Said Little John, That may not be;

say 'all gone'?" he asked softly. "Yes. II'm sure they're . . ." He broke off abruptly as Mallory's eyes shifted to a point behind his shoulder. "Then who the hell is that?" Mallory demanded savagely. The sentry would have been less than human not to fall for it. Even as he was swinging round to look, the vicious judo cut took him just below the ear. Mallory had smashed open the glass of the keyboard before the unfortunate guard bad bit the floor, swept all the keysabout a dozen in alloff their rings and into his pocket. It took them another twenty seconds to tape the man's mouth and hands and lock him in a convenient cupboard; then they were on their way again, still running. One more obstacle to overcome, Mallory thought as they pounded along in the darkness, the last of the triple defences. He did not know how many men would be guarding the locked door to the magazine, and in that moment of fierce exaltation he didn't particularly care. Neither, he felt sure, did Miller. There were no worries now, no taut-nerved tensions or nameless anxieties. Mallory would have been the last man in the world to admit it, or even believe it, but this was what men like Miller and himself had been born for. They had their hand-torches out now, the powerful beams swinging in the wild arcs as they plunged along, skirting the massed batteries of A.A. guns. To anyone observing their approach from the front, there could have been nothing more calculated to disarm suspicion than the sight and sound of the two men running towards them without any attempt at concealment, one of them shouting to the other in German, both with lit torches whose beams lifted and fell, lifted and fell as the men's arms windmilled by their sides. But these same torches were deeply hooded, and only a very alert observer indeed would have noticed that the downward arc of the lights never passed backwards beyond the runners' feet. Suddenly Mallory saw two shadows detaching themselves from the darker shadow of the magazine entrance, steadied his torch for a brief second to check. He slackened speed. "Right!" he said softly. "Here they comeonly two of them. One eachget as close as possible first. Quick and quieta shout, a shot, and we're finished. And for God's sake don't start clubbing 'em with your torch. There'll be no lights on in that magazine and I'm not going to start crawling around there with a box of bloody matches in my hand!" He transferred his torch to his left hand, pulled out his 318 buy camera digital hp photosmart Navy Colt, reversed it, caught it by the barrel, brought up sharply only inches away from the guards now running to meet them. "Are you all right?" Mallory gasped. "Anyone been here? Quickly, man, quickly!" "Yes, yes, we're all right." The man was off guard, apprehensive. "What in the name of God is all that noise" "Those damned English saboteurs!" Mallory swore viciously. "They've killed the guards and they're inside! Are you sure no one's been here? Come, let me see." He pushed his way past the guard, probed his torch at the massive padlock, then straightened his back. "Thank heaven for that anyway!" He turned round, let the dazzling beam of his torch catch the man square in the eyes, muttered an apology and switched off the light, the sound of the sharp click lost in the hollow, soggy thud of the heel of his Colt catching the man behind the ear, just below the helmet. The sentry was still on his feet, just beginning to crumple, when Mallory staggered as the second guard reeled into him, staggered, recovered, clouted him with the Colt for good measure, then stiffened in sudden dismay as he heard the vicious, hissing plop of Miller's automatic, twice in rapid succession. "What the hell" "Wily birds, boss," Miller murmured. "Very wily indeed, There was a third character in the shadows at the side. Only way to stop him." Automatic cocked in his ready hand, he stooped over the man for a moment, then straightened. "Afraid he's been stopped kinda permanent, boss." There was no expression in his voice. "Tie up the others." Mallory had only half-heard him; he was already busy at the magazine door, trying a succession of keys in the lock. The third key fitted, the lock opened and the heavy steel door gave easily to his touch. He took a last swift look round, but there was no one in sight, no sound but the revving, engine of the last of the trucks clearing the fortress gates, the distant rattle of machine-gun fire. Andrea was doing a magnificent jobif only he didn't overdo it, leave his withdrawal till it was too late. . . . Mallory turned quickly, switched on his torch, stepped inside the door. Miller would follow when he was ready. A vertical steel ladder fixed to the rock led down to the floor of the cave. On either side of the ladder were hollow lift-shafts, unprotected even by a cage, oiled wire ropes glistening in the middle, a polished metal runner at