"It looks a lot messier than it is. I'll make sure it doesn't get worse, then get you to a doctor. It'll be fine."

With her head tilted back she seemed to be looking up at the canopy. Her face was fixed in a terrible grimace, eyes screwed tight.

I cleared some leaf litter that had stuck to the sweat on her forehead and whispered into her ear, "Really, it's not that bad ... it's a clean break. You haven't lost that much blood, but I've got to fix it so the bone doesn't move about and cause any more damage. It's going to hurt more while I sort it out you know that, don't you?"

I caught sight of Luz, who was still in position on her knees, looking back at us. I gave her the thumbs up, but all I got in return was a fleeting, tearstained half-smile.

Carrie's chest heaved up and down as she sucked in air, quietly screaming to herself as she took the pain.

"Carrie, I need you to help me, will you do that, will you help me? I want you to hold on to the tree behind you when I say, OK?"

Forcing the words out haltingly through the tears, she sobbed, "Get on with it."

There was a burst of fire further up the treeline. Luz flinched and looked back.

I held up both my hands and mouthed to her, "It's OK, it's OK."

The firing stopped and Luz turned back to her task. The BUBs echoed about us in the fading light as I gently eased Carrie's inch-wide webbing belt through the hoops of her cargos and put it down by her feet. Then I took off my sweatshirt, knowing I was sentencing myself to being one big mozzie banquet.

I ripped a sleeve away from its st.i.tching. Carrie's eyes were closed, her lips quivering, as I started pulling on the large waxy leaves that drooped down about us. In a minute, I'm going to move your good leg next to your bad one. I'll do it as carefully as I can."

Rolling up the leaves into big cigar shapes, I gently packed them all the way down between her legs, to act as padding between the good leg and the bad. I carried on as the odd Spanish shout penetrated the canopy, then picked up her good leg.

"Here we go, here we go." She was breathing as rapidly as if she was giving birth. I brought it gently over towards her injured one, just as the first splatter of rain hit the canopy. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Luz moved back to me on her knees.

"It's raining, what do we do?"

I shrugged.

"Get wet."

Carrie's features twisted again in agony. As rain tumbled on to her face she held out her hand for Luz to grasp, and mother and daughter whispered to each other. I needed Luz on stag. I signalled that I wanted her to move, and she shuffled back to her post.

I pushed the sleeve through the mud below Carrie's knees and laid it out flat, then frantically ripped the rest of the now soaking-wet sweatshirt into strips to improvise bandages.

"Nick, the ship ..."

The ship has to wait."

I carried on ripping and tearing as the rain notched itself up to monsoon strength. I couldn't even hear the BUBs any more, or the people in the open ground if they were still there.

I leant over her, right up to her ear.

"I need you to bring your hands back and grab hold of the tree behind you."

There was a deep rumble of thunder directly above us as I guided her hands round the thin trunk, debating whether or not to explain what I was going to do with her next.

"Grip hard and don't let go, no matter what."

I decided against it; she was in enough pain without antic.i.p.ating more.

I crawled back down to her feet and fed the belt under both her ankles, digging into the mud so I didn't move her damaged leg any more than I had to. Then, kneeling in front of her, I gently picked up the foot of the injured leg between my hands, the right supporting her heel and the other on her toes.

Her whole body tensed.

"It's going to be OK, just keep hold of that tree. Ready?"

Slowly but firmly, I pulled her foot towards me. I rotated it as gently as I could, stretching the injured leg out straight to stop the taut muscles from displacing the bone any more and, I hoped, bring some relief from the pain. It wasn't easy, there was a lot of thigh muscle to pull against. Every movement must have felt like a stab from a red hot knife. She gritted her teeth and for a long time didn't make a sound, then finally it all became too much. She screamed as her body jerked, but didn't release her grip as the exposed bone started to retract from the open wound.

Rain fell in torrents and more thunder rumbled across the darkening sky as I continued with the traction. She screamed again and her body convulsed as I sat down, pulling her leg with all my weight.

"Nearly there, Carrie, nearly there ..."

Luz came running over and joined in the sobs. It was understandable, but I didn't need it. I hissed at her, "Shut up!" There was no other way that I could think of, but it just made her worse. She whimpered again, and this time I just let her get on with it.

My hands were busy and I couldn't cover her mouth. I couldn't let go because the muscle contraction would pull it back in again and cause more damage.

I started to feed the canvas belt over Carrie's ankles with my left hand, and then over her sandal led feet in a figure of eight.

"Keep your good leg straight, Carrie, keep it straight!" Then I pulled back on the ends of the belt to keep everything in place, tying a knot with the belt still under tension to keep her feet together.

Carrie had been jerking like an epileptic, but still held on to the tree and, more importantly, kept her good leg straight.

"It's OK, OK. It's done."

As I knelt up Luz fell on top of her mother. I tried to get her off.

"Let her breathe." But they weren't having any of it, clutching each other tight.

It was getting so dark I could hardly see beyond the two of them now, and the fracture still had to be immobilized so it couldn't do any more damage. I gently folded over the sweatshirt sleeve lying under her knees and tied the ends together with the knot on the side of her good knee. Large lumps of bright green leaf protruded between her legs now that they were getting strapped together.

I placed strips of sweatshirt firmly and carefully over the wound. I fed the material under her knees and then worked it up before tying off on the side of the good leg. I wanted to immobilize the fracture, and put pressure on the wound to stem the blood loss.

Rain cascaded down, blurring my vision as it ran into my eyes. I was working virtually by feel as I tied off the other sleeve round her ankles, adding more support to the canvas belt.

I stayed sitting at Carrie's feet, almost shouting to make myself heard above the rain. TMow you can give me my Scout's first-aid badge."

All I had to do now was make sure that the sweatshirt wasn't tied too tight. I couldn't tell if the blood supply was reaching below the ties; without light I couldn't see if the skin was pink or blue, and finding the pulse was a nightmare. There was really only one option.

"If you feel pins and needles, you've got to tell me, OK?"

I got a short, sharp "Yep!"

I couldn't even see my hand in front of my face now as I checked Baby-G. The dial illuminated and it was 6.27. Just behind me, I could hear both of them crying, even above the drumming on the vegetation.

I was starting to feel cold. Not too sure where their heads were, I called out into the darkness, "You two must keep physical contact with each other all the time. You must each know where the other is all the time never let go of each other." I put my hand out and felt wet material: it was Luz's back as she cuddled her mother.

No way were we walking out of here. What the f.u.c.k was there to do now? I didn't really know. Well, actually I did, but I was trying to deny it. That was probably what was making me feel cold.

I was kneeling there in the rain when I heard Luz speak up.

"Nick?"

I tapped my hand on her back to acknowledge her.

'You going to get Daddy now?"

THIRTY-SIX.

It seemed I had come to that bridge.

I'll be no more than a couple of hours."

She wasn't wearing a watch, but some kind of timing would be something to cling on to.

"Eight thirty, Nick, eight thirty..." Carrie fought between short, sharp breaths, as if I needed reminding.

"If I'm not back by first light," I said, 'you need to get out into the open ground and make yourself known. You'll need taking care of. Once the weather clears they can use the heli to get you to hospital." Maybe, maybe not: I didn't know what they'd do, but there was no other way if I didn't return.

Going back to the house had been a simple choice to make. Carrie needed medical attention. I needed a wagon to get her to Chepo. I had to go and get one, and that meant getting Aaron out of there too. Stealing a wagon in the middle of the night, then picking Carrie up so close to the house was a no-no: it simply wouldn't work. I needed to have control of the house and the people in it first.

I didn't know if it was the physical pain, or the realization that what I'd just talked about was a contingency plan for if Aaron and I were both dead, but she let out a loud sob. Rain drummed on Luz's back as she knelt over her mother and joined in. I just let them get on with it, not really knowing what else to do while I tried to think through what I'd do once I was at the house without coming up with much.

I checked Baby-G: 6.32. Less than two hours till Aaron's bluff was called.

I felt my knees sinking into the mud. 'I'll see you both soon. In fact, I won't see you, I'll hear you ..." I gave a weak laugh.

I drew an imaginary straight line down her body to her feet. She hadn't shifted position since I'd laid her down, so I knew that that was the way to the treeline. I started crawling, feeling my way over the wet leaf litter, and soon emerged into the open ground.

There was an immediate difference in the ambient noise. The dull pounding of rain into mud took over from the almost tinny noise of it hitting leaves. It was just as dark, however, and because of the dead ground I couldn't see any lights from the house.

I stood up and stretched, then ripped an armful of palm leaves from the trees at the edge and laid them out on the ground at my entry point, throwing mud on top to keep them in place. Then, with the heel of my boot, I sc.r.a.ped deep score marks into the mud for good measure. It didn't matter if Charlie's men found the long straight puddles after first light by then I'd either have done my job and be away from here, or it would all have gone to rat s.h.i.t anyway and Carrie and Luz would need finding.

I set off towards the house, conscious that the helicopter would be somewhere to my left. I was tempted to make my way over to it and have a look for a weapon.

But what if the pilot was asleep inside or listening to a Walkman? What if they had somebody on stag? It was unlikely, in the middle of nowhere and with us now lost in the jungle, but still, I couldn't take the chance of a compromise so far from the house. The aim was to get all of us out of here, not go the best of three falls with someone in a helicopter.

As I crested the high ground, I saw the glimmer of light from the single bulb burning away in the shower area. There was no other lighting, nothing from Luz's bedroom, or Carrie and Aaron's. I certainly couldn't tell if our escape window was still open or not, and I didn't intend getting close enough to that side of the house to find out. Why bother? It was wasting time. I'd go to the side where I knew there was an entry point that would definitely get me in.

I moved back down the slope and, avoiding the helicopter, made my way round to the other side of the house as more thunder rumbled above. Picking my way through the mud, eventually moving up to the left of the house, I crested the high ground again. The shower-area light was now to my right, still trying to penetrate the curtain of rain.

Approaching the tubs, I became aware of the chug of the generator, and at that point got on to my hands and knees and began to crawl. The mud felt warm and lumpy on my bare skin, almost soothing the itchy swellings on my stomach.

The chug was soon drowned out by the rain beating on the lids of the plastic tubs. There were no signs of life from the house, and it wasn't until I drew level with the storeroom that I could just make out a thin sliver of light coming from beneath the door. I kept moving, and eventually saw a dull yellow glow filtering through the mozzie screen on the window between the bookshelves, but no movement inside.

There was no need to crawl any more as I got to the end of the tubs and drew level with the veranda and wagons. Covered in mud, I stood up and moved cautiously towards them.

I headed for the Land Cruiser, now pointing towards the track through the woods, rain hammering on its body work I stood off to the side and could see movement inside the house, though from this distance they wouldn't be able to see me.

"Lurking', standing in the shadows and watching, was a skill I'd learnt as a young squaddie in Northern Ireland, during long hours on foot patrol in Republican housing estates. We'd watch people eat their dinners, do the ironing, have s.e.x.

Through the haze of rain and screens I could see the fans still spinning by the armchairs, which were empty. Three guys were sitting at the kitchen table, all dark-skinned and dark-haired, one with a beard. Weapons lay on the floor. Two of the guys wore chest harnesses. All of them were smoking, and seemed to be having a sober conversation. They were probably trying to make up the story of how we'd managed to get away.

There was no sign of Aaron.

I checked Baby-G as I blew out the water that ran down my face and into my mouth. Less than ninety minutes to go before they discovered he knew jack s.h.i.t.

I moved off to the right so I could get an angle through the front entrance and see the bedroom doors. Both were closed. He was either in one of them, or inside the computer room; I'd find that out soon, but the priority was to check if the Mosin Nagant or M-16 were still in the Land Cruiser. There had been no light, no movement or steamed-up windows in any of the three wagons. It was safe to approach.

I wiped the water from the side windows and checked inside. No sign of either weapon or gollock, not that I could see much in the dark. It was a long shot, but I'd have been making a basic error if I hadn't checked.

I went to the rear of the wagon and slowly but firmly pressed the release b.u.t.ton and opened the gla.s.s top section of the rear gate six inches, just enough for the interior lights to come on, then bent down and scanned the luggage area. No weapons, no bergen, no gollock. I pushed the section back down until it hit the first click and killed the lights.

I moved towards the storeroom to take a look through the gap under the door. As I pa.s.sed the bookshelf window, too far from it for the weak light to illuminate me, I saw that all three were still sitting at the table.

The tin roof above me was getting pummelled big-time as I moved in towards the side of the house and stepped up on the concrete foundations of the extension.

The noise drowned anything it might have been useful to hear.

Moving back out into the rain and round the water b.u.t.t, I could now see the light seeping from under the storeroom door. I got back on the concrete and down on my hands and knees, shook my head to get off as much water as I could so it wouldn't run into my eyes, then shoved my right eye against the gap.

I saw Aaron at once, sitting in one of the director's chairs under the glare of the computer-room strip lighting. A man, maybe mid-forties, in a green shirt and with no chest harness or weapon visible, was sitting next to him in the other canvas chair, in the act of offering him a cigarette, which he took.

Beyond them, sitting at Luz's computer and with his back to me, was a younger man, in blue, with long hair tied in a ponytail like Aaron's, except his was still black. I guessed by the primary colours darting about the screen and the frenzied movement of the mouse that he was playing a game. An M-16 was resting against the table beside him.

I looked back at Aaron. His nose was bloodied and his eyes swollen, and the right one had blood leaking from it. But he was smiling at the green guy, maybe feeling happy with himself that he'd got us away. I was glad he didn't know what had happened since.

By now the cigarette had been lit and he took long, grateful drags. Green Guy got up and said something to Blue, who didn't bother to turn from the game, just raising his free hand instead as Green Guy went into the living room to join the other three.

Right, so there were at least five of them, and there might be more in the bedrooms. What now?

I lay on the concrete and watched the inactivity for a few minutes as Aaron enjoyed his cigarette, taking it from his mouth, examining it between his thumb and forefinger, exhaling through his nose. I was trying to come up with something that would get me Aaron and one of those weapons.

Taking the final drag, he turned on his chair to look at Blue playing Luz's game, then he ground the dog-end into the concrete.

s.h.i.t! What's he up to?

I leapt back and scrambled behind the water b.u.t.t just as the door burst open and light flooded the area. Aaron launched himself off the concrete into the mud, followed by startled Spanish screams.

As he ran and slithered into the darkness towards the tubs there was a long burst of automatic fire from within the storeroom.