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rapidly into a walkie-talkie, calling up the police and SAS reserves.
Bond had insisted on going in alone. "I want to bring this guy back
alive," he had said.
"Careful, James!" Beatrice called as he jumped from the road into the
rocks. Boulders like sculpture, huge and rough, were strewn everywhere
up the slope, but he could see no sign of Baradj.
Beatrice him and they fanned out, watching each other's backs. In this
terrain it would be relatively simple for Baradj to outflank them and
take a shot from behind. But, when the shot came, it was from high up,
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and nothing thumped or ricocheted near either Bond or Beatrice.
Still spread out, they moved forward until they came to a wide-arched
opening, like a man-made cave in the face of the rock. It had been
barred by a large iron gate, fastened with a padlock. The padlock had
been shot away, and one of the gates was half open.
"The tunnels!" Beatrice whispered, and Bond nodded, "Yes, the tunnels,
and we have no idea how well he knows them."
"What about you?"
Bond shook his head, whispenng, "I've only ever been in the galleries
open to the public. But, where he goes we'll have to follow."
The phrase "As Solid as the Rock of Gibraltar" is a misnomer, for the
great Rock is, in reality, like a huge, giant ants' nest of tunnels. All
of them were military in nature, and the public were allowed to see the
first true feats of engineering - the Upper and Middle Galleries, built
under the instruction of Sergeant Major Ince of the Sappers in the
1780s. These faced Spain, were installed with cannon, and were largely
responsible for holding the Rock during the Great Siege. But that was
far from the end of the story. Later tunnelling played a key role
during World War Two, and sections of the tunnels were still very much
in use now.
Unless you knew the way, you could get lost very easily inside the Rock
of Gibraltar.
Bond and Beatrice edged their way in, trying not to allow their bodies
to be highlighted against the exterior.
Inside, the lights, drilled into the ceiling, were on, and they found
themselves in a high, curved vault, big enough to take a three-lane
highway.
They spread out, one taking each side of the rough-chiselled wall, their
eyes straining ahead for any sign of movement. There was none, and the
lights seemed to go on for ever.
They stopped beside two curved nissen huts, built into a cavern carved
from the rock-face. But they were locked and empty, so they continued,
moving slowly, very aware of the fact that, should Baradj find a
hiding-place - some dug-out in the rock - he could pick them off as easy
as shooting fish in a barrel.
The tunnel branched oft' and within a hundred yards Bond and Beatrice
found themselves in the remains of what had once been a field hospital.
Parts of tiled operating theatres remained, the sluices and lavatories
were intact. But the hospital led nowhere and, in minutes, they were
back in the wide main route.
Bond remembered now, that these tunnels were once full of men, tanks,
lorries, field guns, and jeeps. Indeed, they had been used as one of
the main staging posts for Operation Torch, the allied invasion of
French North Africa in 1942, the force commanded by Eisenhower, way back
when he was still only a Lieutenant-General. There were many ghosts in
this dank and cold place, and Bond could feel them all closing in on him
now as water dripped from the roof of this incredible stone highway.
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"Over here," Beatrice whispered, and he saw that there was another
tunnel leading off, only large enough to drive a jeep into, and possibly
reverse out again. They stopped, listened and went down the branch
tunnel. The far end was blanked off by a high metal wall, into which a
door had been set. Bond tried the door and it swung open easily.
Beatrice covered him while he leaped inside and was met by such an
incredible sight that he almost forgot to follow the routine. He heard
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