HALO, or High Altitude Low Opening, was a skydiving technique developed by the Green Berets. It involved exiting an aircraft at more than 30,000 feet using oxygen and freefalling all the way down to about 1,200 feet where the chute is deployed. The skydivers could travel almost 20 miles laterally which allowed the aircraft to remain in friendly airspace. It was hazardous enough, even more so at night. To Lara, the idea was absolutely insane. Even though she was a moderately experienced sport jumper, this kind of jump was beyond her expertise. Jack pomised she would be safe as long as she remembered the procedures he taught her. She resolved to jump no matter what. She couldn't back down in front of these men.

The tailramp opened and the four black-clad parachutists stepped gingerly to the edge. The lights of Nairobi could be seen to the right and the thin pink ribbon of sunset stretched out before them. It was a breathtaking sight. The warning light turned from red to green and the four of them jumped into the cloudless African night.

**************

"Boss!"

"Come in."

Jamba strode into the Ambassador's office. Its current occupant was seated behind the desk, enjoying one of the fine Cuban cigars the Ambassador kept in a cedar box on the desk. Despite what the police and reporters thought outside, he was far from a terrorist. His hands had rarely seen manual labor, the nails neatly manicured. The chic safari clothes he wore were the work of Savile Row tailors. His tan came not from days toiling on the savannah but from relaxing in St. Tropez. Despite all that, he instilled fear in the hearts of the twenty heavily-armed men that were currently occupying the building and surrounding grounds. His name was Jean-Pierre Rimoux.

"Oui, Jamba", Rimoux replied smoothly, "What is it?"

"We have heard from our friends in New York. She departed in a military jet. She must be on her way here."

Rimoux allowed a cold smile to cross his face. Croft was involved. She was coming. To the mountain.

"Excellent news, Jamba. Soon our prize will be in our hands, thanks to Miss Croft."

"By the way, Boss," Jamba added, "The hostages are complaining again. They want to go to the bathroom." That drew a sardonic smile from the man behind the desk.

"Well, let us not stand in the way of their bowels."

Jamba nodded and left the office. Rimoux leaned back in the leather chair and inhaled deeply. These were indeed wonderful cigars. How unfortunate their previous owner was too dead to enjoy them any longer. Rimoux knew the Eye was hidden in the mountain. The tribal records he recently found proved it. He also knew that Lara would find those same records and figure out how to retrieve the Eye.

'Ahh,' he thought, 'Lara, we will meet again. It has been so long since you stole what was rightfully mine. Now, I shall steal it from you.' Rimoux chuckled softly. 'Perhaps I will have the pleasure of taking the Eye from your dead hands.'

**************

"How's the ankle?" Givens offered a hand to help Lara to her feet. She twisted her ankle on the landing. Other than that, the jump went pretty well.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose," Lara grimaced. "I'll have to lace that boot a bit tighter."

Givens smiled. "You did great for a first night jump, Ma'am. I broke my arm my first time."

Lara smiled back. "Thanks. And please, call me Lara. I'm not a Royal, you know."

Givens' smile broadened. "You got it, Lara."

After hiding their parachutes, jumpsuits and harnesses, the team assembled their packs and huddled in a circle to plan their next move. Jack flipped on his laptop and called up the tactical map file.

"Okay. GPS says we're right here, the summit is here. Lara, what's next?"

Lara leaned over to see the LCD screen, holding her faxes close.

"Right," she began, "According to these Maasai tribal drawings, there is an entrance to a cavern on the northeast face of the mountain. Just here, I should think. It's outside the park reserve, so there shouldn't be any footpaths there. Look at this drawing. It shows a spear of stone marking the entrance to the cavern. Most likely a rock formation."

D.C. peered at the screen dubiously. "How the heck're we gonna get there without running into park rangers? They have patrols all through there."

"We'll have to go through here," Jack declared, running his finger along a spit of land close to the summit. "This rocky area will give us cover until we reach the tall grass. Then it's another mile or so to the spear. It'll be rough humping across five miles of crappy terrain." He paused, looking everyone in the eye.

"Remember, people. This is not a hot war mission. The rules of engagement are strict. Weapons tight; only fire on my order. The Tanzanians are not the enemy, but if they fire on us, drop 'em."

"I'd like to add," Lara interjected, "that we'll be crossing free range. We'll likely encounter a cattle herd or two. Where there're cattle, there're cattle herders. And they have excellent hearing."

"No problem", D.C. said flatly. We sneak in, grab the green rock and get out. Should be a snap."

"If it were that easy, you wouldn't have called me. These expeditions have their own unique dangers. Something this important will be protected by an elaborate series of boobytraps. There may even be creatures in there dedicated to keeping us out."

Everyone looked at Lara incredulously. Givens didn't buy it.

"Girl, whatcha talkin' about? I know you didn't say that."

"I did. Wait until my next book comes out."

The four of them sat motionless for a few seconds. Then Jack finally spoke.

"Alright. D.C., take point. Then me, then Lara, and Terrell takes the rear. That's it, people. Move out."

CHAPTER SIX