"There's a guy in there with a gun," one of the two protested. "He's inside and we're outside. We're sittin' ducks for him."
"We're covering the slots with rifles in the trees."
"But—" Neither of the men wanted to go up that ledge again. They might be hardened killers but they did not like the idea of facing a gun they could not see.
"Go on back up, boys," Retch said. He lifted the muzzle of the gun he held.
"But—"
"Either go back up or you'll stay down here a long time!"
They went back up the ledge. Retch retired to the shelter of the trees and watched.
No shots came until they reached the mouth of the tunnel leading into the cliff. There, one of the men was killed. He fell backward from the ledge, screaming as he turned over and over.
The falling man broke his way through the top of a tree and sprawled thudding on the ground. He did not move after he hit. Retch did not waste a second glance on him.
Muffled but clearly audible, the blasting roar of the machine gun came from the tunnel.