There was another shrill cry and a second man, jambiya raised, emerged from the darkness, but this time he was instantly overwhelmed by the guards.

'Alive!' Paul called in Arabic. 'Alive!' He turned to George. 'Who is he, where does he come from -find out.'

George ran to the struggling group as they held the man down, and Paul helped Kate up. 'Are you all right? You're not harmed?'

She held him close and spoke in Arabic. 'No, my brother, thanks to you.'

He embraced her. 'Leave this to me. Go to bed.'

She turned reluctantly and Paul Rashid went into the shadows and squatted beside the second assassin, now pegged out on the ground. The man's face was lined and drawn. The pupils of his eyes were like pinpricks and there was foam around his mouth.

'A hired assassin drugged with quat,' George said.

Paul Rashid lit a cigarette and nodded. Quat was a narcotic found in the leaves of shrubs in Hazar. Many of his people were addicted to it. For some, it lent false courage.

For this man, it would lend only death.

'Do what you have to do,' he said to George.

He went back and sat by the fire, drank more coffee, and Kate appeared and sat at his side. A cry of pain came from the shadows, a sudden scream, then silence. George and Michael appeared.

'So?' Paul asked.

'The Sultan arranged it for the Americans and Russians. They couldn't afford us staying alive.'

'What a pity for them,' Paul Rashid said, 'that they failed.'

There was a pause. Michael and George sat down. 'What happens now?' George asked.

'First, I think it's time for a new Sultan. Your speciality is working with our people in Hazar,' Paul told him. 'See to it. But there's a larger issue at stake. Do we let these mighty powers do this to our people? Do we let them destroy our land? Do we let them strike at us? No, I think we must strike at them.'