Nangolat was thrown into the midst of his warriors, while his rifle, its stock shattered, flailed into the ranks and knocked two warriors down. And then Nangolat went berserk. He snatched a spear from one of his men, turned, and ran toward the defenders, screaming. A priest barked an order and two warriors dashed forward, caught Nangolat, and hauled him back by force.
"The old priest had sense enough to know Nangolat wouldn't make it," Angel said.
"All right," Tony said crisply. "We're trapped in here. It's not a bad place to be trapped for a while. They can't get at us without crossing open spaces, and there is enough overhang to the wall to prevent them from dropping rocks on our heads. Also, Balaban is up there to warn us if they try anything from that direction. But we can't stay here forever. We need help. How do we get it?"
"It has to be the constabulary at Baguio," Rick said. "There isn't any other help nearby. If worst comes to worst, I suppose we could call the American ambassador and try to get him to send Air Force troops from Clark Field."
"By the time diplomatic protocol and military red tape got untangled we'd be old men," Scotty objected. "If we lived to be old men. Also, you overlooked one little thing. How do we get a message to them?"
"Wait until night and one of us sneak out."
Tony looked at his watch. "We won't last until night," he said succinctly. "It's still early morning."
Rick examined the terrain between the cave and the road, noting where the station wagon Lazada had brought was parked.
"I'm going," he said. "Let history record that Rick Brant carried a message to...."
"Not Garcia," Chahda said. "That was in Cuba, says my Worrold Alminack. Carry message to cops."