15
Michael Cunningham was back at his ambush position an hour before daybreak. He made himself comfortable and waited, still and silent, watching the cave entrance through high powered binoculars, removing them occasionally to allow his eyes to rest. At one point, thinking he heard a sound close to where he lay, a sound incongruous amid the silence of the pre-dawn ambience, he took the binoculars from his eyes, and c****d his head to listen.
Slowly, conscious of not drawing undue attention to his position, he turned his head in the direction he thought the sound originated and peered into the slowly dissipating gloom. As he moved his head, his eyes lingered and focused on shadows cast by the surrounding vegetation. Gnarled, twisted, ghostly images generated by stumpy bushes and tree bran
