Speed mounted as the drop became steeper. Bolan steered right, heading straight for the back of the flattopped rock that jutted out below them.

There was a slight bump as they dropped off to the boulder — then utter smoothness as they took off from this improvised sandstone ramp. Bolan had the courage of his convictions. His calculations were correct. They flew over the strip he had forced the brigand to remine and hit the sand forty-five feet farther down.

He slowed dramatically, still tracking the Hog straight and true, right into the narrow exit at the bottom of the concealed pass. Harrison had entered the notch and was coming down the hill full tilt. He followed the natural sweep of the ancient track, swinging wide of the big rock.

The Hog was almost down to a crawl to squeeze through the sharp turn in the cleft when Harrison's Jeep plowed into the realigned mines. The first explosion flung the vehicle against the cliff, then it bounced back and triggered two more of the hidden devices.

The noise of the explosions reverberated between the walls of the cut... and the roaring vibrations brought down huge slabs of the weathered rock. The truck driver tried to brake as he saw the Jeep first tossed aside by the explosions and then crushed under the collapsing cliff. But he was too late. The heavy truck kept sliding forward, until it was flattened into another piece of debris blocking the passageway. Bolan was already into the clear on the other side. They saw a dust cloud and lots of loose stones come bounding out of the notch. And a screeching rumble as thousands of tons of rock smothered the trail behind them.

No one would be following them by this route over the Jebel Kharg. They sped past the campsite hidden behind the swayback ridge, slithering across the loose scree on their downhill run. Bolan had to fight to keep the Hog from sliding off the trail in places. Three-quarters of the way down the treacherous jebel, lie found a shelf that was level enough to halt the vehicle.

"Time to refuel... this is a five-minute pit stop, then we're on our way again."

The dust had billowed up on the crosscurrents of the wind and was now a grayish-yellow smudge smeared across the sky behind them.

"There must be other passes through those hills, someplace farther along," said Bolan. The landslide had only bought them time. They all knew that. Bolan flattened the last of the empty gas containers and stuffed them into a crevice. He wanted the ATV to be as light as possible for this last lap to the coast.

They shared a little more of the water. Something caught Bolan's attention far off on their left flank.

He swept the area through the binoculars. Kevin shaded his eyes and stared in the opposite direction.

"Look, what's that over there?" The youngster pointed toward the disputed frontier.

Bolan swung around. "Camels. Six riders. And they're moving fast."

"Another band of nomads?" asked Danny.

Bolan had given the glasses to Kevin.

"I don't think so," said Bolan, "they look more like a long-range border patrol."

"I've seen men like that at the fortress," Kevin told them. "They had a long discussion with Hassan... about four days ago."

"Yeah, and I saw a Khurabi Desert Police plane off that way, flying parallel to the road." Bolan pointed back to the left. "I think the desert police are in this together with Hassan. That plane's probably on the way to pick him up now."

"But how could..." Danny began.

"It's light enough to use the road as a makeshift landing strip. Zayoud can be back in the city in time to lead his coup."

"And still cut us off before we can escape," added Danny. "But how does that mounted patrol know what's going on?"

"Just because they still ride camels doesn't mean they're not in radio contact. I'm sure they've received orders to intercept us." Bolan glanced at his watch. It was past noon. The race to the coast would be rough going. He walked around the Hog, inspecting it closely for wear and tear. "Okay, all aboard. Kevin, you better take a good look at this Uzi — you may have to use it before this thing is over."

He gave the young man a quick course on the use of the submachine gun as they ran down the final incline and onto the plain. Danny stood in back, keeping watch for any sign of the police patrol. They had gone to earth in the scorching wilderness of shifting sands, mineral beds and broken rocks.

"It hardly looks like it's worth fighting over," remarked Kevin.

"They'll fight and kill for what's underneath it," said Bolan. "And even if the oil wasn't there, they'd still murder one another in the name of blind faith — that and a lust for power. My guess is that the revolt's under way. I wonder how many of the armed forces and the police are going to be fighting on Hassan's side."

"A lot of the more traditionally minded ones probably think his brother has gone soft," said Danny. "Too soft for their liking. Too westernized."

"I don't know what Hassan told you, Chip, or what he pretended to be, but he's not the legitimate ruler of Khurabi. At least, not yet," said Bolan. "The first step is an armed coup to topple the rightful ruler, his elder brother, Sheikh Harun Zayoud. But he's got even bigger plans... and that's where you were to come in. Hassan's already got hold of all the bits and pieces he needs to build a nuclear bomb — you were to provide the know — how. Did he talk to you about that?"

"Yes... yes, he did. Well, a little bit," admitted Kevin. "Nothing specific. You've got to believe me, I didn't know anything about all this." Kevin chewed on a fingernail, wondering how he could have been so blind. Only now could he analyze step-by-step what had happened to him: the sheer relief at being rescued from the court hearing, the sheikh's generosity and friendly assurances, the adventure of living in a desert castle, the promise of unlimited equipment and all the time he wanted to play with it.

But he had never really wanted to count what all this might cost. Even now Bolan's suggestion seemed too farfetched, almost too fantastic for him to comprehend. Why were grown-ups so dishonest? Is that what Hassan had wanted all the time? Did the sheikh really expect him to build a bomb? Would he have done? Kevin had no illusions what would have happened to him if he had refused to cooperate.

He had seen Hassan's terrible temper in the way he'd treated some of the men. And since that scene this morning in the yard, Kevin knew he didn't really mean that much to Hassan — not as much as a horse, at any rate.

And what of this Mack Bolan guy? Kevin kind of liked Danica, though. But could he trust either of them? He had seen the locket all right, but that could have been stolen, so how did he know they weren't snatching him for their own ends?

Kevin felt very confused.

Alone.

And afraid.

The wind was whipping up the loose sand into a choking fog as they cruised across one of the few level patches. A line of low hillocks seemed to bar the way in front of them.

Danny glanced back through the swirling dust, wondering if all the mercs were now heading for the showdown in Khurabi or if a few of them were still tracking after the Hog. If Hassan Zayoud had not recalled his dogs of war, would Bolan and his group be able to outrun their trackers? The Hog bounced over a deep rut. Danny swayed to keep her balance. It also saved her life.

A bullet clanged off the roll bar, gouging the metal as it ricocheted past her shoulder.

Bolan accelerated toward a heap of boulders at the base of the nearest rise. The next shot creased his upper arm; a dark stain began to spread along the torn cloth.

He skidded sideways up to the rocks. Kevin jumped out and ducked into the gap between the body of the Hog and the boulder. Danny vaulted over the back and squeezed in with him.