"Is there a problem?" Jahni asked, as Madari waved him to a chair in the meeting room. "I see you've scheduled meetings with all the men who were on the mission."

"I just wanted to go over each of your reports and clarify some details," Madari said. "So we can work out where we need to do better next time."

Jahni smiled and stretched his legs out under the table. Better? That would be difficult. "We couldn't do much better than we did." He grinned and leaned back in his chair.

"No," Madari said. He frowned and Jahni straightened up and put on a serious expression. He'd had plenty of sleep and a couple of days of rest, and he and the men were milking their triumph for all it was worth, so he felt good. But his mood started to deflate. Madari had a grim look. They hadn't had much time alone together the last couple of days, and Jahni wondered if there was something wrong, something worrying him about the mission. His eyes were more dark-circled than usual. Sleeping worse than usual?

"Something is wrong."

"Kahil, what do you think of the men we fight?"

"What do I think of them?" Jahni hadn't expected that question. He thought about it for a moment. "Well, they're fanatics. Deluded."

"Would you say they are irrational?"

"You mean, crazy? Hell yes, they must be! Who the hell thinks hijacking a plane ever works? Who blows themselves up? Can't they figure out how to work a timer?" He snorted with contempt.

"They think it makes them martyrs," Madari said quietly.

"Who wants to be a martyr?" Jahni looked back at Madari, who was watching him carefully. "Is this about that piece in the Sunrise? That man doesn't know what he's talking about. We don't use excessive force." Anger rose inside Jahni. How dare that idiot question the unit, question Madari? "We used just the right amount of force, the right amount to kill those animals and save the hostages."

"Animals?"

"Did I say animals? I meant monsters."

"Monsters?"

"What else do you call someone who threatens to kill women and children?" He looked down when he saw a flash of old pain in Madari's eyes and knew he was thinking of Faraj.

"Kahil, these terrorists... they are men like you and me." Madari said, his voice soft, making Jahni look up. "I know their actions and motivations are hard to understand. But many people would have considered our actions and motivations extreme, during the guerilla campaign."

"We weren't terrorists. We never attacked civilians."

"Nevertheless. I want you to think about what the terrorists believe in, what they are fighting for. I want you to try to understand them."

Jahni scowled at that. "If any of us can't understand them, it's me."

"Then you need to try harder." He raised a hand to cut off Jahni's protest. "I'm not asking you to sympathise with their actions, or their cause, or the men themselves. But if you go into combat thinking of the man you'll be fighting as a demon rather than a human, however irrational you think he is, then you are acting on... wrong information."

"I'm not sure I understand."

Madari sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Kahil, people are often unpredictable. But the more we understand them, the more we can predict what they'll do, would you agree?"

"I suppose."

"So if you think of someone as inhuman you won't expect human behaviour and human reactions from him. You won't be able to predict him."

Jahni stayed silent, thinking about that for a moment. "So..." he said at last. "You're saying 'know your enemy'."

"Exactly!" Madari smiled. "Exactly right. And that doesn't just mean intelligence about his location or his weapons. You must know what he wants, why he wants it and what he'll do to get it, before you can predict what he'll do next."

Jahni nodded and looked down at this own hands in his lap, the fingers twisted together, tense. He hadn't noticed he'd been doing that. After a while, he spoke quietly.

"Are you unhappy with my work?"

"Your work is outstanding, Kahil. Nobody can argue with the success of the mission."

Certainly not any of the men I killed, Jahni thought. Was Madari right? Did Jahni think of them as nothing but... creatures, demons, mindless evil things that he had to destroy. And he felt nothing afterwards. No guilt. No sense he'd done anything wrong in ending their lives.

"Kahil," Madari went on after a moment. "You're not the only man who's said these things to me, so please don't think I'm... singling you out. But I think we need to work on a change in attitude."

Jahni took a deep breath and raised his head, trying to get a professional, serious look back on his face, masking the worry he felt now. Madari was displeased with his work. That was clear. And that couldn't be borne. What else did Jahni have but his work?

"Yes, sir. I'll think about it."

"Good." Madari looked happier, relieved. "I have more of the men to see. We'll have a meeting about this in a couple of days." He glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Well, I have an appointment on the firing range. Do you have to be somewhere at the moment, or will you join me?"

Jahni had some paperwork he should be doing, but right now, shooting things sounded much more appealing.

~~~~

Even a good long session of target practice hadn't helped much. Back when he'd first become a soldier, first learnt to shoot, those paper targets had, in his mind, taken on the faces of real people and he'd felt so much fear about the day he'd have to fire at a man.

Well, he'd finally done that, in the guerrilla campaign, and since then he'd killed again and again. And he hadn't counted. He'd never counted. He still recalled that first one, on the road, while he held back the patrol, giving Madari and the others time to finish wiring that bridge to explode. But eventually, they'd started to blur. Never counted them.

As he put bullet after bullet into the paper target, he no longer saw the face of a real man there. No, what worried him now was that when shooting those hijackers he'd seen no more than 'targets' and not men.

"Get me another one," Jahni said to the bartender, in the hotel bar at the Az-Ma'ir Hilton. He pushed his glass across, towards the man, who gave him a questioning look.

What? You have a problem? He wanted to ask, but he stayed quiet. Almost two o'clock now, and he and the barmen were the only people in here. A few people had come and gone. Women included. The women he'd come to try and pick one out from and forget his pain for a few hours.

But somehow, he'd let them all pass by. Even when one approached and tried to talk to him, he barely responded and she lost interest and left again. He wanted it, those feelings that drowned the senses, drowned the mind in pleasure. Yet, he couldn't reach out for it. He couldn't do anything, but sit here and stare into a glass that he'd emptied too many times. He emptied it again now, with one long gulp, vodka burning his throat, and pushed the glass across the bar again. Might as well find a different type of oblivion.

"Kahil," the barman said, making Jahni look at him with surprise. Had he been in here so often that the barmen had learnt his name now? That couldn't be good. "You should probably be getting home now."

Jahni shook his head. Back to his neat, sterile little flat and his cold bed.

"I'm closing now, I can't serve you any more."

"Fine. Find some place that will." He stepped off the high bar stool and almost fell over. Ah, lost count of the number of drinks too. Number of drinks. Number of kills. Can't keep count of anything.

Someone took his arm. A large man who had to be a bouncer.

"Put him in a taxi, Asad," the barman said. "He's no trouble, just drowning his sorrows I think."

Who says I'm no trouble? Jahni thought. I'm big trouble. He scowled at Asad. Kick your ass, pal. I'm SAS. I... just might have to have a short lie down first.

The bouncer walked Jahni outside, and a doormen whistled up a taxi that stood waiting nearby.

"What's your address, friend?" Asad said, opening the taxi door and helping Jahni inside. "Where do you want to go?"

Jahni mumbled enough address at him for Asad to pass that on to the driver. There was a brief exchange between them, but the chill night air had gone straight to Jahni's head, and he lay on the back seat of the car, the darkness and the lights spinning in slow circles around his head. The taxi moved off.

"You aren't going to throw up back there are you?"

Jahni would have answered, but his eyes closed and he went to sleep.

~~~~

"Wake up."

Jahni pushed himself up from where he'd been lying face down on the seat.

"What?" he said, muzzily.

"We're here. Time to get out."

Jahni peered out of the taxi window. It seemed very dark out there. Were the street lights out? He reached for his wallet and extracted some notes, the usual amount, he thought. The driver laughed.

"It's a little more than that, mister."

"What?" Jahni's eyes focused now, enough to see that they were not in front of the iron gate that led to his apartment block, but rather outside a pair of high wooden gates, which he recognised at once.

Madari's house.

What the hell?

"This isn't where I live."

"This is the address you gave. Hurry up. I need to get back to the city."

Still staring up at the gates in front of the taxi, Jahni handed over notes until the driver seemed satisfied, then he climbed out of the car. At once, it reversed, swung around and turned back towards Az-Ma'ir, leaving Jahni baffled. After a second he also realised it was leaving him stranded. He shouldn't have let the taxi go, he should have had it take him back to the city, to his own address this time.

Why the hell had he given Madari's address?

Now what? He couldn't ring the bell and disturb Madari at this hour - a glance at his watch told him it was well after three now. For one thing he'd have to explain what he was doing here and he wasn't sure he could.

I gave the driver this address?

Well what did he do? A glance at his wallet told him he didn't have enough cash to get a taxi back to the city, even if he could somehow get one to come out here and pick him up.

A bus came through the village at around seven in the morning, he knew, heading to the city. But what was he meant to do until seven o'clock? Sleep on the side of the road? And then the village constable would find him when he made his early patrol, and that would get back to Madari for sure. Well, Jahni being here and getting on that bus would get back to Madari, whatever happened. No secrets in a small village like this. Plenty of the residents knew Jahni.

What the hell did he do? Climb the wall and sleep in the damn stable? Why the hell had he given this address?

"Who's out there?"

Madari's voice made him gasp, coming from behind the gate. Part of him wanted to run, not wanting Madari to see him like this. But before he could move, one of the gates opened, revealing Madari standing there, in a long shirt and pyjama trousers. He held a pistol loosely in his hand.

"I said who's out..." He stopped and stared. "Kahil? What are you doing here?" He looked past Jahni, perhaps expecting to see a car, or helicopter come to rush him to a mission. "Is something wrong?"

"It... it was a mix-up," Jahni said. "With a taxi. Um... wrong address."

"Are you all right?" He took Jahni's arm, prompting him to unfreeze and come inside. "You don't look well. Come on, get in the house." They hurried inside and Madari found a throw from one of the sofas and draped it over Jahni's shoulders. "You're freezing cold. Do you want some tea?"

"Thanks."

He followed Madari to the kitchen and sat at the table while Madari bustled around.

"How did you know I was there?"

"The noise of the car woke me. You know, I should have a peep hole drilled in the gates, so I can check who's out there."

"Good idea." They both had enemies. "I'm sorry I woke you up." He wasn't sorry. Deep inside he knew why he was here.

"It's okay." Madari brought cups to the table while the kettle started to gurgle on the stove. "Tell me what's wrong, Kahil, please. You're... I can smell drink on you."

"I know. I'm a bit pissed. I'm sorry, I know you don't like that. Sometimes, it feels like the only way."

"Only way to what? What are you trying to block out?"

"The fact that you think I'm a monster."

"What?" Madari stared at him, and sat in the other chair. Jahni bit his lip, shame filled him for saying something so stupid. Yet he knew it was true.

"It's what you think, isn't it? And you're right. I'm the monster, not the terrorists. They at least have faith in something. They believe in something. They might be deluded, but at least they do what they do for a reason."

"So do you, Kahil, you fight against terrorism and oppression. I know you have no religious faith left. But you have my faith. I believe you have a soul."

"I don't deserve your faith."

He wanted to weep. The urge to overwhelmed him suddenly and if he'd been alone, perhaps he'd have given in to the urge. But not here, not with this man who relied on him to be strong. Perhaps it was the drink, making him so out of control, he didn't know. He stood abruptly.

"I should go."

"Go where? Are you going to walk back to the city?"

"I don't know. I shouldn't be here."

"Kahil, I'll drive you home if you want. But you're welcome to stay."

Jahni looked at him for a moment, his face deeply shadowed, the only light coming from a small strip light over the kitchen workbench.

"Is that what you want, Faris?"

"I... just want..." The kettle started to whistle on the stove and he turned away to rescue it.

That urge washed over Jahni again, and his eyes grew hot. He swallowed a lump in his throat and walked out of the kitchen, unable to stay suddenly. Unable to be so close to Madari without saying something. Without saying exactly why he was here.

Madari caught up to him a moment later, catching his arm and swinging him around. With the light of only one lamp, across the room, they stared at each other.

"Talk to me, Kahil!" Madari demanded, his voice equal parts frustration and distress. "Tell me what's wrong, tell me why you're here."

"You know why I'm here! You know what I feel!"

Madari took a step back, a nervous look on his face. "Then... then perhaps you should leave."

"No!" Jahni cried out. "I can't go. I can't go back to doing this day after day. Swallowing it down, pretending it's not real. I can't take it any more, Faris! Never saying what I feel. Never being who I am."

Madari stepped forward again, touched Jahni's shoulders.

"You can say anything to me, Kahil, anything."

"I can't. Because if I do, then you have to do something about it, and you can't. Neither of us can do anything about it, we're trapped!" And now a few tears did escape and he dashed them away in a fury, despising the weakness they represented.

"It's all right," Madari said, squeezing his shoulder. "Let it out." That same tone he'd used when he'd held Jahni and let him weep for his family. Could he give in to that again, let Madari comfort him like that? No. He wasn't the same man as he was then. That Jahni seemed almost like a child to him now. So naïve. So simple. Just a child.

"Do you think I killed those terrorists out of anger?" Jahni asked. "Out of revenge?"

"Did you?"

"No! They meant nothing to me. Killing them seems like... like mercy. They're dead. They're at peace. They can't ever feel the pain I feel now." His voice choked off, somehow he went on. "I envy them that peace! I envy them."

Madari's face turned to real horror and fear then, and Jahni despised himself for giving him that pain. Selfish, so selfish. He carries such a heavy burden of his own pain, he doesn't need mine too. Jahni buried his face in his hands. And at once Madari's arms were around his shoulders pulling him close.

"Let it out," Madari whispered. "I'm here. I'll always be here to listen." He stroked Jahni's back in long soothing strokes. He learnt that from me, Jahni thought.

For a long moment they stood there like that, Jahni trying to calm the churning pain and rage and fear inside him, choking down the sobs that still tried to escape him. But Madari's arms around him and the hand stroking his back did have an effect, though perhaps the effect not quite the one Madari would want to provoke.

Jahni took his hands away from his face and looked into Madari's eyes. He saw relief there, as Jahni's distress receded.

"You want me to let out my real feelings, Faris?" His arms were pressed between them, but he slid them out and around Madari's waist.

"Kahil..."

"These are my real feelings."

He leaned in and kissed Madari on the lips.

So much less frantic than that first time, what they still called The Incident. Yet as much passion, he felt sure. Madari responded at once, though not the way Jahni would have liked. He kept his mouth closed and after a moment, pulled his head back.

"We can't." It wasn't a very heartfelt protest. More like a heartbroken one. He wanted to, Jahni knew, and everything inside and outside of himself told him he can't do it, just as it told Jahni. But tonight, he wanted to be deaf to those voices.

"Yes, we can," Jahni said. "We can do anything. Because this is only a dream."

Madari's eyes widened at Jahni's words. "A dream?"

"Of course. What would I be doing here at this time of the morning? That's ridiculous. So it must be a dream."

He leaned close again and Madari allowed the kiss. Jahni broke it himself this time and he spoke again, voice soft. The voice.

"And in the morning, I'll be gone. And of course, you'll never mention it to me. Why would you? It's only a dream after all."

"A man can't be condemned for his dreams, can he?" Madari spoke softly, almost to himself.

"Of course not." This time the kiss started from both men at once. A dead heat of passion. It sealed the deal they just made, Jahni knew. If tonight is the only time, Jahni thought, if he had to be a little drunk to break the restraints on him, then he must accept that.

He moved one hand up to stroke through Madari's hair, caressing him. Madari gave a small sigh, and pulled Jahni closer, arms tight around him now, bodies pressed close and...

Jahni gasped and stepped back, two steps, breaking free of Madari's arms. He'd felt... Madari was... aroused... For a second, he'd felt the hardness press against him.

Well of course he's aroused, you fool, he thought. That's what you want, isn't it?

Isn't it?

"Kahil..." Madari said, then put a hand to his mouth. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have." And he turned and almost ran, heading for the bedrooms.

"Faris... wait." But he didn't wait. In a second, the door banged shut, leaving Jahni staring after him.

If this was a dream, they just woke up.

~~~~

Madari groaned and put his head in his hands, the shame almost overwhelming him. How could he have been so crude? How could he have lost control like that?

But Jahni had been offering sex, hadn't he? What else could he have meant? Unless Madari had misunderstood entirely, and made a complete fool of himself, and shocked and perhaps disgusted Jahni.

Ask him, he told himself. Go back out there and ask him what he meant. But if he did, and Jahni said that Madari had misunderstood, what then. Humiliation. Embarrassment. God, they'd never be able to look each other in the eyes again.

No, he couldn't have misunderstood. They were kissing! Jahni initiated it, he said the kisses expressed his true feelings. Had Madari simply moved too fast? Gone further than Jahni was ready for? Perhaps. Perhaps that meant he needed to apologise.

But if he went out there again... or if Jahni came in here... That could lead only to something very wrong happening. He couldn't allow that.

He'd been ready to allow it. What Jahni said, about lying to themselves, pretending this was a dream... for a moment that had tempted Madari and he'd lost control. He would have gone on and it would have happened, but for Jahni suddenly pulling back.

Perhaps Jahni had simply come to his senses. Even though he'd initiated it, perhaps he'd realised the danger before it was too late to stop.

Madari stood and walked to the closed door. He laid a hand flat against the wood. Where was Jahni now? Still in the living room? Or perhaps only inches away, on the other side of this door, trying to bring himself to knock and come in. He hadn't left the house, Madari felt sure of that. He hadn't heard the front door close.

So he was out there, inches or yards away, but there, and perhaps regretting pulling away from Madari, and perhaps if they talked again, they could decide again to let that dream happen. He'd be slower, more careful this time, Madari pledged, not shock him with such a crude advance.

He reached slowly for the doorknob. His hand rested on it for a moment. If he opened this door and Jahni stood there, waiting...

His hand moved, to the key in the lock below the handle. He turned the key and heard the click that told him the door was locked. He didn't fear Jahni. Jahni would die rather than hurt him.

He feared himself.

Give in to that dream and our lives will become a nightmare.