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nds rolled him over on his back and he became aware of a face framed by the vacant sky…a stern face with sea…blue eyes。 Gray hair flowed around a broad forehead like the helmet on a warrior in a Flemish painting。 An old man； aged somewhere beyond seventy years； wearing a worn turtleneck sweater； bent and touched Pitts face。
Then without saying a word； with surprising strength for a man of his years； he lifted Pitt up and carried him over the rise。 Through the cobwebs of his mind； Pitt began to wonder at the sheer coincidence； the miracle； which indeed it was； that led to his discovery。
No more than one easy stride over the small summit lay a road； he had fallen within spitting distance of a small dirt road that paralleled a tumbling glacial river of white froth； rushing swiftly through a narrow gorge of black lava rock。 Yet the sound Pitts ears had detected came not from the roar of the falling water； but from the exhaust of an engine belonging to a battered； dustcovered British…made jeep。
Like a child placing a doll in a highchair； the old Icelander set Pitt in the front passenger seat of the jeep。
Then he climbed behind the wheel and steered the rugged little vehicle over the winding road； stopping every so often to open a closed cattle gate； an operation that became routine as they entered a section of rolling hills divided by lush green meadows bursting with plovers that clouded the sky at the approach of the jeep。 They stopped in front of a small farmhouse with white sideboards and a red roof。 Pitt shrugged off the supporting hands and staggered into the living room of the fortable little house。 〃A telephone； quickly。 I need a telephone。
The blue eyes narrowed。 〃You are English？〃 the Icelander asked slowly in a heavy Nordic accent。
〃American；〃 Pitt answered impatiently。 〃There are two dozen seriously injured people out there who will die if we don't get help to them soon。〃
〃There are others on the plateau？〃 there was no concealing the astonishment。
〃Yes； yes！〃 Pitt nodded his head violently。 God； man； the phone。 Where do you keep it？〃
The Icelander shrugged helplessly。 〃The nearest telephone lines are forty kilometers away。〃
A great tidal wave of despair swept over Pitt only to ebb and vanish at the stranger's next words。
〃However； I have a radio transmitter。〃 He motioned to a side room。 〃Please； this way。〃
Pitt followed him into a small； well…lit； but Spartan room； the three primary pieces of furniture being a chair； a cabinet and an ancient hand…carved table holding a gleaming transmitter； not more than a few months from manufacture； Pitt could only marvel at the latest equipment being used in an isolated farmhouse。 The Icelander crossed hurriedly to the transmitter； sat down and began twisting the array of dials and knobs。 He switched the radio to SEND； selected the frequency and picked up the microphone。
He spoke a few words rapidly in Icelandic and waited。 Nothing came back over the speaker。 He shifted the transmitting frequency fractionally and spoke again。
This time a voice answered almost immediately。 The pressure of the race against death made Pitt as tense as a guy wire in a hurricane gale； and in total indifference to his pain and fatigue he paced the floor while his benefactor conversed with the …Reykjavik authorities。 After ten minutes of explanation and translation； Pitt requested and received a call from the American Embassy。
〃Where in the goddamned hell have you been？〃
Sandecker's voice exploded over the speaker so loudly that it might have e from the doorway。
〃Waiting for a streetcar； walking in the park；〃 Pitt snapped back。
〃It makes no difference。 How soon before a team of medics can be assembled and in the air？〃
There was a tense silence before the admiral answered。 There was； he knew； a tone of urgent insistence in Pitts voice； a tone Sandecker had seldom heard from Pitts lips。 〃I can have a team of Air Force paramedics ready to load in thirty minutes；〃 he said slowly。 〃Would you mind telling me the reason behind your request for a medical unit？〃
Pitt didn't answer immediately。 His thoughts were barely able to focus。 He nodded thankfully as the Icelander offered him the chair。
〃Every minute we waste with explanations； someone may die。 For God's sake； Admiral；〃 Pitt implored； 〃contact the Air Force and get their paramedics loaded on helicopters and supplied to aid victims of an air disaster。 Then while there's time； I can fill you in on the details。〃
〃Understood；〃 Sandecker said without wasting a word。 〃Stand by。〃
Pitt nodded again； this time to himself； and slumped dejectedly in the chair。 It won't be long now； he thought； if only they're in time。 He felt a hand on his shoulder； half turned and managed a crooked smile up at the warm…eyed Icelander。
〃I've been a rude guest；〃 he said quietly。 〃I haven't introduced myself or thanked you for saving my life。〃
The old man offered a long； weathered hand。
〃Golfur Andursson；〃 he said。 〃I am chief guide for the Rarfur River。〃
Pitt grit）ped Andursson's hand and introduced himself and then asked； 〃A chief guide？〃
〃Yes； a guide is also the river warden。 We act as guides for fishermen and watch over the ecology of the river； much like a conservationist in your own country who protects the natural resoarces of your inland water grounds。〃
〃It must be lonely work…〃 Pitts mouth stopped working and he gasped as a sharp pain in his chest nearly carried him into blackness。 He clutched the table； fighting to remain conscious。
〃e；〃 Andursson said。 〃You must let me tend to your injuries。〃
〃No；〃 Pitt answered firmly。 〃I must stay by the radio。 I'm not leaving this chair。〃
Andursson hesitated。 Then he shook his head and said nothing。 He disappeared from the room and returned in less than two minutes carrying a large first…aid case and a bottle。
You are lucky；〃 he said smiling。 〃One of your countrymen fished the river just last month and left this with me。〃 He held up and proudly displayed a fifth of Seagram's V。O。 Canadian Whiskey。 Pitt noticed that the seal on the cap had not been broken。
Pitt was on his fourth healthy swig and the old river warden had just finished binding his chest when the radio crackled and Sandecker's gravel voice broke into the room again。
〃Major Pitt； do you read me？〃
Pitt lifted the microphone and pressed the transmitting switch。 〃Pitt here。 I read you； Admiral。〃
〃The paramedics are mustering at Keflavik and Iceland's civilian search and rescue units are standing by。 I'll maintain radio contact and coordinate their efforts。〃 There was a momentary silence。 〃You have a lot of worried people here。 Keflavik has no report Of a missing plane； either military or mercial。〃
Rondheim wasn't taking any chances； Pitt thought。
The bastard。 was taking his own sweet time about reporting his overdue and missing guests。 Pitt breathed deeply and took another shot of the V。O。 Then he replied： 〃Notification isn't scheduled yet。〃
Total unprehension broke in Sandecker's voice。
〃e again。 Please repeat。〃
〃Trust me； Admiral。 I can't even begin to answer a tenth of the questions that must be running through everyone's mind； especially over the radio repeatespecially over the radio。〃
Somehow； Pitt thought； the names of the internationally known men back in the ravine had to be kept from the news services for at least the next thirty…six hours time enough to stop Kelly； Rondheim and Hermit Limited before they could be warned and go underground。 He had to give the admiral credit。 Sandecker caught Pitts implication of the need for secrecy almost immediately。 〃Your message is understood。 Can you give me the location？ Use your reverse coordination map。〃
〃Sorry； I know of no such…〃
〃Dammit！〃 Sandecker shouted； turning the speaker into a thunderbolt of distorted static。 〃Do as you're ordered。〃
Pitt sat and stared dumbly at the radio's speaker for nearly thirty seconds before Sandecker's hidden meaning began to register in his weary mind。 The admiral was offering him a chance to answer questions withOut giving away valid information； by replying in the contrar