The car drifts across the gravel, rear door swinging wildly, still open. Its windscreen is starred white and somebody is trying to punch through it from behind. The lieutenant's gun barks suddenly, making me start; the heavy machine gun they brought from the jeep opens up and I put my hands to my ears. The four wheel drive shakes, pieces fly off it and it turns sharply, front wheel seeming to buckle, almost tipping it into the moat (the machine gun's rounds kick tall thin splashes in the water for a moment); the car swerves the other way, losing speed; it straightens out briefly and crashes into the corner of the stable block.

“Stop!” shouts our lieutenant, and the firing ceases.

Steam curls upwards from the car's crushed bonnet. The driver's door opens and somebody falls out, crawling on all fours on the ground, then collapsing.

Another motor sounds, there is more firing from the front of the castle, and then one of the lieutenant's trucks appears, roaring up the drive, straight for the castle. The gunfire stops; the truck disappears from view, obscured by the castle. We hear its engine rev, then stop altogether.

The rain has ceased. For a few moments there is silence and the only movement comes from the wisps of steam escaping the fourwheel drive's engine. Then we hear a few shouts, and some shots. The lieutenant takes out her radio. “Mr C?” she says. I hear a crackle in reply.

“Ah, Dopple; what's happening?”

She listens. “Okay. We got the four wheel drive; it's out of action. We're coming in now, from the ridge behind. Three minutes..” She puts the radio away. “Psycho got one at the bridge,” she tells us. “There's another two or three inside the castle, but the truck got to the gate in time; we're in.” She shoulders her gun. “Tootight,” she says to the fat soldier I shared the rear of the jeep with. “You stay here; pop anybody running away who's not one of us.” The fat soldier nods slowly.