The Savage Gorge (27 page)

'It's owned,' he explained, 'by an obscure com
pany with a strange name.' He looked at Paula.
'Excuse my Latin, which will make you wince.
Name of company is Veni, Vidi, Vici . . .'

'You pronounced that very well,' said Paula, who
had been good at Latin at school.

'What does it mean?' Tweed asked.

'It's the opening sentence of Julius Caesar's
Gallic
Wars,'
she told him. Translated it means "I came.
I saw. I conquered.'"

'Known for short as the VW Corp,' Marler added.

'Sounds like a good motto for our Mr Neville
Guile,' Tweed commented.

'While you lot have been chattering,' Ben said in his fiercest growl, 'y
ou might look at what's coming for us
to starboard. Marler, like me to take over from you?
Had a long stint.'

'It's OK, Ben,' Marler assured him. 'I'll take her
into the cove.'

Secretly, Ben was relieved. Marler was the younger
man. He had great strength in his arms and a quick
reflex in turning the wheel. Knowing what was
coming, Ben was doubly thankful as he joined Tweed
and Paula, their hands gripping the handrail.

'The Devil comes in after the quiet stretch of water we've just crossed,' he said quietly.

Paula was staring, fixated, to the west. She had
never seen anything like it. About half a mile wide, the
immense wave appeared to be moving slowly, but this
was an illusion. Already higher than the top of the
ship's funnel, it was sucking up smaller waves, swelling
itself to even greater size as it rolled closer and closer.
Paula became aware Marler was turning their ship through a hundred and eighty degrees.

He was going to try and ride the crest of this giant.
Could he possibly make it? It would be a miracle if he
managed it. She turned to Tweed.

'How much further to Seaward Cove?'

'Not much,' he replied cheerfully. 'You can see the
red light perched above the prawn workshop.'

She looked ahead, clenched her fists inside her
pockets. The red light which came on at intervals for
five minutes was no more than a distant pinpoint. The

foredeck of the ship was climbing now. The deadly
self-inflating wave had reached them. She tensed for
the steep drop deep down into the ocean which would
precede its mounting of the side beyond. She had a
premonition that once the
Tiger
started descending it
would continue plunging until the forepart was
smashed to pulp as the entire vessel settled deep down
in its watery grave.

'Marler is a master seaman,' Tweed said casually.

'What?'

'He is riding the crest of that giant wave, has
reduced speed to coincide with it. It's carrying us home.'

Paula looked again at the red light above Seaward
Cove. The light above the prawn workshop was much
larger. They were so close now to the coast. Her only
doubt was what would happen when the wave reached
the narrow harbour. Ben, watching her, must have
sensed her anxiety.

'We are now entering one of those strange lakes of
calm we saw earlier. The wave is vanishing.'

'It is?' she called back, trying to sound confident.

Then, peering out of a window across the foredeck,
she saw -
felt - Tiger
descending gently but steadily.
The wave was subsiding. Soon its surface was on a
level with the harbour wall.

She climbed down the steps into the stateroom.
Officially, if asked, she was clearing up the state
room. The truth was she had had enough. She
didn't want to watch them passing through the

snake-like entrance, evading the brutal spars of rock
by two feet or less. The ship stopped suddenly and
she knew they were mooring to the jetty. She ran up
the steps.

Harry, onshore, had just completed tying the rope
to the stern bollard. She joined Tweed and the others
on the jetty. The weird and sombre light of dawn was
illuminating the summit of the eastern ridge. Ben,
standing close to his house, cupped both hands and
bellowed.

'
I’ll be gettin' breakfast. A large omelette and crispy
bacon.'

'A two-egg omelette for me,' Harry bellowed back.

'So now we can have a quiet day,' Paula mused
aloud.

'I wouldn't count on that,' Tweed warned. 'No,
I wouldn't. . .'

TWENTY

They had finished a large well-cooked breakfast,
seated round an oblong table with a well-scrubbed
surface covered with a thick white cloth. All was peace
and quiet.

It was daylight, another brilliant day. The sun shone
on the calm sea, creating sparkling reflections like a
spread of diamonds. Only Tweed sat very still looking
serious. Ben spoke to him.

'You'll have to drive back along the same road you
came in on. There's another track to the west I drive
over on my Land Rover for food and supplies. No
use to you - it ends at a large village. So you have to
use the way you came in on, no matter where you're
heading for.'

'London, straight to Finden Square,' Tweed said
grimly.

Paula stared at him. By the tone of his voice she
knew they had reached their first climax. It was a development she had seen before. Tweed had turned aggressive, in an attacking mood. The initiative had
passed into his hands.

'The point I'm making,' Ben growled, 'was you
drive back at a slow pace until you've passed the turn-
off to that airfield. It is essential.'

'Why?' demanded Marler.

'If you listen you'll know why,' Ben growled again. 'My side of that high ridge to the east of here is solid,
has stood like that since Stonehenge. The other side of
the ridge is unstable. It's shale and one day immense
tons will sweep down the ridge as a minor avalanche.
Probably only stop when it's heaped up across the
road or the barren fields beyond. Police put up warning signs but some crazy kids pulled the signs down
then dumped them into the sea. In any case, that road
only leads to a deserted beach unless you turn off to come to me.'

'Sounds a potential hazard,' Tweed commented.

'Not if you
crawl,
'
warned Ben, 'until the airfield
turn-off. Funny thing is, the fifty yards of ground at
the top of the summit is hard immovable rock. But
you
crawl^
he repeated.

'Heard you the first time, Ben,' Marler said off
handedly.

'And I heard you coming in that Maserati,' Ben
snapped.

They all stood up, gathered round Ben, thanked

him for all his help. Tweed put a hand on his shoul
der.

'Sorry it was such a murderous nerve-racking trip.
We are all so grateful.'

'Get off! The sea has its moods and I knows 'em.'

They travelled as they had come. Paula jumped into
the passenger seat of the Maserati as Marler slipped in
behind the wheel. Harry sat alongside Tweed, who took the wheel of the Audi, his mobile in one hand.
They took off along the same road, which rounded the
end of the ridge for a short distance with the sea close
to their right, then descended for minutes onto the road below the ridge Ben had warned them about. Paula found an irresistible urge to look up to the
summit. She was relieved that Marler was holding his
speed to 25 m.p.h. or less. Then she stared, used her
binoculars.

'There's someone on the hard rock at the top,
looked like one of these North Africans. Dark face,
cloth wrapped round his forehead . . .'

She heard a distant cracking sound, then another
further along. At that moment the mobile buzzed.
Marler snatched it up. He listened for a moment. His
reply bothered Paula.

'OK, Harry. Thought so. I'm ramming my foot
down. Could be a close-run thing for us
...

'Neville Guile's gangsters are on the hard rock up
there. They're throwing grenades to start the shale

moving. It is. They're going to crush us before we
reach safety!'

As he spoke he pressed his foot hard on the accel
erator. They were racing as though at Le Mans.
Glancing in the rear-view mirror Paula saw Tweed
was only yards behind them, moving at the same
manic speed. They swung round narrow bends, recov
ered, sped on.

Horrified, she gazed at the mountainous slope of
the ridge. The whole surface was on the move. The
shale had gathered into incredibly fast-moving waves,
riding higher and higher as it thundered down the
slope, sending down a thunderous roar, now over six
feet high along the whole unstable slope. She gazed
ahead and the turn-off to the airfield seemed miles
ahead. They weren't going to make it. They'd end up
buried in the pulverized metal of their vehicles.

She glanced at Marler. His expression was calm,
concentrated. Ahead was a long straight stretch of
road. Marler pressed his foot down hard. They were
travelling at well over ninety miles an hour. She
checked the rear-view mirror. The Audi was hurtling
forward at the same speed. She forced herself to look
at the rapidly advancing wall. It seemed almost on top
of them, a mixture of large rocks 'cemented' together
with the bloody shale. And still the turn-off to the air
field, to safety, seemed miles away. Paula had never
been so frightened but she compelled herself to con
ceal her fear as the thunder of the landslide became
almost deafening.