He had just decided that they should eat and commit themselves at once when he saw the figures below: the first of the Goons who lay in wait across their front.

There was no mistaking them. Small and busy, they were shaking down for the new day; just visible on the far side of a medium height, near the top, about two hours’ march away and directly below. It appeared that they must have slept in low ground, and this bothered him by virtue of its obvious military ineptness. He searched at once for sentries or for another party, reaching out a hand to wake Ansell as he did so. Ansell said,

‘That’s cosy.’

‘Look for an advance party. There must be one. That lot are too casual.’

‘Right.’

They searched the terrain in silence, then Ansell suddenly gripped his arm.

‘Mac, there!’

The figures were coming up in single file, about half a mile to their right, close now to the top of the ridge. They counted until all had appeared.

‘Eleven.’

‘With a radio.’

‘Eleven’s too many.’

‘See which way they search.’

They waited as the climbing figures laboured upwards. Every now and then MacConnachie glanced down at the main party below, but there was no sign of a move by them. It was impossible to guess how many other Goons were hidden behind the height, but certainly there were some, perhaps a fair number, to judge by the way the visible members of the force kept talking and gesturing down to them.

Then the buzz of the helicopter came to them from somewhere away to their left, and MacConnachie said,

‘See what he’s doing.’

‘I’ll have to move.’

‘Watch your rear.’

As Ansell wriggled away, MacConnachie watched the advance party achieve the summit. The radio operator adjusted his aerial and reported back to the main force. Looking down, MacConnachie saw that his opposite number had appeared on top of the height below, evidently increasing his elevation to prevent any masking of signals. Once the report was complete, the entire advance party sat down, lit cigarettes, and chatted among themselves.

Ten minutes passed, and then the tiny figures on the height below suddenly straightened up, as at a word of command, and doubled down out of sight. MacConnachie waited to see in which direction, once the full force had emerged, the search would set out. Whichever way they moved, the advance party also would move, along the top of the ridge where he and Ansell lay.

Ansell rejoined him.

‘The chopper’s searching the front face of the ridge, well away to our left. The River Boys are about two thirds of the way up the scarp. There are dozens more of them now.’

‘There would be.’

‘I estimate two hundred. They’re coming fast, in sections. I think they’re going to fan out.’

‘You can count on it.’

Ansell looked past him at the advance party.

‘Nip along and see if they’ve got a couple of fags to spare, Mac. You’re better at that sort of thing than I am.’