Where Eagles Dare

Fifteen feet back from the edge of the cliff they cleared away the snow and hammered an angled piton securely into the bare rock. Smith made a double bowline at one end of the nylon, slipped his legs through the loops, unclasped his belt then fastened it tightly round both himself and the rope and slipped a walkie-talkie over his shoulder. The rope was then passed round the piton and three men, backs to the cliff, wrapped it round their hands and prepared to take the weight. Schaffer stood by with the other walkie-talkie.

Smith checked that there were no sharp or abrasive edges on the cliff-top, wriggled cautiously over and gave the signal to be lowered. The descent itself was simple. As Thomas had said, it was a vertical drop and all he had to do was to fend himself off from the face as the men above paid out the rope. Once only, passing an overhang, he spun wildly in space, but within ten seconds regained contact with the rock face again. Mountaineering made easy, Smith thought. Or it seemed easy : perhaps, he thought wryly, it was as well that he couldn't see what stretched beneath him.

His feet passed through eighteen inches of snow and rested on solid ground. He flashed his torch in a semi-circle, from cliff wall to cliff wall. If it was a ledge, it was a very big one for, as far as his eye and torch could reach, it appeared to be a smooth plateau sloping gently outwards from the cliff!. The cliff wall itself was smooth, unbroken, except for one shallow fissure, a few feet wide, close by to where he stood. He climbed out of the double bowline and made the switch on the walkie-talkie.

'O.K. so far. Haul up the rope. Supplies first, then yourselves.'

The rope snaked upwards into the darkness. Within five minutes all the equipment had been lowered in two separate loads. Christiansen appeared soon afterwards.

'What's all the fuss about this Alpine stuff, then?' he asked cheerfully. "My grandmother could do it.'

'Maybe we should have brought your grandmother along instead,' Smith said sourly. 'We're not down yet. Take your torch and find out how big this ledge is and the best way down and for God's sake don't go falling over any precipices.'

'And how am I supposed to get down? Hand over hand for two hundred feet? Frozen hand over frozen hand for two hundred feet on a rope this size? You'd better stand clear. Somebody should have thought of this.'

'Somebody did,' Smith said patiently. 'Make sure the rope is still round the piton then kick the other eight hundred feet over the edge.'

"There's always an answer.' Schaffer sounded relieved.

They had just lowered him to the ground when Christiansen returned. i

'It's not so bad,' he reported. There's another cliff ahead of us, maybe fifty yards away, curving around to the east. At least I think it's a cliff. I didn't try to find out how deep or how steep. I'm married. But the plateau falls away gently to the west there. Seems it might go on a fair way. Trees, too. I followed the line of them for two hundred yards.'

Trees?. At this altitude?'

'Well, no masts for a tall ship. Scrub pine. They'll give shelter, hiding.'

'Fair enough,' Smith nodded. 'We'll bivouac there.'

'So close?' The surprised tone in Schaffer's voice showed that he didn't think much of the idea. 'Shouldn't we get as far down this mountain as possible tonight, Major?'

'I agree with Schaffer,' Carraciola said reasonably. 'Let's get as much as we can behind us. What do you think, Olaf ?' This to Christiansen.

'It doesn't matter what Christiansen thinks.' Smith's voice was quiet but cold as the mountain air itself. 'Nor you, Carraciola. This isn't a round-table seminar, it's a military operation. Military operations have leaders. Like it or not, Admiral Holland put me in charge. We stay here tonight. Get the stuff across.'

The five men looked speculatively at one another, then stooped to lift the supplies. There was no longer any question as to who was in charge.

'We pitch the tents right away, boss?' Schaffer asked.

'Yes.' In Schaffer's book, Smith reflected, 'boss' was probably a higher mark of respect than either 'Major' or 'sir'. "Then hot food, hot coffee and a try forLondon on the radio.

Haul that rope down, Christiansen. Come the dawn, we don't want to start giving heart attacks to any binocular-. toting characters in the Schloss Adler.'

Christiansen nodded, began to haul on the rope. As the free end rose into the air, Smith gave a shout, jumped towards Christiansen and caught his arm. Christiansen, startled, stopped pulling and looked round.

'Jesus!' Smith drew the back of his hand across his forehead. That was a dose one.'

'What's up?' Shaffer asked quickly.

'Two of you. Hoist me up. Quickly! Before that damn rope disappears.'

'Now that you've quite finished---' Torrance-Smythe said politely.

"The radio.' Smith let out a long sigh of relief. "There's only one list of frequencies, call signs and code. Security. And that one list is inside Sergeant Hatred's tunic.'

'Mind if I mop my brow, too, boss?' Schaffer enquired.