sarah down low, but even as he reacted a gigantic mechanical monster rose up before him with an almighty clattering and he was engulfed in its hot breath, the draught from the helicopter’s blades threatening to buffet him from the ledge. Through a Plexiglas shield men in flying helmets studied him like a trapped insect from behind mirrored visors. He found himself staring into the mouths of four lethal-looking rocket pods and a pair of remotely operated machine guns moved remorselessly to fix him with their little black eyes. He laid down the rifle and did his best to shield Sarah’s body, knowing just how pointless it was. His final thought was that somebody had gone to a hell of a lot of trouble to kill them.
‘If it was up to me I would throw you in prison and leave you there.’ The Indian Army major’s manner was polite but chilly, but then Jamie could hardly blame him. When the air force Mil-35 began its training flight out of Joshimath, the last thing the pilots were looking for was a confrontation with élite Chinese special forces which had all the signs of developing into a full-blown international incident. ‘Not only did you put yourselves at risk, but our airmen, and, if we are to believe you, the poor deluded Tibetan peasants who were bringing you back to India. Your partner, Miss Grant, was fortunate to survive her altitude sickness, but I am happy to say she has a remarkable constitution and will be released from hospital later today.’ He picked up a piece of paper from the metal desk. ‘Our prosecutors have formulated a list of charges against you that makes very grave reading indeed, Mr Saintclair, but, for reasons I find somewhat disconcerting, my superiors have ordered me to offer an alternative solution. This is a statement of your activities in Chamoli region which I will require you to sign. You will note that there is no mention of Chinese commandos, parachute drops or gun battles. No explosions and no dead bodies. Mr James Saintclair and Miss Sarah Grant unadvisedly decided to leave their guided walk to the Valley of the Flowers and strayed into Tibetan territory, where they ran into difficulties and had to be rescued by the Indian authorities, to whom they are extremely grateful.’ He offered Jamie a ballpoint pen from the breast pocket of his olive-green shirt.