Every night now. Every night. Days were better than they had been. He'd not had a flashback in months. In the days he could be strong, the strong leader the men needed. But every night the darkness took him.

Tonight, like all the others, he woke clawing his way into the light, grabbing at the only thing that comforted him.

Kahil. Clung to him, shaking. Talk to me. Talk, just talk.

Jahni talked. His words had little meaning, just words of comfort, soothing. The voice was what mattered, as always.

As the nightmare faded, Madari lay back on his bed, looking up at Jahni who sat at his side, bending over him. He left one hand resting in Jahni's. Still needed the warmth of that presence.

How can he follow me? When he sees me like this in the night? So weak, so afraid. Yet he follows me into battle. Why would he trust me?

The room felt too hot, stifling him.

"I need air."

"Should I open a window?"

"No. Outside."

Jahni stood up and stepped back to give Madari room to swing his feet off the bed and sit up. Madari pulled a thoub over his head, stood up to shake it out and slipped his feet into sandals. Jahni was already fully dressed, he'd been on guard duty. Every night now, he stood guard at Madari's door. Waiting for the screams.

Brushing his hands through his hair, trying to shake away the darkness, Madari walked out of the room. Jahni followed him and they emerged a moment later from the guardhouse into the yard.

In the quiet of the night, the footsteps of the guards sounded clearly. As they stepped outside, they met Faraj, who stood at the guardhouse door that night.

"Sir. Lieutenant. Is everything all right?"

How pale am I? Madari wondered, seeing the concern in Faraj's eyes. Did he hear me crying out?

"Yes, thank you, Captain. I just need some air."

"Sir." Faraj stood aside and let them pass.

The night air hit his skin and Madari shivered. The summer had passed, bringing autumn nights distinctly colder than the summer ones. He walked across the yard, heading for the same place he always headed to when he came out here at night.

The east wire, outside of which lay the camp's graveyard. When he reached it, he held the wire with one hand, rested his forehead on the back of his hand and looked at the graves.

A month now, since the battle and the deaths of so many of his men. And since the nightmares became worse. He didn't dream of the battle though, at least not often. His interrogation still haunted his nightmares and he sometimes felt guilty about that. Shouldn't he have nightmares about the loss of his men?

Perhaps training made the difference. Training and experience. Combat, he'd faced before, had lost friends, men under his command. But nothing had prepared him for what they did to him in the basement of the Security Police HQ.

After a moment, he felt Jahni's hand touch his own and let their hands join before turning his head to look at Jahni, who stood quietly at his side, his gaze on Madari's face. He's been looking at me all the time, not at the graves, Madari knew for sure.

"Kahil." He paused. He'd been thinking of saying this for several days now, but was afraid to. Afraid Jahni would actually say 'yes'. "Kahil, it's been some time now, and you've still not gone to see your family's graves. Perhaps it is time you went?"

Jahni looked away, over the dark, cold desert.

"Would you come with me?"

The question took Madari by surprise. "I couldn't really, no. I need to be here."

"I know." Jahni turned back to him. "I don't want to go. I don't need to go. They're dead. I don't need to see their graves to know that."

"No, but... it might help you."

He worried about Jahni, about the darkness he saw growing inside him, since the day he found out. Had he even wept for them since then? Or did he concentrate only on avenging them? Could a man live for revenge and keep his soul?

"I doubt it." Jahni turned away again. "Later. When this is done. When it's over. Then I'll go. Until then." His voice dropped low. "Until then you know where I belong."

Madari smiled, only a small smile. Of course, Jahni didn't only live for revenge. He lived to protect Madari. Perhaps his soul wasn't in quite as much danger as Madari feared.

"I could not ask for a better guardian." He gave Jahni's hand a squeeze, but Jahni didn't turn back to him, still gazed over the desert. His jaw tightened, but he didn't speak. Madari turned to look again at the graves and they stood silent, hands still interlocked.

"I think I can sleep now," Madari said, eventually, making Jahni turn to him. In the moonlight, Madari could see the dark circles under his eyes. He's as tired as I am, he realised. They began to walk back to the guardhouse.

"Kahil, you are guarding my door every night now?"

"Yes." Jahni confirmed.

"You need rest. You need to let others guard the door."

"I can rest during the day," Jahni said with a small shrug.

Madari shook his head. Not satisfactory and not fair.

"You need proper sleep."

"So do you. And you say you sleep better if it's me there to help you."

Madari couldn't deny this. But when he woke from his nightmares and Jahni comforted him he usually went back to sleep quickly. What did Jahni do?

They arrived at the guardhouse door, where Faraj still stood, watching them approach, still wearing that concerned frown. As Madari let go of Jahni's hand, to go through the door, he nodded goodnight to Faraj.

At the door to his room, Madari stopped and turned to Jahni.

"I can't let you overwork yourself this way, Kahil. You will make yourself ill. I insist you reinstitute your rota for guard duty. I can... I can manage." The last part did not sound convincing.

Jahni looked at him for a while then spoke.

"I have an idea."

 
~~~~
 

"Javid, I need to talk to you."

Noor looked up from the maps he bent over, to find Faraj looking at him with a worried expression. He smiled.

"Of course, Idris."

"Not here." Faraj looked around the room that had been the officer's mess in the guardhouse and had long ago been turned into a planning and briefing room. A couple of other men were working there. "I need to show you something."

He turned and walked out. Noor followed him, wondering what Faraj had a bee in his bonnet about now. The taller man's long strides took him ahead of Noor and meant Faraj stood waiting, tapping his foot, at the door to Madari's office, by the time Noor caught up to him.

Faraj knocked on the office door, and then peered inside and went in. Noor followed him to find the office empty. To Noor's surprise, Faraj went on through into the small sitting room off the office. He shrugged and followed. Faraj checked the bedroom and bathroom before coming back to Noor. Wordlessly he pointed at the wall beside the bedroom door.

A cot stood there, some blankets folded on top of it, a box of belongings sat underneath it.

"That's Jahni's," Faraj said.

"What?" Noor said, frowning. "He's moved his cot in here? Why?"

"To help the major at night, apparently. With his nightmares."

Noor nodded. He'd noticed Jahni doing guard duty every night for the past few weeks, and looking more and more tired. At least this way he'd be close by to help Madari, but he'd get his rest too. He turned to look at Faraj, who stood with his arms folded, scowling at the cot.

"Something wrong, Idris?"

Faraj turned and stared at him.

"You don't think it... strange for Jahni to move into the major's sleeping quarters?"

"Well, it's not quite his sleeping quarters, is it? It's not actually the bedroom. I mean this room is –"

"Are you being deliberately obtuse?" Faraj demanded.

Noor's fists clenched briefly and he bristled.

"I don't appreciate your tone, Captain."

Faraj took a small step back, but he didn't apologise and his tone didn't change much.

"You have to admit people may find it odd."

"We're in a pretty odd situation, Idris. You know the major's problems, you know Jahni has a connection with him, can help him."

"And you really think that there's nothing else to it?" An edge of sarcasm in his voice angered Noor.

"You've known the major for many years. I'm shocked that you would imply such a thing."

Faraj turned away, stood looking out of the window, arms folded. Noor watched him. Faraj had known Madari for many years, many more than Noor. Perhaps he knew the man better. Perhaps something he'd seen in those long years gave him good reasons for his suspicions.

No. Noor refused to believe there could be any truth to the insinuation. Certainly, Madari and Jahni had a strong connection, but they were only friends. Noor had seen Madari in the grip of a nightmare, a horrible sight and he could only imagine the terror Madari felt. No wonder he clung so tight to the man who could help him get back into the light quicker than anyone else.

Still, they had all been here many months now, years in fact, when he added in their prison time before that. And in all that time, the only women they had seen were the Bedouin women at Halais's settlement, who Madari had made it very clear were strictly 'off limits.' Sexual frustration could break down a man's usual moral code. Frustration and... temptation? No one could deny Jahni's good looks.

Oh, ridiculous, he chided himself. The major would never do anything to compromise himself that way.

"Last night," Faraj said. "They were walking in the yard. Holding hands."

Noor frowned. "So?" Faraj didn't answer. Noor laughed, suddenly understanding. "Idris, you spent too long in England!" Prep school, Eton, Cambridge, Sandhurst. He'd have had the practice of holding another boy's hand knocked out of him pretty quick. Any time Noor had tried to take Faraj's hand he'd found it disengaged as quickly as politeness allowed.

"You're an Arab, not an Englishman, Idris. So are they. If that's all that makes you suspicious, I think you need to go and think about where we are and who we are."

Faraj turned to look at him.

"Do you really think if that was the only thing that made me suspicious that I would have said any of this to you?" He sighed and shook his head, looking at the floor. "If you don't want to believe me I can't make you. But believe this." He looked up. "This so-called 'friendship' puts the major in more danger than any of the missions we've been on. If you refuse to see that, you are failing in your duty as second in command."

"A position you think you should occupy, perhaps?" Noor couldn't help the words, snapping them out quickly and regretting them at once. Faraj didn't rise to the bait though. He shook his head, bit his lip and then turned on his heel and walked out.

As the door closed behind Faraj, Noor walked over to Jahni's cot and looked down at it. Faraj couldn't be right. Madari was their leader and, Noor believed, a great man. A man of destiny. Such men often had a close friend, a confidant, who they could show their heart to. One man they didn't have to put on a show for. That was entirely natural. Normal. Of course, there could be a danger of people misinterpreting such a relationship, but in this case, any suspicions were groundless. Noor felt certain of that. Quite certain. Almost certain.

Perhaps he should talk to... Well Jahni, not Madari. He glanced at his watch. When Jahni returned from his recon mission.

 
~~~~
 

Reconnaissance missions bored Jahni. To watch and take notes, while his trigger finger itched and his pistol sat cold and idle in its holster, frustrated him.

But with their mission completed, the small team he led were driving back to the camp, by a long and roundabout route as usual. He sat in the back and dozed while the two men with him, both civilians, named Sabri and Rehm, talked quietly to each other. Sabri drove the car, which seemed to chase its own shadow along the road, as the sun sank into the west behind them.

"Lieutenant." The nervous edge in Rehm's voice brought Jahni to instant alertness. He stared ahead of them on the road, to see several military vehicles standing parked up and soldiers with rifles ranged across the road.

"A checkpoint." Sabri's voice sounded even more nervous then Rehm's. "Do we...?"

What, crash through it and try to escape? Jahni shook his head. They carried forged ID papers and had a cover story. No need to do anything foolish. They could bluff their way past this.

"Remember the cover story," Jahni said. "We've been to a family wedding. You two are brothers. I'm your cousin. From the better looking side of the family."

His small joke made them relax a little and they slowed and stopped as the checkpoint soldiers flagged them down.

"Smile," Jahni said, quietly as he and Sabri rolled down their windows.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Jahni said as a soldier approached.

"Vehicle check, sir. Switch off the engine."

"Will this take long?" Jahni asked as Sabri did as the soldier ordered. "We've had a long journey; we want to get home before dark." The soldier ignored him and spoke to Sabri again.

"Get out and open the trunk."

The trunk had nothing incriminating in it. Jahni nodded at Sabri in the rear-view mirror. Sabri went to pull the keys out of the ignition.

Movement caught Jahni's eye and he looked over as a man climbed out of a small truck and walked towards the car. Jahni stared and a second later the man caught his gaze, looked him right in the face.

Ghaith.

The big sergeant's jaw dropped and a second later, he grabbed at his pistol.

"Stop them!"

"Go! Drive!" Jahni yelled at Sabri. He pulled out his pistol from under his jacket and fired at the man standing by the car, who had drawn his pistol at Ghaith's order. As the soldier fell, the engine fired and the car leapt forward. Sabri swore as he tried to get it into the right gear. Jahni and Rehm ducked down in their seats as bullets hit the car. Then the engine roared and the car hurtled away.

"Ghaith!" Rehm gasped. "Fuck! Why him? Out of every fucking soldier in the country!"

Jahni looked out of the back window to see jeeps coming after them, gaining fast. Damn, they couldn't outrun those. And firing on them with pistols from a speeding car would be a waste of ammunition. He wished for a rifle, for grenades, anything.

The back window smashed and Jahni ducked down again. Over the roar of their engine, he heard automatic fire and then the inevitable happened. The car slewed around as one of the rear tyres was shot out and exploded. Sabri fought the steering wheel, tried to control the skid, but the rear of the car spun off the paved road and into the sandy earth, turned almost 180 degrees to face their pursuers. The engine coughed and stalled.

"Move!" Rehm cried, sounding terrified as Sabri turned the ignition key. For a second the engine caught, and then the windscreen shattered and Sabri jerked in his seat, before slumping forward over the wheel.

"No!" Rehm cried. Jahni grabbed Sabri's shoulder and pulled him back. Dead.

"Out!" Jahni ordered Rehm. "Use the doors as cover."

Useless, Jahni knew, but he dived out of the door and crouched behind it, firing through the open window. Rehm did the same on his side. The jeeps halted and the soldiers in them jumped out, took cover behind them and fired at the guerrillas.

We'll lose, Jahni knew. There are more of them. They have rifles and more ammo than we do. He'd already used up most of the clip in his pistol. Leaning back inside the car, he reached through to the driver's seat, his hand searching blindly over Sabri's body for his pistol.

Then he gasped, as Rehm cry out and Jahni saw him fall back. He slid back out of the car and dropped to hands and knees, to look underneath. Rehm lay unmoving on the road on the other side of the car, a bright splash of blood under his head.

I'm next, Jahni knew. He couldn't find Sabri's pistol and estimated he had only one round left in his own pistol. The best outcome he could hope for now was that the bullet had Ghaith's name on it.

So he poked his head up over the window and tried to target his old enemy. The bastard who had violated Faraj, and would have killed Jahni, if Madari hadn't stopped him. But he was looking into the dusk and his last shot didn't even come close. The pistol clicked emptily in his hand.

Dropping back down into cover, he pulled his knife out and waited. They'd realise in a moment that he was out of ammunition and then they'd just stroll up and shoot him in the head. He'd fight them until that's what they did. Nothing else would stop him.

After a moment, the footsteps came and he saw the shadows on the road as the soldiers approached. A voice ordered him to throw down his weapons and he tossed out the empty pistol.

"Stand up!" The order came. "Hands on your head!"

Jahni's face twisted into a smile. He put his hands on his head, the knife held by his thumb, pressed against the back of his head, hidden from view. They'd shoot him the instant he tossed the knife, but with luck he'd be hit the ground dead at the exact same time as Ghaith.

Slowly he stood up. Half a dozen soldiers stood in front of him, rifles pointed, tense. Ghaith. Jahni searched for him, couldn't see him...

"I'll take that." A familiar voice behind Jahni and then the muzzle of a pistol pressed into the back of his neck and a hand snatched away the knife. "See," Ghaith went on. "I remember what a sneaky little bastard you are, Lieutenant."

He moved, away from Jahni and to the front, so Jahni could see him and glare pure hatred at him.

"Finish it!" Jahni snarled. "I don't want to look at your pig face a second longer than I have to."

"Kill you?" Ghaith laughed. "Lieutenant, you're too modest. You're much too valuable a prize to kill." Smirking, he looked around at the other soldiers. "I think we'll be getting a bonus, lads. We just captured the bastard they call Madari's Shadow."

 
~~~~
 

The message came to them through several go-betweens, but bore a code that told Madari it originated with General Sattan. He stood in the radio room as it came in.

Two unidentified men killed, one captured, identified as Lieutenant Kahil Jahni.

The message continued, but Madari couldn't hear it. He had to grab at the back of the operator's chair when his knees shook and his stomach turned over.

Alive, one part of his mind screamed. The part that had been a nightmare ball of terror for the last twelve hours, since the recon party had not returned. Captured, another part of him screamed back. And two men dead.

When the operator spoke, Madari managed to drag himself back to the here and now and looked at the man, blankly.

"The full message, sir," the operator repeated handing over a sheet of paper. Madari took a breath and tried to get his mind working again. Tried to drag it out of a dark cell, tried to shut out the imagined sound of Jahni screaming. He read the message.

"Thank you. Please, have the senior staff report to my office."

"Yes, sir."

Madari walked out of the room, grabbing at the doorframe for a moment, almost losing his balance. As he walked, his breathing grew faster and his dizziness increased. He passed a man and couldn't even recognise him.

At last, he reached his office, slammed the door and leaned against it. The message slipped from his shaking hand to the floor. His head fell back against the door, eyes squeezed shut, breath coming in gasps now.

This is my fault! I'm being punished, for my thoughts about him. My desire for him. My love. My sin. I've condemned him.

Someone tapped on the door behind him and his eyes sprang open, wide, staring. His men, his officers. He needed to get control of himself. His face felt wet and he scrubbed an arm across it, and then tried to flatten his hair down.

Control, he ordered himself. Control. You are an officer. You are a leader. A leader does not weep. A leader plans. Jahni doesn't need my tears now. He needs my leadership. He cleared his throat and opened the door, then strode towards his desk as several officers and senior men from the civilians trooped in.

Dr Al-Hijazi took one of the chairs by the desk and Noor, who still limped from his battle wound, when it suited him and chairs were short, took the other. The rest stood around the room.

"Gentlemen." Madari put a hand on the back of his chair to steady himself, but stayed on his feet. "We have received a message..." he realised he'd not picked up the paper; it still lay in a crumpled ball by the door. Never mind. "Sent by General Sattan. Our reconnaissance party was intercepted at a checkpoint. Sabri and Rehm were killed and..." Control. Keep your voice steady. "Lieutenant Jahni has been taken prisoner."

The men stirred and looked at each other and muttered. Madari held up a hand and they fell silent.

"He's currently held at the Al-Rasia military base," Madari went on.

"Damn," Noor said. "That place is big, there's no way we can hit that."

Madari wanted to smile, but controlled it. He didn't even have to make the suggestion; Noor had done it for him. But what he said was right. The base was an impossible target for an attack. It would be suicide. But they had an alternative.

"According to the General's message Jahni will be transported to the capital for interrogation." His voice shook on the last word and he saw Faraj look sharply at him.

"Well, we have to get him out," Noor said, matter of factly. "He knows too much, we can't let them interrogate him."

Others nodded and Madari gave a serious nod too. "He has a lot of information, not only about our operation, but the locations and strengths of the other guerrilla groups. And our sympathisers, Sheik Elahi, General Sattan himself."

"If I was Sattan I'd be booking a plane ticket right now," Noor said.

Madari frowned and shook his head. "To lose Sattan would be a terrible blow. He may be the most valuable man to the rebellion in the whole country."

Faraj's scrutiny started to bother Madari. Are all the rest thinking the same as him, Madari wondered. That he wanted to get Jahni out because he needed him. Nothing to do with Elahi, or Sattan or the other rebel groups.

"Of course, Kahil knows all this," Noor said. He sighed. "I hate to say it, but he could solve the problem himself."

Madari frowned at him, not understanding. "What do you mean, Captain?"

"Well, he only needs a few minutes alone, his sash and something sturdy and high up to tie it to."

Madari sat down abruptly in his chair. He had to put his hands under the desk so the other men couldn't see them shaking.

"Always practical, aren't you, Javid?" Faraj's words sounded bitter.

Noor winced and looked chagrined. He turned to Madari. "I'm sorry, sir. Of course, I don't want that. I want Kahil back, I just..."

Madari waved a hand. "No, you make a good point, Captain." And he loved Noor as a dear friend, a brother, but right at this moment, wanted to punch him in the mouth. "Jahni understands how useful his information would be to the enemy. But..." Will he believe that Madari would come for him? Will that keep him from taking that route to escape? Of course he knows. He must know. "I think he won't do something so drastic until he is sure there is no other course."

"Well you know him best, sir," Noor said, and Madari frowned at him for a moment until Faraj spoke.

"Then we have to get him out."

Madari looked at Faraj, met his eyes. Faraj found Jahni difficult, had never quite been sure how to deal with him. But Madari knew he'd never forgotten watching Jahni beat Ghaith to avenge him. He knew Faraj still felt he owed Jahni a debt.

"I will take only volunteers on this mission," Madari said it suddenly, the words coming without much thought, but knew at once that they were right. Needing to prevent Jahni giving up the information was only an excuse. Jahni could know no secrets at all and Madari would still want to rescue him, he couldn't deny that. Could it be right to order men to risk their lives on a rescue mission in that case? Only men who wanted to rescue Jahni because they cared for him too should come on this mission.

How popular was Jahni with the men, he wondered. They admired his fighting skill certainly, but did they resent his friendship with Madari? Madari had tried to be careful not to show favouritism, but he could have done so unconsciously. And while he thought Jahni never capitalised on their closeness, never used it to his advantage, did all of the men see it the same way?

"Do we know yet when he's being moved?" Noor asked.

"No," Madari said. "Not yet. General Sattan will advise us as soon as he finds out a route and time."

"There's at least half a dozen different routes they could take," Darak said. "I've got family who live in that part of the country, I know it well. I'll go on the mission."

Madari nodded. The first volunteer. He glanced at Faraj, who gave a quick nod of confirmation. Of course. As men put forward their names and a squad formed, Madari looked at them and one question filled his mind. Would I do this for any of you, or only for him? He glanced at Faraj again. No, I would do it for you at least. If no-one else, I'd do it for you.

 
~~~~
 

Jahni sat on the floor, the stone wall cool against his naked back. They had taken most of his clothes, left him only his trousers. He didn't care too much about that, except for one thing. His sash. Madari had made it himself. Jahni had spent hours hemming the edge to keep it from fraying and he wore it even on a recon mission like the one he'd been on. Wound around his waist, under his shirt, unseen, but always there. And the soldiers had taken it and he wanted it back.

He moved, trying to get comfortable, favouring the bruises he'd collected since his capture. The manacles on his wrists and ankles clanked as he shifted. It was almost flattering, he thought. Cuffed and fettered, even while locked in a cell. They must be very afraid of him indeed. They should be afraid. He'd take any chance to kill Ghaith, even at the cost of his own life. If the man had still been in the camp the night the prisoners and the A-Team had taken over, then he would have been dead then.

If Madari had allowed it. He'd not allowed them to kill General Ziyahd and plenty of men would have stepped up to volunteer to do that. Rules, Madari believed in them, about how to treat a prisoner. Principles rather, since at that point there'd been nobody to punish him for breaking the rules, only his conscience to punish him for going against his principles.

A man of principle. Ideals. Jahni wished he had as much moral courage in himself. Physical courage he had plenty of, but he could never quite trust that he would choose the right course, the moral course. That he would let emotion rule him instead. Hatred, revenge, anger. Such feelings didn't lead a man to do the right thing.

Those very feelings surged now as the door slammed back and Ghaith strode into the room, a smirk on his face that Jahni wanted to wipe off. With a flamethrower for preference. He came in alone, and closed the door. Jahni guessed plenty of men stood just outside.

Anger gained the upper hand as he saw Ghaith carried Jahni's sash over his shoulder. The thought of the vile creature putting his hands on it sickened Jahni. He looked Ghaith over. Apparently unarmed. Interesting. They must be assuming Jahni could take any weapons a man brought into the cell. He guessed Ghaith had handed his sidearm over with an arrogant sneer, saying that he didn't need anything but his bare hands to deal with Jahni.

"Afternoon, Lieutenant."

"Idiot. You never tell a prisoner the time of day."

Ghaith looked taken aback for a moment at the rather calm reply. Jahni sneered at him, but he hated where he'd got that knowledge. From Madari, from his account of how disorienting it had been never to know the time of day during those three weeks with the KGB.

"Shut your trap," Ghaith snarled. "You'll know the time of day soon enough when we take you out of here to take you to Az-Ma'ir." He smirked again. "Yes, they're looking forward to having a nice long chat with you there. I'm sure they're getting out the pliers right now, waiting for you to arrive. Perhaps they'll even use the same ones as..."

Jahni's scrambled to his feet, his mind filled with red fire. Faris never talked of that. Jahni suspected he couldn't. That to face that moment again, even as a memory would drive him to insanity.

Ghaith took a few steps back, breaking off.

"Touch me and you die, boy," he warned.

"It would be worth it," Jahni snarled. He didn't move though. He'd have to cross the room in full view of the soldiers watching through the door. And they might shoot him before he even reached Ghaith. He needed to wait for a chance, for Ghaith to get close. To get careless.

Ghaith slid the sash off his shoulder and held it in both hands. Jahni watched him, with narrowed eyes.

"We've heard about these rags of yours. Wear it in a nice pretty bow, do you, Lieutenant? Perhaps you have matching ribbons for your hair?"

Jahni heard the other men sniggering outside the door.

"I'd invite you to try it on," Jahni said, "but I don't think you could get it even once around your fat gut."

Ghaith scowled, face flushing dark, and took a couple of steps forward. Come closer, pig, Jahni thought. Come closer. Let me get hold of you. Snap your fat neck. He'd fought Ghaith before and though he'd done pretty well he couldn't be sure he would have won in the end if the fight had gone on. Now he felt certain he could win. He had the strength and he had the moves. Snap his neck in a heartbeat. Come on, closer.

But Ghaith stopped, stayed too far away from Jahni to jump him. He looked at the sash again.

"Fond of this, are you?" Jahni didn't answer. Ghaith frowned. Then he spat on the sash. Jahni's hands curled into fists and Ghaith smiled. He dropped the sash on the floor and stepped onto it, with both of his booted feet, wiped them. Jahni gasped and sprang forward, knowing he shouldn't, knowing he was acting in a fit of temper.

Ghaith was ready for him. He met Jahni's rush, with a punch, that Jahni raised a hand to block. But with his hands cuffed that left Jahni's other side open and Ghaith's left slammed into his jaw. He staggered back, dizzily and dropped to his knees. The door opened and Ghaith shouted orders at the other soldiers.

A few seconds later they grabbed him, dragged him to his feet, and slammed him against the wall. Jahni shook his head, trying to clear his vision. Blood tasted of metal in his mouth. Something touched him under his chin and suddenly forced his head up. Ghaith had his truncheon out, forcing Jahni's head up and back, until it pressed against the wall.

"I told you what would happen if you touched me."

Jahni laughed, a harsh sound. "Don't waste your time with your empty threats. I know you can't kill me. Not if they have plans for me in Az-Ma'ir."

Ghaith scowled, dug the truncheon in harder until Jahni choked and coughed and struggled against the men holding him, desperate for breath. For the first time he felt fear unmixed with anything else, no anger, no battle lust, nothing but the terror of being unable to take a breath.

Then Ghaith pulled the truncheon away and Jahni slumped, wheezing and pulling in huge breaths. A word from Ghaith and the other men dropped him to hit the floor on his hands and knees. Head spinning and ears buzzing Jahni heard their footsteps on the stone floor, moving away from him. With a huge effort, he managed to raise his head. Ghaith looked back, perhaps sensing the glare directed at him.

"See you later, Lieutenant. When we're ready to go."

"We?" Jahni coughed the word out.

"Of course." Ghaith grinned. "You're my prisoner after all. For capturing you, they're going to give me a medal!"

 
~~~~
 

Madari watched the small convoy approaching. The sun glared off the window of the small truck. One jeep drove in front of it, one behind. They had no choice but to do this in daylight. The message they received from General Sattan giving them the time and the route of Jahni's transport to the capital gave them no choice on that.

But Madari felt glad of it anyway. Too much chance of a mistake in the dark. For the same reason he'd taken only those men he trusted to keep cool heads and not go "rock and roll" as the younger men called it when they set their rifles to fully automatic. Could he trust himself to stay cool? He'd managed to project an outward image of control since the initial meeting. Had managed to appear calm and determined. Yet inside, his mind still screamed. He lifted his radio.
 
"At my command. Remember, check your targets. This is a rescue mission."

Bullets would be flying and Jahni would be defenceless in the middle of it. He may not even be able to drop to the floor, depending on how he was restrained. They had to reach him fast.
 
The vehicles drew closer and Madari and his men, lying in ambush in the cover of rocks and ditches by the road, grew tenser, waiting, waiting for their moment. At Madari's side, Darak lay with one of the rocket launchers loaded and ready. Was the leading jeep far enough ahead for that, Madari asked himself. He didn't want the explosion of that to make the truck catch fire. Yes, as they came still closer he judged the distance and it was enough. Ready. Ready.
 
"Now!" He snapped at Darak. The rocket streaked away a second later, low over the ground and smashed through the radiator grill of the jeep.
 
No radio signal needed for the others, the exploding jeep triggered them to burst from cover. Nobody ran for the leading jeep, the shell of it blazed and the two soldiers who'd been in it lay dead on the road. One squad, led by Noor attacked the trailing jeep. Madari led two men to the cab of the truck on the driver's side. Faraj and another two approached on the passenger side.
 
The truck driver opened the door and pointed a pistol at Madari's team, but Darak shot him before he could fire and the man toppled from the cab and hit the ground. Madari climbed into the now empty cab, Faraj's team had dragged the passenger out.

No access to the back of the truck from the cab. Damn. He jumped back out. All the gunfire had stopped now and looking to the rear, he saw Noor's team pulling two limp bodies from the jeep.
 
Excellent. He ran, the other two following him, to the back of the truck. A padlock secured the doors. The key would be around somewhere, but he had no time to find it.
 
"Bolt cutters," Madari snapped at Darak who at once unhooked them from his belt.

"Let me, sir."
 
Madari stepped back to allow the younger and stronger man to snip through the padlock with the bolt cutters.
 
"Stand back," Darak said glancing around, making sure nobody stood exposed to gunfire from inside the truck. He lifted the handle and pulled open the door. No gunshots came out and Madari pushed past Darak, the cool head he'd kept so far starting to thaw. He pointed his pistol into the dark interior of the truck.
 
The dark and empty interior.