Niva flushed. “You are welcome.”
“Won’t you sit down?” Stan invited.
“No, I will stand. I cannot talk much this time,” she said.
Stan nodded. He guessed that her leader had been disappointed or angered because she had learned nothing from him. He ate the chicken and the rice and drank the coffee. Niva was as silent as any of the other women passing through the grounds, but she watched him as he ate and when he had finished, she picked up the tray and smiled at him.
“Good luck,” she said under her breath. “Tonight I will be hoping for you.” She turned and moved quickly away.
Stan considered her words a moment. She seemed to have been hinting that tonight was the night. He wandered about wondering why he had not asked her a lot of questions. After he had thought it over, he knew why. He had not wished to place her in any danger.
The west wall began to cast long shadows. Dusk fell slowly and still no guards came to put him into his cell. Lights appeared inside the temple and Stan saw lank men moving about lighting grease wicks. He watched the gunner at the nearest gate meet his relief gunner. For night guard two men with machine guns were placed at the entrance and a lantern was hung in the archway.
Stan studied the chances of rushing the guards. He would have a full twenty feet to charge straight into the muzzles of two rapid-fire guns. If he had had a hand grenade, escape would have been easy. He went back to thinking about the plan he had gone to sleep upon.
The stars came out and a full moon rose above the wall. Stan stayed out in the open, walking about very slowly, listening to every sound. A wind sprang up and Stan noticed that the lantern hanging in one of the archways had gone out, probably blown out by the sudden gust of wind.
Eagerly he slid toward the opening, crouching low as he moved into the shadows along the wall.