Cunningham spun the wheel in a reflex action that took them out of harm’s way as the plane turned completely round and started to move out into the desert again, the engine note deepening as Romero prepared to take off.
And then the entire aircraft seemed to shake from side to side and slewed violently to the left. A moment later, it lurched forward on to its nose and ploughed into the sand for about a hundred yards before coming to rest in a mass of twisted metal, orange tongues of flame leaping upwards into the night.
There was an explosion, followed by another, as the tanks went up. Cunningham turned the wheel quickly, turning away as fingers of flame reached out to touch them and pieces of twisted metal hummed through the air.
The other truck was moving fast towards the gorge and they gave chase, bounding over the ground like some living thing. Kane stood with one foot on the running board, his eyes never leaving the tail-light of the other vehicle, sub-machine gun ready.
As they passed into the gorge, the truck bounced high into the air as it lifted over a slight rise in the ground, and he was swung violently sideways. The sub-machine gun went flying into the night, as he crashed into the soft sand and rolled over and over.
As the truck braked to a halt thirty or forty yards away, it came under heavy fire, and Kane saw several Bedouins appear from behind the jumbled boulders which, at this point, fringed the bottom of the cliffs.
He could hear the bullets thudding into the body of the truck and he scrambled to his feet and cried, ‘Get to hell out of here, Cunningham! Get the women!’
The truck moved away at once and Kane crouched low, searching desperately for his sub-machine gun. He saw it lying in a patch of moonlight and ran forward to retrieve it. There was a complete silence for a moment or two and then a stone rattled. He fired into the night. He threw himself behind a boulder as several shots replied, whining through the air above his head and ricocheting from the cliffs. As they finished, he slipped behind the boulder and, keeping to the shadows, ran along the valley.
Behind him, they still fired blindly, but for the moment, he was alone. He ran along the great avenue which led to the temple, crossed in front of it and continued towards the oasis.
When he reached the rim of the hollow, he paused and looked down into the encampment. Cunningham had halted the truck some twenty or thirty yards away from the tents and he and Jamal were sheltering behind it.
Several Bedouins were moving higher up the slope on their right with the obvious intent of being able to shoot down on them. As Kane was about to shout a warning, Cunningham looked up and saw the danger. He tapped Jamal on the shoulder and they turned and scrambled up the slope towards the cave where the arms were, keeping in the shadows.
For the moment, they had not been seen and Skiros was not aware of their departure. There was a short period of silence and Kane started to work his way diagonally up the slope.
He paused behind a boulder and looked up. As Cunningham and the Somali reached the ledge, several Yemenis breasted the slope, cutting them off. Cunningham fired a long burst to keep their heads down, and he and Jamal turned and ran for the shelter of the other cave. Kane slipped from behind the boulder and scrambled up the slope to join them, praying the shadows would hide him.
From the valley below he heard a cry of anger from Selim, and immediately afterwards, heavy firing commenced. He was gasping for breath and he hugged the sub-machine gun tightly to his chest with one hand and clawed at the loose soil with the other. He could hear the roars of men behind him as they started to follow and then there was a long, continuous roll of thunder above his head. He looked up to see Cunningham crouched on the ledge, sub-machine gun to his shoulder.