David frowned. The encounter had begun well, but things were deteriorating fast. He said, ''You have some information for me regarding a concentration of enemy forces outside Amman and Damascus.''

''Straight to business, huh?'' said Wilkins. ''Yep, we've got some good shit for you all right. Long-lens photos of Nephthysian infantry and heavy armour being marshalled. Major, major build-up. Ask me, it looks like the start of a push northward into the Ottoman Empire to take on the Osirisiac Hegemony's south-eastern flank.''

David's eyes narrowed. ''That'll be for the desk jockeys in Intelligence to decide. Our job isn't to speculate. It's to get the information back to them.''

''Looks pretty cut and dried to me,'' replied Wilkins, adding sardonically, ''But then what do I know? I'm just a dumb grunt on the ground who risks his life doing recon in hostile territory all day long. I sure as shit can't imagine what else the Nephs would be gathering their forces there for, but hey, let's do as you say and leave it to the big-brains. Ten'll get you one they agree with me.''

''Where are they then?'' said David. ''The photos.''

''Back thataways.'' Wilkins gestured along the valley in the direction he and his Cobra Force cohorts had come from. ''We're holed up in this place that's all towers and tombs. Ain't far, no more than a quarter-mile. You can come alone or bring your guys with you if you like.''

David looked at Sergeant McAllister. ''Let's all go. We'll be home by midnight.''

McAllister nodded, his lip down-curling. ''Men! Fall in. Home by midnight.''

Wilkins had already walked off a few paces to rejoin his group. Now he stopped abruptly. His shoulders slumped. Not turning round, he cursed softly in a language that was not English. ''Khara.'' Arabic for shit.