"I think so."

He put his finger to his lips and then pointed to the window. She moved to it as he quickly lay back on the bunk. The door was unlocked and though she was shaking she turned slowly. Danilov entered the cabin. He took in her figure. A quick glance at Dennis who was laying as before.

"Has he woken at all?"

She shook her head.

He nudged Dennis who only groaned, gave a half snore and didn't move again.

"You did hit him really hard," she said stepping towards him. She squeezed his upper arm, feeling his biceps.

"You must be so strong," she said, "I love strong men."

"Eh!"

Danilov wasn't sure he was hearing correctly. He suddenly reached forward and grabbing her around the waist he pulled her towards him. She let out a small squeal. He tried to kiss her but she turned her head. He pressed his face into her hair and smelled it. She pretended to warm to his touch. She managed to look round him, at the bunk. Dennis was watching. Danilov started to turn to see what she was looking at but she pulled his face back, gave him a wink, and dropped to her knees in front of him. He felt her fondling at his zip and he closed his eyes and put his head back. A large grin spread across his mouth as the zip was pulled down fast.

Dennis hit him as hard as he could across the back of the head with the pipe. Danilov's eyes flashed open and he bellowed in pain. Natalie dived out of the way. Stunned and dazed Danilov tried to turn while fumbling for his handgun. Natalie wrestled it off him as Dennis hit him hard again. A strange animal sound was coming from his mouth. Slowly the Russian sank to his knees. Dennis hit him hard for a third time across the back of the head and this time the iron pipe shattered. The big man pitched forward onto his face. His dark blood pumped across the floor of the cabin. He twitched twice and was still. Blood coming from his ears, nose and mouth. Dennis' hands were stinging from the blows. He studied the shattered pipe.

"Is he dead?" Natalie asked.

"I hope so or he's going to be in one hell of a mood when he wakes up."

Natalie suddenly found herself pointing the Glock handgun at the back of the Russian's head. Dennis threw what was left of the pipe still in his hands onto the bed. He saw her hands shaking, holding the, to her, strange weapon.

"Bastard!" she said, "How dare you put your hands on me."

"Go on," Dennis said, "Pull the trigger. Two seconds and it will all be over."

She pointed the pistol harder, the muscles in her arms taut. Then she started sobbing and the gun was lowered. Dennis held her close while she cried into his chest.

"Let it all out," he said soothingly.

"I feel dirty."

She rushed over to the tiny wash basin and turned the tap and frantically began scrubbing her hands.

"Ia.Ia.need to wash my hands," she continued, her tears dripping from her cheeks. Dennis knew how she was feeling.

"Natalie we need to go," he said kindly.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to wash this off."

He took her hands and held them up to her face.

"Look at them," he shook them firmly, "Look at them!"

She took her eyes off his to look at her hands.

"See," he said, "No blood."

"I've never seen anyone killed before."

"Just remember Danilov wouldn't have thought twice about killing you or raping you or killing me. He would have done it with a smirk on his face. Do you agree?"

She looked at the prone body on the floor. Then she felt stupid for her tears.

"Yes I know he would."

"It was him or me."

"Yes."

He grabbed her hand and went for the door.

"Come on," he said, leading the way.

Outside the cabin the corridor was empty. Dennis released the safety catch on the Glock and led her out into the passageway to the end. They paused at the bottom of the stairs. Dennis motioned for her to stay back and he ascended slowly to the next deck. The coast was clear and he waved her up. They waited together at the top of the stairs.

"You know you played your part well, back then I mean, with Danilov. You should have been an actress."

"Who said I was acting."

Now he glared at her. His mouth open. She smiled.

"I'm joking."

"That's a relief!"

For a moment he'd thought she was serious.

"Is the way clear?"

"I think so."

She was about to go first but he stopped her.

"Wait!"

He pulled her back. A door had opened halfway along the corridor. It was a guard coming out of the lavatory. Dennis knew he had to move now or when the door closed they would be seen. The man turned and closed the door and glanced up as Dennis crashed into him. Dennis punched him twice in the face forcing the man around. Dennis grabbed his forehead from behind and pulled him to the ground. The guards head hit the floor with a sickening smack.

"Quick! Help me get him back into the toilet."

Natalie approached slowly.

"Is he dead too?"

Dennis paused. The man's chest was still moving.

"No just unconscious. Get his legs for me."

Together they bundled the inert form into the cramped cubicle. Dennis quickly unbuttoned his own shirt, took off the man's black shirt and put it on. He lifted the strap of the Heckler and Koch MP5 over the guards shoulders and checked it for ammunition. It was a full clip. He took the Glock out of his pocket.

"Do you know how to use one of these."

She was absolutely terrified but knew she had no choice but to take it.

"If you need to fire it just release this," Dennis demonstrated by releasing the safety catch, "point it and pull the trigger. The recoil will snap your hand and arm back so use both hands ok."

"No."

"You'll be fine."

He crammed the guard's black cap down onto his head.

"This should fool them long enough for me to act if we're caught."

He closed the toilet door and made for the stairs.

"We need to get to the top deck to use your phone. Stay close to me."

They sprinted up the steps to the next level. Natalie keeping as close to him as she could. Terrified as she was she couldn't help smiling at the rush of adrenalin. She felt safe with Dennis, she knew he'd get them out of this somehow.

They made it to the top deck and huddled out of sight. Dennis took her phone from her. The screen was still showing no signal. He tried calling out but it was still jammed. A quick glance from cover revealed that all attention from the 'Wavecrest' crew was focused on the sarcophagus which was being covered with a tarpaulin ready for its long journey to wherever Von Werner was taking it. Dennis checked again and seeing no one was near he grabbed Natalie's hand and ran out into the open making for the nearest containers and cover. They stopped dead in their tracks as two Tunisian fighter planes screamed past on the starboard side. The noise was deafening. Everyone on the 'Wavecrest' had stopped what they were doing to watch them. The Lynx helicopter was halfway between the two ships carrying a crate of the artillery shells. As the noise from the planes receded the sound of a siren drifted across the water. Tunisian navy gunboats were heading towards them. Behind the boats the port of Gabes.

An anguished roar of pain came from behind Natalie and Dennis. They spun around. Danilov was in the doorway, blood covering half his face. Dennis raised the MP5 but Danilov fired first. The G36 spluttering once. The bullet caught Dennis high in the right arm, spinning him and throwing him to the deck. The MP5 clattering out of reach.

"Peter!" Natalie screamed.

She started to run to him but Danilov caught her in two strides. He threw his machine gun down and slapped her hard across the face stunning her. She fell to the deck. Dennis looked up at the bright blue sky. High overhead seagulls were circling. He turned his head. The bullet had scraped his arm. There was a little blood, nothing more. But it burned. Then he saw Natalie's head bounce off the deck. A low growl escaped his lips. Like an automaton he got to his feet. He rushed at Danilov and hammered blows into the big man's ribs and face. He succeeded in making the Russian stagger back a step or two. Then Danilov stood his ground and smashed his fist into the English man's face. Dennis was sent flying. Danilov hawked and spat blood. The pain in his head was excruciating. He rushed at Dennis and catching hold of him by the shirt he picked him up and threw him fifteen feet across the deck. There could be no doubt now. This fight was to the death. Danilov wouldn't stop now until Dennis was dead. Of that the journalist was sure.

Von Werner's attention had been taken up by the approaching Navy boats. One of his men tapped him on the shoulder.

"Eh?"

Von Werner turned and now saw the fight. He saw the girl laying on the deck also watching. Danilov stomped to where Dennis lay and picking the Englishman up again he punched him in the face. A stream of spittle and blood splashed the deck from Dennis' mouth. Danilov threw him across the deck again and followed closely behind. This time he kicked Dennis in his previously injured ribs. Dennis did a barrel roll, now he was winded. Danilov kicked him again and again and again. Finally Dennis ended up on his back retching and coughing up blood.

Some of Von Werner's men started to run towards the combatants but he put up a hand and stopped them.

"Wait!" he shouted.

It wouldn't take Danilov long now to kill the lesser man and Von Werner smiled. Danilov was mocking Dennis. The cat that toys the mouse. He was taunting him though they were too far away for Von Werner to hear the words.

Dennis, on his knees, was very slowly getting to his feet. Danilov picked him up in both hands by the neck and began strangling him. Dennis, already winded, couldn't breathe and he felt himself fading fast. He summoned up the last reserves of his strength and tried to tear away the hands that were throttling him but Danilov was too strong. Then in a last, supreme effort Dennis dug his fingertips into the large gash on the back of the large Russian's head. He dug his fingers in so deep he felt warm blood gush over his hands. Danilov roared with pain and let go. Dennis scrabbled at the Russian's military fatigues as he fell to the deck. Dennis' lungs screamed for breath and he sucked in a large gulp of air with the vital seconds now afforded him. Danilov frantically wiped at the blood, his blood, flowing into his eyes, blinding him. Then he saw his prey and rushed at him, readying the kill. When he was two feet away Dennis suddenly sprang up and thumped him in the chest. Dennis hadn't hit him that hard but Danilov suddenly sensed the blow had hurt him. He tried to pick Dennis up again but suddenly found he couldn't move his left arm. His breath was now coming in short gasps. He tried to take a deep breath and felt fire in his throat. He saw his opponent slowly stand in front of him, suddenly unafraid of him. A look of puzzlement crossed the Russian's brow. He felt tired, more tired than he ever had been before. A series of short pains racked his chest. He was having trouble breathing. He looked down and saw the hilt of the knife, his knife, sticking out of his chest. For the first time in his life he felt very afraid. He knew the knife had pierced his heart. Knew he was dying. He reached out a hand to Dennis.

"Help me please," he said, his words faltering.

Dennis smirked at him then took a step back and placed a well aimed kick catching Danilov right between the legs. The huge Russian grunted and crashed to his knees. His eyes rolled upwards in his head and he pitched forward onto his face, driving the six inch blade deeper into his heart.

Dennis spat on the body.

"Go fuck yourself!"

He heard Natalie sob once and holding his ribs he limped over to her and helped her up. The sound of someone clapping slowly made them turn. Von Werner was twenty paces away, his handgun levelled at them. Slowly he came on.

"What am I to do with you?"

He nodded as he passed the Russian's corpse.

"Ah I see you have killed Danilov for me."

"For you?" Dennis enquired.

"Why yes. You see Danilov has a rather large bounty on his head. I of course intended to collect it after my business here was done."

Dennis was confused.

"I thought Danilov was your right hand man."

"Oh he was. But you see my dear Mr Dennis he was becoming quite uncontrollable. He was what you English would call a, uh, yes, a loose cannon."

He chuckled at his own humour.

"Yes I like that expression. You English are full of these sayings."

"There's another expression we're fond of and you're full of it."

Von Werner pretended to be amused at this also.

"That's very good Mr Dennis. Very good indeed. But as I was saying Danilov wasn't working as a member of the team anymore. He acted against my instructions on more than one occasion and my men were unsettled."

"Well in about five minutes time your men are going to be arrested by Tunisian special forces."

"Oh really. Is that so? And exactly who do you think called the security services?"

Dennis thought for a moment. He had assumed that Ali on the *Volante' had somehow got a signal out. Not for one second did he consider that Von Werner may have called them.

"You did it?"

Von Werner chuckled.

"I'm enjoying this," he said, "That's right Mr Dennis I called them."

He threw his arms out in a gesture.

"After all why wouldn't I. This is my ship, my crew, my personal army, my helicopter, my sarcophagus. So you can imagine my surprise at finding my head of security murdered by a journalist, a spy, a mercenary, call yourself what you will, and an archaeologist stowed aboard my ship trying to steal my property."

"They'll never believe it."