I love those skies, thin blue or snowy gray,

gone. He looked quickly at Mallory, then away again. "Louki!" "Yes, yes, Major. The cave." Louki rubbed his chin again. "Well, it is a good way along. In fact, it is at the end," he finished uncomfortably. "The very end?" asked Mallory quietly. Louki nodded miserably, stared down at the ground at his feet. Even the ends of his moustache seemed to droop. "That's handy," Mallory said heavily. "Oh, that's very handy!" He sank down to the ground again. "Helps us no end, that does." He bowed his head in thought and didn't even lift it as Andrea poked a Bren round the angle of the rock, and fired a short downhill burst more in token of discouragement than in any hope of hitting anything. Another ten seconds passed, then Louki spoke again, his voice barely audible. "I am very, very sorry. This is a terrible thing. Before God, Major, I would not have done it but that I thought they were still far behind." "It's not your fault, Louki." Mallory was touched by the little man's obvious distress. He touched his ripped shoulder jacket. "I thought the same thing." "Please!" Stevens put his hand on Mallory's arm. "What's wrong? I don't understand." "Everybody else does, I'm afraid, Andy. It's very, very simple. We have half a mile to go along this valley hereand not a shred of cover. The Alpenkorps have less than two hundred yards to come up that ravine we've just left." He paused while Andrea fired another retaliatory short burst, then continued. "They'll do what they're doing nowkeep probing to see if we're still here. The minute they judge we're gone, they'll be up here in a flash. They'll nail us before we're halfway, quarter way to the caveyou know we can't travel fast. And they're carrying a couple of Spandausthey'll cut us to ribbons." "I see," Stevens murmured. "You put it all so nicely, sir." "Sorry, Andy, but that's how it is." "But could you not leave two men as a rearguard, while the rest" "And what happens to the rearguard?" Mallory interrupted dryly. "I see what you mean," he said in a low voice. "I hadn't thought of that." "No, but the rearguard would. Quite a problem, isn't it?" "There is no problem at all," Louki announced. "The Major is kind, but this is all my fault. I will" "You'll do damn all of accessory camera digital lens xxasdf the kind!" Miller said savagely. He tore Louki's Bren from his hand and laid it on the ground. "You heard what the boss saidit wasn't your fault." For a moment Louki stared at him in anger, then turned dejectedly away. He looked as if he were going to cry. Mallory, too, stared at the American, astonished at the sudden vehemence, so completely out of character. Now that he came to think of it, Dusty had been strangely taciturn and thoughtful during the past hour or soMallory couldn't recall his saying a word during all that time. But time enough to worry about that later on. . . . Casey Brown eased his injured leg, looking hopefully at Mallory. "Couldn't we stay here till it's darkreal darkthen make our way" "No good. The moon's almost full to-nightand not a cloud in the sky. They'd get us. Even more important, we have to get into the town between sunset and curfew to-night. Our last chance. Sorry, Casey, but it's no go." Fifteen seconds, half a minute passed, and passed in silence, then they all started abruptly as Andy Stevens spoke. "Louki was right, you know," he said pleasantly. The voice was weak, but filled with a calm certainty that jerked every eye towards him. He was propped up on one elbow, Louki's Bren cradled in his hands. It was a measure of their concentration on the problem on hand that no one had heard or seen him reach out for the machine-gun. "It's all very simple," Stevens went on quietly. "Just let's use our heads, that's all. . . . The gangrene's right up past the knee, isn't it, sir?" Mallory said nothing: he didn't know what to say, the complete unexpectedness had knocked him off balance. He was vaguely aware that Miller was looking at him, his eyes begging him to say "No." "Is it or isn't it?" There was patience, a curious understanding in the voice, and all of a sudden Mallory knew what to say. "Yes," he nodded. "It is." Miller was looking at him in horror. "Thank you, sir." Stevens was smiling in satisfaction. "Thank you very much indeed. There's no need to point out all the advantages of my staying here." There was an assurance in his voice no one had ever heard before. The unthinking authority of a man completely in charge of a situation. 'Tune I did something for my living anyway. No fond farewells, please. Just leave me a couple of boxes of ammo, two or three thirty-six grenades and away you go." "I'll be damned if we will!" Miller was on