epetition. Which would be a strain on its treasury and might help
toward bankruptcy. This was cold war.

The infantry ended. Horse-drawn vehicles appeared in a seemingly endless
line. Motorized transport would be better, but the Bulgarians were short
of it. Shaggy, stubby animals plodded in the wake of the tanks and the
infantry. There were two-wheeled carts in single file all across the
valley. They went through the village and filed after the soldiers.

"I think," said Coburn in biting anger, "this will be all there is to
see. They'll go in until they're stopped. They'll kidnap Greek civilians
and later work them to death in labor camps. They'll carry off some
children to raise as spies. But their purpose is probably only to make
such a threat that the Greeks will go broke guarding against them. They
know the Greeks don't want war."

He began to wriggle back from the brushwood screen. He was filled with
the sort of sick rage that comes when you can't actively resent
insolence and arrogance. He hated the people who wanted the world to
collapse, and this was part of their effort to bring it about.

He helped the girl down. "Dillon said to wait," he said. He found
himself shaking with anger at the men who had ordered the troops to
march. "He said he was taking pictures. He must have had an advance tip
of some sort. If so, he'll have a line of retreat."

Then Coburn frowned. Not quite plausible, come to think of it. But
Dillon had certainly known about the raid. He was set to take pictures,
and he hadn't been surprised. One would have expected Greek Army
photographers on hand to take pictures of a raid of which they had
warning. Probably United Nations observers on the scene, too. Yes. There
should be Army men and probably a United Nations team up where Dillon
was.

Coburn explained to the girl. "That'll be it. And they'll have a radio,
too. Probably helicopters taking them out also. I'll go up and tell them
to be sure and have room for you."

He started for the cliff he'd seen Dillon climb. He paused: "I'd better
have your name for them to report to Athens."

"I'm Janice Ames," she told him. "The Breen Foundation has me going
around arranging for lessons for the people up here. Sanitation and
nutrition and midwifery, and so on. The Foundation office is in
Salonika, though."

He nodded and attacked the cliff.

* * * * *

It hadn't been a difficult climb for Dillon. It wasn't eve