He sat there for a long while as the sounds of the party died down and the night became wonderfully quiet. At last he began to feel drowsy.

He yawned and stood up, and as he did so he heard voices and the sound of men moving through the woods.

He crouched low and carefully made his way back towards the cave. It was probably just a patrol sent out by the bandits – but it was best to be sure.

As he neared the cave entrance he looked up and saw three men in purple uniforms creeping along the rocks.

James’s heart started thumping against his chest.

Ugo had come after all.

25

25

Tommy Gun

James forgot about trying to be quiet, broke cover, and ran full pelt into the cave, shouting as loudly as he could. ‘Look out! Wake up! Attenzione! Wake up!’

The slumbering men stirred drunkenly and blinked at him.

It was like a nightmare. James couldn’t make them understand what was happening. He didn’t have the language.

‘Ugo!’ James screamed. ‘Ugo is here!’

One or two of the bandits, those who had drunk less, reached drowsily for their guns; others turned over and went back to sleep, grumbling, but in an instant James’s message became clear.

There was a terrific bang and a flash. A flare had been dropped through the roof and it lit the cave with a lurid yellow light. James heard shouts, then gunfire, and threw himself to the ground as bullets spat into the earth around him.

A group of men in uniform ran down the steps at the back of the cave, firing wildly in all directions. Some of the villagers were cut down in the confusion, some never even made it up off their beds, but a few managed to take cover and were fighting back, so that soon the air was alive with bullets. James heard them crack and fizz as they tore past him.

In the confined space of the cave, the noise was appalling. The bangs of the guns so loud they stunned him, and with each shot the air was compressed so that it punched him like a physical blow. He felt as if he were trapped inside a steel drum with someone hammering on the lid.

He crawled quickly into the shelter of one of the ruined huts, a bullet smacking into the wall just above his head and showering him with dust and shards of rock. More bullets ricocheted off the hard stones and sang away into the dirt.