Several Neravistas were running across the open ground from the far perimeter in a flanking attack. Stratton brought his gun up to his shoulder but most of the attackers were cut down by firing from the defensive position on the other side of the stables.
‘Stratton!’ David called out from the other defensive position.
Stratton raised his head enough to see him.
‘They’ve taken the cabins!’ David shouted.
Stratton looked quickly for Louisa again and considered making a run for it down the slope. He looked over at David and the others. They needed to get away before their position was overrun. This was now about their escape as well as Louisa’s. Maybe there was a way of combining the two, Stratton thought.
A group of horsemen in the far distance beyond the tented camp caught his eye. They could only be Neravistas and they seemed to be heading around the inside of the perimeter. If they continued on that route they would move around the outside of the smoulder - ing shanty-town encampment, down a finger of jungle and eventually to the cliff before heading up to the stables. If they stuck close to the cliff edge they might find Louisa.
Stratton looked again towards the cliff, this time trying to spot the rope bundles. He thought he saw movement by one of them. It had to be Louisa. It would take a while to lower enough rope to reach the bottom in order to climb down, time that she might not have.
Stratton had seen enough. He needed to get down there as soon as possible.
The machine gun on the far side of the stables opened up with a sustained burst of fire. They were under attack again.
A mortar shell exploded on the other side of the corral. The two M60s at David’s position started firing towards the cabins.
An explosion at the furthest defensive machine-gun position silenced the gun. Single shots followed and Stratton knew they signalled an attack at that location.
He hurried to the stables, holding his rifle ready to fire. A Neravista appeared in the open field and Stratton dropped him with a single shot. Smoke rose from the sandbags of the furthest M60 position and the two rebels who had manned it lay dead across their defences.
A bullet struck the side of the stables and Stratton fired as he moved, killing two Neravistas coming across the open ground from the perimeter. He jumped behind the M60 and tried to get it firing again but it had been critically damaged.
More bullets whined around Stratton. He took up his rifle and shot one charging Neravista after another. Aware that he was running out of ammunition, he pulled another magazine from his pouch as he fired. When the clunk that signalled he was out of bullets came he deftly pressed the catch that released the magazine and pushed in a new one.
Sudden screams came from off to one side and he looked to see two Neravistas charging towards him, their bayonets pointing right at him.
Stratton fired, hitting one, but then his weapon jammed. As he stepped back to parry the inevitable bayonet thrust arrows flew into the attacker’s neck and side and he dropped onto the sandbags, writhing in agony. A volley of rifle fire aimed at the Neravistas’ flanking attack broke it and drove them back.
Victor, the Indians and a dozen rebels were tearing across the open ground towards Stratton. They reached the building and quickly deployed to defensive positions.
The Frenchman was out of breath but he managed a grin as he huddled down at the side of the building. ‘Now I get to save your ass,’ he said, clearly pleased with himself.
‘What are you doing here?’ Stratton asked as he cleared his jammed weapon.
‘I couldn’t leave you here alone.’
Stratton stared at Victor, unsure of his sincerity.
Victor shrugged. ‘Plus hundreds more Neravistas moved in to cover the perimeter. I don’t think they want anyone to get out of here alive.’
‘Don’t get too settled. You have more running to do . . . David!’ Stratton called out, heading to the other side of the building.
A mortar shell landed close by and everyone hit the dirt as shrapnel splattered around. One of the rebels dropped to the ground, holding his face as blood flowed through his fingers. Someone went to help him.
‘They’re preparing to attack!’ David shouted back.
Machine-gun fire came up the slope, raking the defensive position. Stratton hurried, crouching, to the corner to take a look for himself.