tried to pin his man, but the gunman kicked out, sending Joe flying. After a bone-jarring landing, Joe struggled to rise. He turned to see that the guard was scrambling for his fallen AK-47. With a desperate lunge, Joe caught the man's foot, and Clea darted in to snatch up the weapon.
The man now tried to kick loose and grab for Clea, but Andreas jumped in, kicking him hard as he could in the stomach. The guy sagged to the ground, while Joe took the AK-47 from Clea and covered him.
"Where is Mr. Prynne?" Clea asked, "and that other man?"
"I was hoping someone would ask," came Prynne's voice from alongside the road. They peered into the ditch. There lay the gunman. On top of him sat Prynne, holding a gun.
"Way to go, Mr. Prynne!" Joe exclaimed, as Phil came running up.
"How are you all doing up there?" Phil wanted to know.
"Everything's under control," Joe replied. Prynne looked up at the students, and they suddenly noticed that he was pale and sweaty. "My leg," Prynne said. "I think I've torn a ligament in my ankle. That means I won't be doing any long-distance walking for some time. Could someone give me a hand?"
Joe helped Prynne over to the Mercedes, while the others took the guards to join their fellow captives. Then, taking the radio and the captured guns, they piled into the liberated car and resumed their northward journey with Joe at the wheel.
Prynne watched the barren countryside roll by for a while and then spoke up. "What worries me now is that whoever set up that ambush is likely to take another shot at us. I wish we could get off this main route."
From the back seat, Clea spoke up. "There is an old road leading directly to the ruined fort."
"Our rendezvous is an abandoned shepherd's hut, right on the border," Prynne said. "Do you know it?"
"I don't know the cabin," admitted Clea. "But it should not be hard to find."
Prynne sighed. "I had hoped to make that hike myself, but under the circumstances Joe will have to undertake it, if he's willing."
"It'll be a pleasure," Joe said with a grin. "Clean mountain air, beautiful scenery—and I've never seen Yugoslavia. I wouldn't miss it."
"And I will go with you," announced Clea.
Before Joe could protest, Prynne nodded. "You'll need a guide," he said. "But there is the possibility of a great risk."
"Don't worry, Mr. Prynne," Joe answered, "I'll look after her."
Clea smiled. "We will look after each other."
The road began to climb until at the crest of a hill they saw the fort. Some of its walls were crumbling, but one tower stood intact, rising about twenty-five feet. The only way to the top of the tower was a narrow set of steps. It was an easily defended stronghold.
With Andreas and Clea helping Prynne, they brought their gear up the stairs. Joe and Clea began preparing backpacks for their hike.
Phil, who was standing lookout, seemed troubled. "How will anyone coming to reinforce us know where we are? That turnoff we took — there's no way we would have found it without Clea's help."
"Ah!" Andreas exclaimed. "I can go back to the place where the road meets and show them."
"What do you mean, 'go back'? You might drive right into the enemy," said Joe.
"Not drive — run!" Andreas said. "I can do that distance in less than one hour."
"And when we raise Salonika on the radio, we can advise any relief force to look for him," Phil added.
"It sounds like our best choice," Prynne mused. "Phil and I will hold down the fort here, while Joe and Clea are — " He stopped abruptly and held up a hand for silence. "We have company."
Phil darted to the wall nearest the road. He called back over his shoulder, "Two cars — ten or more guys with guns getting out of them."
Joe joined Phil. They watched as the group of men fanned out and began to search the area. Prynne positioned himself near the top of the stairs. Shortly afterward a couple of heads peered up at him. Prynne fired two rounds, and the heads vanished.
"Joe!" called Prynne. "How are they armed?
The man now tried to kick loose and grab for Clea, but Andreas jumped in, kicking him hard as he could in the stomach. The guy sagged to the ground, while Joe took the AK-47 from Clea and covered him.
"Where is Mr. Prynne?" Clea asked, "and that other man?"
"I was hoping someone would ask," came Prynne's voice from alongside the road. They peered into the ditch. There lay the gunman. On top of him sat Prynne, holding a gun.
"Way to go, Mr. Prynne!" Joe exclaimed, as Phil came running up.
"How are you all doing up there?" Phil wanted to know.
"Everything's under control," Joe replied. Prynne looked up at the students, and they suddenly noticed that he was pale and sweaty. "My leg," Prynne said. "I think I've torn a ligament in my ankle. That means I won't be doing any long-distance walking for some time. Could someone give me a hand?"
Joe helped Prynne over to the Mercedes, while the others took the guards to join their fellow captives. Then, taking the radio and the captured guns, they piled into the liberated car and resumed their northward journey with Joe at the wheel.
Prynne watched the barren countryside roll by for a while and then spoke up. "What worries me now is that whoever set up that ambush is likely to take another shot at us. I wish we could get off this main route."
From the back seat, Clea spoke up. "There is an old road leading directly to the ruined fort."
"Our rendezvous is an abandoned shepherd's hut, right on the border," Prynne said. "Do you know it?"
"I don't know the cabin," admitted Clea. "But it should not be hard to find."
Prynne sighed. "I had hoped to make that hike myself, but under the circumstances Joe will have to undertake it, if he's willing."
"It'll be a pleasure," Joe said with a grin. "Clean mountain air, beautiful scenery—and I've never seen Yugoslavia. I wouldn't miss it."
"And I will go with you," announced Clea.
Before Joe could protest, Prynne nodded. "You'll need a guide," he said. "But there is the possibility of a great risk."
"Don't worry, Mr. Prynne," Joe answered, "I'll look after her."
Clea smiled. "We will look after each other."
The road began to climb until at the crest of a hill they saw the fort. Some of its walls were crumbling, but one tower stood intact, rising about twenty-five feet. The only way to the top of the tower was a narrow set of steps. It was an easily defended stronghold.
With Andreas and Clea helping Prynne, they brought their gear up the stairs. Joe and Clea began preparing backpacks for their hike.
Phil, who was standing lookout, seemed troubled. "How will anyone coming to reinforce us know where we are? That turnoff we took — there's no way we would have found it without Clea's help."
"Ah!" Andreas exclaimed. "I can go back to the place where the road meets and show them."
"What do you mean, 'go back'? You might drive right into the enemy," said Joe.
"Not drive — run!" Andreas said. "I can do that distance in less than one hour."
"And when we raise Salonika on the radio, we can advise any relief force to look for him," Phil added.
"It sounds like our best choice," Prynne mused. "Phil and I will hold down the fort here, while Joe and Clea are — " He stopped abruptly and held up a hand for silence. "We have company."
Phil darted to the wall nearest the road. He called back over his shoulder, "Two cars — ten or more guys with guns getting out of them."
Joe joined Phil. They watched as the group of men fanned out and began to search the area. Prynne positioned himself near the top of the stairs. Shortly afterward a couple of heads peered up at him. Prynne fired two rounds, and the heads vanished.
"Joe!" called Prynne. "How are they armed?
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