I can't hurt you. I'm dead. See? I'm not even breathing. Now come on over here and get your d.a.m.n knife you son of a Someone touched me.

I sprang to my feet, whirled, slashed with the knife. It was hardly an expert move but it would gain me some time. A few seconds to leap, to drive the point home and then - 'Benny what the h.e.l.l are you doing!' I swore.

Jason.

I sucked in a breath, tried to control the shakes. 'Where's the Soldier?'

'He's gone.' 'He'll be back.' 'What do you mean? He thinks you're dead.'

'He didn't retrieve his knife. He knew there could be others about. He's gone to get the others.'

'He'll be ages then.'

I almost screamed, 'Haven't you ever heard of radios? And compa.s.ses?'

'Oh.

'Yes, "Oh"!' I sighed. 'We have to get out of here. Now. Get the others.'

We ran.

Well, we stumbled, we fell, we swore. But we moved. Dilaver lead us through the night. I didn't know where he was going and I didn't ask. I don't know how he managed to put one foot in front of the other. It seemed impossible. He did it anyway.

As we ran I thought of the people we were leaving behind. I thought of Raelsen. Was he alive or dead? I asked myself that question over and over again until I fell and almost broke my ankle.

I stopped wondering then and thought seriously about looking where I was going. I accepted Tanner's helping hand, and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other in a frantic limp.

After twenty minutes Dilaver stopped. We all but b.u.mped into him in the darkness.

n.o.body spoke. n.o.body needed to.

There were voices. Gruff, male voices. Soldiers. One issued orders in a quiet voice.

Soldiers.

We had practically run into them.

'They must be following us.' That was Jason; fear edged his voice. Never mind, dear. I'm sure Denton will give you a hug.

I told him to shut up.

Dilaver moved backwards away from the voices. He began to circle the spot where the soldiers were. That wasn't easy because they were obviously moving forwards.

A thought struck me. There seemed to be more voices than those of the four soldiers Jason had described. What if Tammuz had called up reinforcements?

I suddenly remembered something Tanner had said earlier: 'Why are there soldiers on both mountains?'

It all clicked together.

The mountains were linked. The sites were linked. Both sets of soldiers had Geiger counters. Their actions had been identical. Whatever her affection for Jason, Denton was right about the nature of the geological formations here. Finding uranium on one mountain, let alone two, was about as likely as my growing wings.

This wasn't about uranium. Whether they realized it or not.

I thought that one through in a heartbeat. The answer was obvious; ironic and terrifying. Both forces were going to try to occupy each other's site.

And we were caught in the middle.

Dilaver yelped suddenly. The yelp was followed by the soft punch of a silenced gunshot. The sound of running footsteps stopped abruptly, in a sound like someone dropping a sack of vegetables.

Then nothing.

I stood quite still. I felt nothing. I was numb. Some part of me knew Dilaver was dead. Far away streaks of grey crept across the sky. Dawn was coming. Would it find us dead on this mountainside? Would it find me dead here?

Shapes emerged from the pre-dawn gloom. Soldiers. With guns. The soldiers pointed the guns at us.

'Benny!'

Jason turned to run. I reached out to grab him as guns shifted to cover us.

'Shut up, Jason. Keep still and shut up. Maybe they won't kill us.'

He shut up. It was a small victory. Getting out of this one seemed unlikely.

Denton, Schofield and Tanner pressed close. I saw Dilaver huddled nearby on the ground. He groaned, twisted.

We waited.

One of the figures said, 'Kneel down. Do not move. I do not want to kill you.' I recognised him from Jason's description.

Tammuz.

Tanner looked at me.

'Do as he says.'

We knelt.

Tammuz moved closer to us. He seemed on the point of speaking again when a shot punched the air and the soldier standing next to him fell over.

Immediately Tammuz and the others dived for cover.

I turned. More soldiers, grey shapes in the misty dawn, were clambering over the rocks.

Iraqis.

Samran.

A blood-red sun hoisted itself over the rocks.

The black insect shape of a military helicopter hung before it, rotors shredding the fog, black smoke coughing from its exhausts, weapons pods deployed and facing us.

'It never rains but it b.l.o.o.d.y pours,' I whispered.

No one laughed.

I grabbed Jason and threw him to the ground as the soldiers opened fire.

The battle took place in eerie half-silence.

Bullets chopped the air over our heads. Soldiers leapt from the rocks, ran through the fog. Metal clinked. Boots smacked against the rocks. Every so often a soldier would be hit and would fall. One, wounded but not killed outright, lay rolling on the ground about twenty feet away. The sound of his groans, m.u.f.fled by the fog, became a constant backdrop to the action.

There were no other voices. No shouts. No orders.

A puff of dirt hit me in the face as a bullet hit the ground about three feet in front of me.

The bullet was followed by a set of boots.

Why didn't anyone shoot us?

I knew the answer to that one. We had no guns. And we were needed alive by both sides.

Something exploded nearby. Beside. me Jason flinched.

I wriggled to him and pressed his face against the ground. 'Shut up and keep still!'

Another explosion. A whole series, getting louder. Closer.

No. Not explosions.

Backfires.

An image of Sven waving from the c.o.c.kpit of his chopper as he sprayed me with sheeps.h.i.t swam before my eyes.

Backfires.

I was on my feet in an instant, grabbing Jason, dragging him up, kicking the others, screaming. 'Get up. Get up! It's him! He's come for us! He's in the chopper! Come on, move it!'

We ran through fog, drenched in ruddy morning sunlight, bullets tugging at our hair and clothes.

The fog tore apart in front of us.

The chopper hovered a hundred yards away. Bullets whined, cracked against the rocks.

I could hear voices now, shouting orders.

The chopper moved closer, hugging the ground, blasting dust and grit into the air.

We ran.

The soldiers ran too.

Something tugged at my sleeve. I spun round. Schofield was falling. I grabbed him, pulled him upright, staggered on. Then we were at the chopper. Jason and Tanner were already aboard. I saw Jason waving from the hatch. Sven was beside him. And a tall figure that must have been Chris Cwej. I grinned at the big lunk. Boy, was he going to get a hug and a half!

A figure waved impatiently from the c.o.c.kpit. There he was, one hand holding his d.a.m.n hat on, the other on the joystick, a cheerful grin splitting his ageless face.

The Doctor.

He yelled something, waved me on.

I shoved Schofield up towards the hatch. Chris grabbed him and straight-armed him off the ground. That boy could have been born a crane.

A bullet whined off the fuselage, scattering sparks into the wind. I had one hand on the undercarriage ready to haul myself aboard when I remembered Dilaver.

I let go.

Chris yelled something I couldn't hear.

I screamed, 'He came back for me! The kid came back for me and I'm not going to leave him behind now!'

Chris was still yelling but the wind and the thudding of bullets against the airframe made nonsense of his words. Then I was running back the way I had come.

Back across the battlefield to get Dilaver.

They caught me of course. I had one arm around the boy and was lifting him when I felt a gun press against the back of my neck.

The gun kept pushing until I was forced to kneel.

I knelt, cradling Dilaver against me as the fog blew away. The firefight had stopped now. The ground was littered with soldiers.

Fifty feet away a soldier was groaning as he rolled on the ground. I heard a shot. The groans stopped.

I didn't turn.

I knew who had me at gunpoint. Dilaver's description was more than adequate.

Samran.

I wondered if the others had got away. That question was answered as the sound of a chopper engine shattered the morning air. I looked up, shielding my eyes as grit blasted around me. I saw him in the c.o.c.kpit. Hat still precisely placed, eyes narrowed. The chopper was almost close enough to touch.

I felt the gun press into my neck.

I saw his eyes widen as he saw me. Saw the man with the gun at my head.

The chopper banked left, began to circle. I felt myself pulled around to face it. The chopper stopped.

So did I.

As a standoff it was a cla.s.sic. Me on my knees with an injured boy in my arms and Samran's gun at my head, the Doctor in the chopper, weapons pods facing us at point-blank range. James Cameron eat your heart out.