Rock shards exploded high and to the right. So startled, so surprised, were the guerrillas that he got the lead man before he could duck back into cover. Silence descended again on the little valley. Nick studied the corpse. The man had fallen near the cliff entrance and lay unmoving. Even at the distance Nick could make out the rubber shoes, the dirty white trousers and ragged field jacket. The man wore heavy leather bandoleers crossed over his chest. A rifle lay near at hand. Nick breathed a little easier. They were guerrillas, all right. Bandits to the police and military. But it could have been the Korean police coming through that gap — he had taken a chance in firing before looking. A necessary chance. He couldn't let them get a foothold inside the valley. He sent a long spray of lead at the cliff entrance, sighting with the tracer now and hosing a murderous fire down the passage. He kept it up, in short bursts so the gun wouldn't heat, until he had exhausted the drum.
