They reached the walls of Intramuros, and Scotty went left, Rick right. Somewhere along the walls, or within the city, was the intruder. The question was, Had the intruder kept right on going across the walled city, or was he in hiding, waiting to see whether or not he was being pursued? If the former, their chances of catching up with him were almost zero.
Rick rounded the corner of the wall and had a clear view all the way down to the Department of Commerce building nearly a half mile away. There were sufficient street lights to show him that the quarry was not in sight.
He saw a breach in the wall a few yards away and hurried toward it. There was almost no light within the walled city, he suspected, but he would have to look. The breach turned out to be a pile of rubble. He would have to go over the wall unless he wanted to search for an entrance. There wasn't time for that. He climbed up the pile of rubble, careful about his footholds, and gained the top of the wall. For a moment he was silhouetted at his full height.
And in that instant a rifle cracked. He saw the muzzle flame, and in the next instant he heard the soft smacking sound of the slug as it went past his ear. There was only one thing to do. He jumped.
The wall was high, and he had no way of knowing what was below, but it was better to risk unknown rubble than another shot from the sniper's gun.
He landed with knees flexed, struck level ground, but fell forward with the momentum of the fall. Thorns dug into his hands and he smothered a grunt of pain. He lay where he was, not moving, waiting for some move from the sniper and for his eyes to adjust themselves to the dense blackness within the walls.
He wondered whether the sniper and intruder were the same man. The intruder had carried no rifle when he went out the hotel window. But it was possible that he had cached one somewhere under the wall.
What could the man have been after? Rick rejected the idea that this was common thievery. It was possible, but not probable. Especially after the attack on Tony Briotti aboard the boat. And after finding that Chahda had gone underground and was posing as a Sikh.
He was sure something was cooking that boded ill for the expedition. Nor did he have to rack his brains to find the cause. A golden skull was reason enough. Mass murder had been committed for less gold many times before this.
His eyes searched the darkness, and his ears strained for the slightest sound, but no movement or noise followed. Yet, unless the sniper were the world's most silent walker, he could not have slipped away.