The nose is one of the most pain-sensitive organs in the human body- and Malone was discovering the truth in scientific detail .sx Kennan had only seconds left .sx He jumped forward to the far limit of his chain , his right hand chopping edge-downwards in bone-jarring force .sx The blow took the writhing thug a fraction above the boney knob which landmarked the cervical plexus , the vital nerve-centre which a long-ago Marine instructor had declared the pinnacle of unarmed combat targets .sx The thug collapsed with a whistling moan , and Kennan tore the Luger from the man's suddenly limp hand .sx There was no time for rejoicing , but the hard , firm shape of the automatic sent a new confidence surging through his body .sx Shouts , and the clatter of feet meant Goldie and Leo Grundy were on their way .sx Kennan pulled the manacle chain taut , and blasted two shots at the link which tied him to the ring-bolt in the rock .sx The nine-millimetre bullets smashed the chain as if it had been plastic , and , free , though the chain still dangled , he threw himself across the floor towards the entrance .sx Leo Grundy materialized there at the same second , his gun throwing down for a target .sx Kennan squeezed trigger first , and the bullet , taking the other with blasting muzzle-velocity at close range , high in the chest , smashed him back and downwards while Grundy's shot bit splintering rock from the wall feet away , then whined in a double ricochet .sx With scrambling intensity , Kennan hurdled the man as he fell and was in the main gallery , looking for the last of the trio .sx Goldie Lord was running , back down the rock-walled corridor , past the tangle of camp-beds , stove , and collection of crates which marked their base , towards the far end of the tunnel where the lights stopped and a deep blackness marked the start of the way towards the surface .sx Kennan aimed , then lowered the gun and began sprinting instead .sx He couldn't , even in his present mood , shoot the man in the back .sx For Goldie had no gun , only the open razor held in his right hand , close by his side .sx Suddenly the other man tripped and went sprawling , one foot tangled in the rubber-armoured wire which snaked across the gallery from the midget power generator .sx The lights flickered , then held steady .sx Goldie lunged to his feet again , the razor flashing in a frantic sidestroke as his pursuer loomed over him .sx Kennan threw himself to one side to avoid the slicing metal , and swung the manacle chain like a flail , reaping a bloody swathe across his opponent's face , following it up with a blow from the gun-barrel which smashed the man's forearm , the bone fracturing with an audible click .sx He kicked the razor clear , then stood back , panting for breath , gesturing with the long black muzzle of the Luger .sx 'My turn .sx . get moving .sx .' he gasped , pointing back down the gallery .sx Tears of pain in his eyes , facial muscles quivering , Goldie rose slowly to his feet and obeyed .sx Kennan got behind him , let him reach the camp area , then smartly reversed the Luger and brought the butt down hard on the other man's head .sx Goldie went down , jack-knifing across one of the camp-beds .sx Limping badly now- the old familiar ache in his leg started again as the tension died- Kennan heaved the man over , rummaged around the collection of boxes and crates , and found a length of cord .sx He used it to lash the man's hands and feet together , then passed a few final turns round Goldie's body and camp-bed frame , anchoring him securely .sx The Luger ready , he walked slowly back towards the little side-gallery which had been his prison .sx Leo Grundy was lying with his back against the rock wall , barely conscious , his face suddenly younger and frightened , breath coming in wheezing gulps .sx Kennan stepped over him , collecting the man's gun on the way , and knelt beside Cutter Malone .sx The knifeman thug was dead .sx It was a moment or two before Kennan understood .sx The crushing blow he had landed on the man's neck , paralysing the vital nerve centre , by fluke chance had also been hard and accurate enough to damage the delicate nervous lacework which controlled life's respiratory action .sx Unconscious , Malone had died from lack of oxygen , just as surely as if he had been strangled .sx He felt sick .sx But there were other things to do than crouch over the probably unlamented remains of Cutter Malone .sx Kennan went back to where Leo Grundy was slumped , and eased the man back into a more comfortable position .sx Grundy's eyes , wide and bright with fear , followed every move he made .sx The handcuff key was still in the twenty-year-old's trouser pocket .sx With a sigh of relief , Kennan loosened the metal jaws , and massaged his red-wealed wrist .sx Now , however , he had another problem :sx What to do with the two surviving crooks .sx Goldie ?sx He could be discounted for some time , and his bonds should hold until he was collected by MacTaggart's men .sx But Leo Grundy- he bent low over the younger man again .sx Leo was as vicious as they came- but in a way he was sorry it had been he who'd stopped a bullet .sx Whatever his record , and Kennan had no illusions on that score , Leo had been the most humane of the trio towards him .sx 'I'm going to lift you and get you on to one of the beds .sx Understand ?sx ' Grundy coughed , and gave a faint mumble of acknowledgement .sx He wasn't heavy .sx Kennan carried him over , and laid him down on the nearest camp-bed , a pillow under his head .sx A two-gallon water-can , made of bright-red plastic , was lying near by .sx He poured some into a cup , and let the wounded man sip the liquid .sx The eyes showed something akin to gratitude .sx But the red stain on the front of Grundy's red woollen cardigan was spreading .sx Kennan's fingertips were stained the same colour as he unbuttoned the garment and loosened the shirt beneath .sx The Luger slug had made a neat round entry just below the collarbone .sx Easing him up , Kennan found the bullet's exit point , a more ragged wound , in from the shoulder-blade .sx Grundy would live .sx His lung was probably nicked , but with no sign yet of blood in his mouth he seemed to have been lucky .sx 'I'm going to give you it straight,' said Kennan .sx 'I'll pad up the wound , and send help as soon as I get out .sx If you stay still , you've a chance .sx Try getting away , and you'll haemorrhage within a hundred yards' Grundy nodded .sx He found a clean shirt in a small suitcase , tore it into strips , and used the resultant rags as bandages .sx Grundy was too weak from shock and his wound to do more than watch .sx When it was done , he settled back with a sigh .sx 'Answer me some questions .sx ' Kennan sat on the edge of the bed , the Luger on his lap .sx 'How far are we from the Polley-Bland plant ?sx ' Grundy swallowed , and mumbled a reply so low and hoarse that Kennan had to strain to hear .sx 'About .sx . about forty miles .sx We're in South .sx . Ayrshire .sx Takes about an hour , maybe more , to .sx . Glasgow .sx ' 'The inside man at the plant .sx He's an American ?sx ' A nod .sx 'His name ?sx ' Grundy tried to turn his head away .sx But he couldn't escape .sx He swallowed again .sx 'Spence .sx . that's what Vince Benson calls him .sx ' Gene .sx Since he'd lain chained to the rock , Kennan had realized that there was no other choice .sx But somehow he'd kept hoping he could be wrong .sx Now , he had to face facts , and concentrate on the other important task still on hand , saving Big Betsy , the crucial item of equipment on which the Polley-Bland contract and so much more depended .sx He lit a cigarette , and put his final question .sx 'How are they going to do it ?sx How do they knock out the transformer ?sx ' The fear of death was large in Grundy's eyes .sx He knew that Kennan was his only hope of getting medical attention , and by his standards it seemed logical enough that there was an unspoken threat as to the consequence of failure to answer .sx 'Spence .sx . Spence didn't tell us .sx Vince knows , but he wouldn't talk either .sx ' Grundy licked his lips , face white and desperate .sx 'All I know is the time .sx . eleven a.m. Hell , Kennan , I .sx . I'd tell you if I could .sx ' Kennan tried again .sx But , his voice hoarse and weak , coupling his words with a plea for a doctor , the little crook persisted that the exact method to be used was a secret Gene Spence had refused to reveal .sx It was eight-thirty- only half an hour since the brooch and fish hook trap had sprung .sx Time enough , Kennan knew , but leaving nothing to spare .sx There was a storm lantern lying among the clutter of stores , and he picked it up , took a last look around the underground gallery , sniffing the faint odour of gunsmoke still lingering in the air , then headed towards the black of the tunnel to the surface .sx Compared with the main gallery , the ventilation tunnel was smaller and narrow .sx Even with the wavering beam of the storm light , he more than once bumped his head on the two hundred yard trip along the shaft's rough , rising surface towards ground level .sx The last fifty yards or so was at an upward angle of almost forty-five degrees .sx Then he was at the heavy door at the shaft entrance .sx For a moment , staring at it , he thought he'd have to go back and try to find a key .sx But Benson had obviously decided he'd never be locked in from the inside .sx There was a simple handle mechanism which governed the massive lock .sx The door swung wide , and he was free , in the open , standing in the clean fresh air , the sun shining above , the soft , still dew-moist grass springy underfoot .sx A curlew rose from a patch of heather only feet away and soared skywards , giving its distinctive 'pee-wit' cry .sx He felt like laughing and crying , both at the same time .sx And in the middle distance , the narrow tarmac ribbon of a road cut across the dark green of the moorland .sx Kennan dragged a heavy boulder over to the shaft doorway , placing it in such a way that the door couldn't swing shut .sx Then , shoving the Luger into the waistband of his trousers , he set off for the road .sx Half a mile along the road , after tossing a coin and electing to take the left-hand direction , he managed to thumb a lift .sx The driver of the farm tractor had taken some convincing when he first saw the ragged , blood-stained tramp waving from the roadside .sx But Kennan still had his wallet , and money .sx The tractor , its fare-paying passenger perched precariously behind the driver , roared along the country highway at full throttle , and after about a mile swung into a small plantation of fir trees .sx The farmhouse was in the middle .sx More explanations , considerably complicated by the fact that he had to explain the gun in his waistband while the farmer's wife held an old-fashioned single-barrelled shotgun pointed at his midriff , finally ended with him being allowed to use the farmhouse phone .sx While he waited for the operator at police head-quarters in Glasgow to locate Superintendent MacTaggart , Kennan asked his audience :sx 'What's the name of this place ?sx ' The farmer's wife , the shotgun now laid against the table but still near at hand , told him .sx 'Aultdonald .sx About three miles out o' Cumnock , mister .sx ' In her broad Ayrshire dialect she demanded in turn , 'are you one of them Americans from the air base at Prestwick ?sx ' He shook his head , and turned back to the phone as MacTaggart's voice crackled over the wire .sx 'Where the hell have you been , Kennan ?sx ' barked the policeman .sx 'I've had a full scale search going on for you for almost twenty-four hours now .sx The American Embassy's been howling that you've got to be found , the Home Office joining in the chorus , and I've been left holding the baby .sx What happened ?sx ' Kennan told him as crisply as possible , conscious of the open-mouth attention of the two other people in the farmhouse kitchen .sx