Once Costello had left, Terry dressed and sat down to make a few calls. Hsueh's cell phone - disconnected. Her apartment - no answer. Her office phone unobtainable. He called the company that she worked for. They had no idea who he was talking about. No person of that name had ever worked for Boon Lam Holdings. Somehow he wasn't surprised.

He sank his head in his hands. He had never even run a cursory check on her. She had given him so much information to go on and yet he had not thought to run any single item by the usual precautions. Analysing it all in the cold light of day, he realised how skillfully he had been manipulated. From the day they had met, she had never once done the running. It was he who had asked to share the taxi, persuaded her to have coffee with him, called her for dinner, asked her to sleep with him- he had even chased her and begged her to see him again after she had walked out.

It wasn't even as if he hadn't had doubts. He had clearly had them from the start. But he had somehow let her relatively simple seduction of him convince him that he was in control. She had read him so perfectly: his arrogant assumption that the woman loved him simply because she had said that she did, his curious passivity in the sexual trap she had laid for him which should have alerted him to the danger of entrapment - but instead she had made him feel like this was some need he had based on the nature of his current mission. Maybe it was - in part - but the fact was that she had known he would be led by the nose where a normal sexual entanglement would have been insignificant to him. He should either have taken sex on the run or sent out for a girl and played whatever game he fancied in relative safety.

But she had changed the rules. Whoever Miss Lim really was, she was a skilful and dangerous opponent who had made a fool of him. He almost admired her more than ever for taking him down the way she had. It was obvious that she had known her mark. No man or woman could get him any other way than by his own will. She had twisted and bent him out of shape until he asked her to do with him whatever she pleased. And then he had thanked her for it, assuming that he was in control merely because she had told him that he was.

The whole episode had shaken him to the core and attacked his central belief in what he was. At the end of the day, he had persuaded himself that he was falling in love with a hauntingly beautiful woman simply because in his head that fact somehow excused him from responsibility for his actions. He was better than men like Costello because he did not choose to treat a woman like a piece of meat just there for his own pleasure. Or that was the theory anyway. As long as you love a woman then it's OK. It's OK to commit adultery with her when she is vulnerable and her husband is at risk. It's OK to cheat on your wife who has shouldered all the burdens of your family to enable you to live your life as you choose. But hey, it's fine...I'm the good guy. Vulnerable and wounded, that's me. That makes it all right, then, mate - no worries.

Existentialism, Terry. Whatever way you look at this, you're still a fucking stupid bastard. And even Costello has a better grip on his personality than you do.

In the field everyone makes mistakes. It is inevitable that something goes wrong. That's what a real professional is waiting for. Sometimes these things can be dealt with; sometimes they can be fatal. Wracking his brains, there seemed to be no way that Lim could affect the outcome of what they were doing but he had to be alert to an angle he had not foreseen. It was possible she had failed to find what she had been after but he doubted it. Sooner or later her agenda would emerge and he had to be ready to react to whatever curve ball was the consequence.

But for now, tomorrow was his goal and everything else would have to take a back seat. Even his fear.

"We had the most amazing night...I think laying off sex is good for you....I've never had so many orgasms in one session... it was just mind blowing. I thought I would die of pleasure..."

The six weeks were up and Mel and Dino had broken loose. They had pried themselves away from Nathaniel, left him with his nanny and holed up in a hotel suite for twenty four hours and indulged themselves. Annie sat at lunch across a table and giggled helplessly at some of Mel's stories. She was in fine form and Dino would have been wishing the ground would swallow him up if he knew exactly what she was spilling. They had been pretty wild, Mel had confided. It was a wonder either could walk straight.

A bottle of wine had helped the loosening process over lunch. Mel hadn't drunk much for so long that it didn't take much to get her buzzed. 

"...So we decided that we would try this oil that I'd ordered and this amazing little rabbit thing..."

"Mel...you're putting me off my lunch...please..." Annie begged. Mel snorted and gave her the eye.

"You're only jealous. You've forgotten what one that doesn't need a battery feels like, haven't you...go on, admit it..."

"MEL! That is too personal. You don't ask a person how they cope without it..!."

"So you don't masturbate? Like hell you don't..." A man on the next table glanced over curiously. Annie kicked her leg.

"Shut up, big mouth! Of course, I do. I'm only bloody human..."

Mel topped up their glasses. "Won't be long now. Dino says Sex on Legs is coming home soon with his incredible performing flesh and blood dick..." she giggled at her own crudity.

"It's early afternoon, you're drunk and should be ashamed of yourself," Annie retorted. "My husband is not just a life support system for a dick, you know..."

They both burst out laughing at that. "OK...so I'm a bit obsessed with willies these days. I even got on the net and had a look at some of those naked men sites..."

"Not as good as Terry though..."

Annie snorted. "You better believe it...some are unreal... They are HUGE...if they put anything like that near me in real life I'd have to take a stick to it... Even I have my limits..."

"Well, I don't," Mel announced through a mouthful of pasta. "My son's head and shoulders have got to be bigger than even King Dong himself so I reckon the sky's the limit now..."

"Melanie Lapenti you are just too disgusting for words. What would your husband say?"

"Probably, come over here and see if you can fit this in..." She pulled her tongue out at Annie. "So...I take it you are just a bit randy these days..."

Annie hunched her shoulders and muttered. "Well, not as much as I was..."

"Meaning...?" Mel put down her fork and joined her hands. "...What have you been up to?"

Her friend played with her salad bowl and sighed. "Mel...I need to talk about something. But...I'm really a bit ashamed to say it..."

"What? What have you done? Not some guy...awww, Annie..."

"NO! Of course not...although...personally...this is just as bad..."

Melanie relaxed back in her seat suddenly alarmed at Annie's comment. "I think you need to come straight out with it. Tell me - now, what is it?"

Annie threw down her fork and lit up. Mel took the cigarette and stubbed it out. "You can't smoke in a restaurant. So - talk!"

"I slept with Charis." She snapped out and then waited for the reaction.

"WHAT??"

"You heard me."

"You mean...slept as in 'had sex with her'?"

"Well...yeah..." Annie pouted. The man on the next table pretended to be eating and not listening in.

Melanie burst out laughing. "Woo hoo! Annie Dwyer gets her rocks off at last! About bloody time too. Well, did you like it?"

"What do you mean? Did I like it? This is not some sort of joke!"  Annie gasped.

Mel just rolled her eyes. "Oh come on...it's just a good tension reliever. It's fun with a girl. Light relief. Admit it- you liked it, didn't you? Naughty but nice, hey? Just like chocolate..."

"You know, Mel, I really object to your reaction. You were the one giving me lectures a few weeks ago about letting Terry down. I promised him I wouldn't betray him. And I have. I slept with someone else. I had sex with someone else. That's infidelity. I'm struggling with this, Mel, and I can do without your levity, thanks very much!"

"What can I say? I don't regard it as the same thing. You don't love her, you were just experimenting..."

"So if I pick up a young guy and just have a good time, that's ok?"

"Of course not."

"That's just hypocrisy. Sheer and simple hypocrisy. If I share my body with someone other than my husband then it is adultery. It doesn't matter if it's male or female. I have to deal with that." Mel didn't answer at first but stirred her coffee thoughtfully.

"Did you like it? I mean...what did it do for you? Is that part of the problem?"

Annie shrugged. "I was drunk and high. I guess I enjoyed it at the time. The next morning I felt embarrassed and confused. I felt dirty. Ashamed."

"What did you say to Charis?"

"She was great. Same as ever. She said it was all right, that I needed to think about it. Get my head round it."

"She's right. Annie, if you told Terry about this he would just laugh. I mean - he wouldn't care. Men get turned on by the thought of it - it's how they're wired. Believe me, it isn't a big deal. If you don't want to do it again, then don't. But if you do - then do!"

Annie ran her hands back through her hair. "I'm not even sure this is about Terry. It's about the nature of sexuality. I am trying to figure out what it's all about. Don't you understand what I mean? Mel...she did what a man would do to me. I was intimate with her body. I'm not sure gender is a factor here at all. I feel just the same after having an orgasm with a woman than a man..."

"Then why is vibrator any different? Isn't that being unfaithful as well?"

"Oh, don't talk such shit! Mel...!" Annie rolled her eyes. "I am seriously worried about myself. Is this something to do with what happened with Amri? Have I got issues about men? Will things be okay with Terry when he comes back..."

Mel smiled and took her hand. "This is the crux of it all, isn't it? When he comes back, you know what will happen. He'll be here and everything will be alright. Terry knows what to do and if you have problems then you just tell him - straight out - and you know he's your man. But you won't have problems with him. You know you won't. Baby....he's The Man. No one else even comes close, hey?"

Annie blushed and drank her wine, still tossing the memories over in her head. She wasn't satisfied with platitudes. She had given into temptation and if she tried to think it was different somehow, then she was not being true to herself. She had wanted sex and had welcomed the excuse of drink and drugs to allow herself to get what she wanted. Had she enjoyed it? Yes. As a thrill and masturbatory fantasy. But it hadn't touched her soul. And she wasn't very proud of herself for needing something as transient as a night of sexual play with a girlfriend. It made her feel like an hormonal child.

She also wondered what exactly Terry would say- because there was no doubt she would tell him. Who else would ever really try to understand?

Was Mel right about how he would respond? Was sex to a man really all about power and control? Was what a man needed to know that no other man had possessed his property? That sleeping with a woman didn't matter in his mental framework? That was a very worrying concept to her. Would she really feel better if Terry was angry or disappointed than if he just laughed it off as a bit of a fantasy that he would rather like to have witnessed? Was sex to him mostly about penetration with his penis, not about equally sharing an intimate experience? Because if that was what was going on in men's heads then it was as if a woman was some kind of trophy won as a proof of his virility - and surely that wasn't the true symbol of what a man and a woman meant to each other?

Does it work in reverse, she postulated. Terry and another man? Now there's an image. It was ludicrous to imagine - she knew that. It would just never happen. But still and all...what would that feel like to her if she was ever a witness to such an act? It was impossible to actually get her head round it. There was a certain curiosity about what men might do to each other and if it would look different from their behaviour with a woman. Surely, as with women, their knowledge of their own bodies would change the dynamic - and that was vaguely arousing to her. But wouldn't it be just a physical experience to a straight man, a rather raw and sordid one at that, too? Still - would she be jealous? Now there was a strange one. Jealous of another man?

"Snap out of it. You're doing it again. Over-bloody-analyzing. Your life is not an historical thesis. Terry loves Annie. Annie loves Terry. You miss each other. He'll be back soon. That is the story of your life - so just accept it. And count yourself bloody lucky you have a man like him. There aren't many of them about, darlin'..."

Strolling through the streets later on that pleasant afternoon on her way to collect the children, trying to ignore her shadow who was always on her tail these days, Annie let her mind wander back over the morning after her little escapade with Charis. She had woken with a start when Liam had bounded onto her bed and smothered her with a sloppy kiss. For a terrible moment she thought Charis was still there, but the bed was empty; no sign of the erotic events of the night before remained apart from a tube of lube that was lying accusingly on a cupboard. Charis had evidently had more experience of these occasions than she did.

Dragging herself up with a thick head and a sick sense of morning-after dread, she had made breakfast and drank coffee quietly while the three children chattered around her at the table. Charis had wandered in freshly showered and smiled across at her, blowing a kiss over the heads of the little ones but making no reference to the previous night's events. Shortly afterwards the mother and daughter prepared to leave for home.

At the door, Charis caught Annie's arm. "You OK?"

"Dunno. Not really. I feel a bit..." Annie blushed, looked down at her feet.

"It's fine. You need time. Maybe it isn't for you. But it was special and I really like you very much, you know. We're good friends and if you want to play again, you let me know. If you don't - then you also let me know. We talk about this? Like adults. But whatever you decide - we are still friends. OK?"

Annie nodded and smiled wanly. Charis made it sound so easy. But it wasn't easy. With a sigh, she had said her goodbyes and stood with her arms around the children as they waved them off. She felt dirty to touch her own kids and wondered what they would think if they knew half of the things in their mother's mind - never mind what she had been doing with another woman the night before. It's hard to divorce the woman that you are from the woman that you wish to be, she thought to herself bitterly.

The two men crossed the forecourt briskly to the waiting limousine with long strides and the walk of men with a purpose. Their faces were set and, whilst they appeared not to be taking much notice of their surroundings, not a single detail was eluding them as they scoped the pre-dawn quiet of the grand hotel lobby. There were not many people about anyway -just a few stray tourists arriving from cheap package flights or business men checking out for early connections.

It was dark at that time of the morning and the cool tropical dawn was still a few hours away; it had rained overnight and the usual humidity of the atmosphere had dropped. It was almost pleasant for once.

The car was waiting and they slipped into the rear seats, one on either side, without even acknowledging the driver, or the accompanying man in the passenger seat. The vehicle moved off smoothly and they sat back watching the deserted streets pass by as they sped through the city centre absent, at this unearthly hour, of the usual manic congestion.

The car took a detour into the grounds of a deserted bungalow, the over grown compound and dilapidated house still bearing the fading elegance of it colonial past even if the jungle was already re-claiming it from the neat illusion of imperial splendour. Terry and Nick were gruffly told to get out.

The two men stood by the car; another car pulled up behind it and out came four armed men. With a practiced jerk, they forced Thorne and Costello to lie across the trunks of either car, legs splayed, while they were searched thoroughly. When it was clear they had no weapons they were hauled up again and held at gun point. Without any conversation, Terry's laptop case was seized, opened, checked and then placed in the trunk of the car. He was thrust into one car, Costello the other and this time their hands were bound behind their backs.

The rest of the journey was conducted in silence.

It was a long drive via a highway, out of the city and then turning off again into what appeared to be increasingly quieter and quieter roads through sleepy plantations. It was still too dark to see clearly where they were heading - nothing but mile after mile of neatly planted estates. After about an hour when the sky was already lightening, the cars ran off the narrow road down a small bumpy rutted path through an oil palm estate. There were people about even at this time, plantation workers, mostly immigrants from poorer neighbouring countries who kept their heads down and saw nothing - you could be sure of that.

Finally the path widened out and Terry realized they were at a tiny jetty on the banks of a river, thick with swamp on either side. He saw the sign Awas! Buaya! with the sketch of a crocodile below. This might be only a short run from the city but they were in the wilds now - cobra-infested palms and crocodile-infested rivers. Civilization was only a veneer before the true force of nature in this rainforest land.

Pushing the two men forward- hand guns now replaced by shotguns, they were led to a large launch, the type of narrow-bottomed craft that best negotiated the upper stretches of these jungle rivers. On board they were forced to sit with their heads pushed down  from the rear - they could only see their feet. The engine fired and the launch roared off up stream.

"Nice view...always wanted to see the interior..." Nick mumbled but he received a sharp jab from the butt of the gun at his neck to shut him up. Terry saw him flex his neck and shoulders and imagined him assessing his chances. They were pretty good. Even with his hands bound, Costello was dangerous. But he also knew what he was here to do - and to upset these men was not on the agenda, however tempting the thought might be.

"Bring them forward!" A voice rang out and they were told to stand. Several men had quietly taken seats near the entrance to the inner cabin around a table and they were made to kneel before it. The man in the centre of the group, dark-skinned with iron grey hair and the cultured tones of an educated man joined his hands and surveyed them. "I apologise for the somewhat crude treatment you have received so far but we are not about to underestimate men of your professional capabilities. You are also both much taller than we are. And I prefer to look down on you for once." There was a glimmer of a smile on his face as he said that. The guy was enjoying himself.

Which could be good. Or it could be bad.

Jenna Low settled back on the leather seat of the private jet as it reached cruising altitude and banked away from the airport heading east. It was early morning and a rosy-pink dawn was just breaking over the horizon. She checked her watch. It was six thirty a.m.- an eight hour flight ahead; they should reach Sydney by later afternoon and be at his home by dinnertime that evening.

"You look pensive," a man sitting opposite addressed her.

She turned her head and surveyed her traveling companion. Edward Tan, one of the richest men in the Far East was watching her. With a shrug, she picked up a magazine and flicked through it as if his comment bored her.

"You did well, Mei Mei."

Another shrug. "It's what I do," she replied dismissively.

"But then...no one does it quite like you, do they?" He smiled mirthlessly. "Don't tell me this man got to you? Surely even your diamond ice heart cannot be breached?"

She rolled her head back and stared blankly out of the window at the dark night clouds that leaked the new day before her eyes. "No man gets to me. Nor ever shall."

"But you enjoyed the sexual activity? Tell me about it. Did he perform well?"

Jenna did not say anything. Tan went on. "The next stage is about to be implemented, do you know? The fruits of your labour, so to speak.  I have just made the call. So simple. Perhaps he is not such a formidable man after all? Or is he just guilty of the usual arrogance of the strong? Has he forgotten than any man is only as strong as his weakest point....as you, my dear, have so perfectly demonstrated."

She glared back without replying. He opened his wallet and took out a cheque. "This should cover your inconvenience..." She reached across and snatched it from him, making sure he saw her open scrutiny of the amount before slipping it in to the purse by her feet.

"Face the facts! You cannot resist the lure of money....that is your weakness, Mei Mei!"

"I hate that name!" she hissed back.

"Of course you do. And that is why I must call you by it. It would be no fun at all if you took any pleasure in it - now, would it?" His voice was oleaginous cream over jagged rock.

With a toss of his hand, he pushed away the table in front of him, unbuckling his seat belt and widening his stance.

"Now...earn some of that money I have just paid out to you...it's time you got back to the day job..."

Their eyes locked and the shards of hatred shooting from her fell onto his brittle hide to tumble away harmlessly. Dropping to her knees before him, Jenna bowed her head curtly and proceeded to unfasten the man's trouser zip and lower her head to her task.

She closed her eyes and imagined another man.

Annie stood outside the school chatting to a few Moms as she waited for her children to come out at the end of the day. Her shadow was at her elbow, as usual, and she was even beginning to get used to his presence - almost welcome it. Rod Seigler was a nice guy and he seemed to realize how difficult it was for a young family to have to put up with the constant intrusive presence of a stranger around them. He was used to the job and seemed to blend into the background very well. But Annie knew he was watching and alert in that same way Terry had of never appearing to be tense or observing and yet he was seeing everything that most people miss.

The classes were dismissed and children streamed out to climb aboard school buses or run out to waiting parents. Liam came running first, haring along with a piece of art work clinging to his hand; he jumped up at Annie for a kiss and thrust the picture at her - then high fived Rod. Zoe daintily skipped out after him and launched into some story about one of her lessons. Liam never seemed to remember what he had been taught. If asked what he had done on any day he invariably retorted "Nothing."

The car was parked down a side road near the school and Rod was holding the keys. They strolled down the quiet lane with the bodyguard trailing a few steps behind.

The attack when it came happened quickly. Annie was leaning down to look at a cut on Liam's arm and vaguely heard the sound of footsteps behind her. There was a  low grunt and then a thud. She turned to see just as Zoe launched into a piercing scream. Rod had fallen to his knees and then onto his face. Arterial blood spurted out all over the ground from the gaping slit in his neck.

Annie grabbed the children and instinctively hid their faces against her body. Then she caught sight of the van with its rear doors wide open backing towards them. Shrinking away she desperately looked for an escape route but it was too late - hands grabbed her from the back and the children were snatched. The moment that happened she was lost. All she could do was follow as they were thrust into the vehicle and the men piled in after; the doors were slammed and the van roared off. What had felt like minutes of slow motion had, in fact, been seconds. It was hard to fathom that in that time they had just watched a man die.

Instinct is a strange thing. Only one thought was on her mind. Her children. Her brain could not take in anything else at first. Scrabbling over to where they sat, their knees pulled up to their chins and eyes wide with fear, she held out her arms and they came to her, hiding their faces against her breasts. But they did not speak. Nor did they cry. This trauma was too far past any normal response they had. They were simply petrified by what had happened - deeply in shock. Gasping for breath she sat with her back against the wall of the van and held onto them tight. Two men with their heads covered by balaclavas stared at her from the other side of the small space.

"Who are you?" she gasped. "What do you want with us?"

They did not reply. One lit a cigarette, the other rested his head back and fingered the knife in his hand. It was stained with blood, as was the sleeve of his jacket.

The drive was conducted at high speed but never past an acceptable legal limit. It seemed interminable, so long that even the pounding beat of fear in her chest eased and she felt the rapid fluttering of her children's pulses settled back. Zoe eventually pulled away and looked around her, thumb in her mouth but still nestling against her mother. Liam knelt up and whispered in her ear that he wanted to wee. She told him to hold on. They would be there soon.

There? Where? But you pretend you know. You say that you are in control. That is your job. You're the Mum. You let them believe  in the illusion of your invincibility if only for now. They must be spared the truth at all costs for as long as it can be hidden.

"Is Rod all right, Mum?" Zoe muttered. "He was covered in blood..." her voice asked for reassurance but Annie knew she already knew the answer. The child just needed to hear the lie.

"'Course he is. He just bumped his head..."Annie replied.

It was a hollow and ridiculous comment but Zoe nodded and began the process in her mind of convincing herself that what she had seen had not been true. Liam meanwhile stared over at the men, a strangely impassive expression on his face. His usually open and expansive features seemed taut and controlled; his eyes narrowed. "Is this being kidnapped?" He suddenly asked without taking his eyes off the men.

"I think so, sweetie," Annie answered honestly.

"Is this about Dad?" He responded blankly. 

"I don't know, Annie whispered back.

"But he'll come and get us, won't he, Mum? That's his job..." Zoe interrupted.

Annie forced a smile. "Course he will. Dad will never let us down..." She hugged them to her but the truth of their predicament sank in. Terry was a day and a half's flight away. Who would even know they were gone? How long would it take for anyone to suspect that something was wrong? Until contact was received, she supposed. Until they received a ransom demand and a proof of life. But what could anyone possibly want with them? Was this to stop Terry from whatever he was doing? Did that mean that they knew who he really was? If so - what chance for any of them?

She glanced over at the men who were guarding them. They showed no sign of emotion or concern, no interest of any kind in their victims as human beings. It was as if this was something routine and of no moral issue to them whatsoever. That was perhaps the most frightening aspect of all. Even a fanatic with a cause might have been preferable to these cold calculating killers.

His attaché case was rested down on the table and opened, its contents taken out and perused. "This is your proposal?" His questioner asked.

Terry raised his head and stared him straight in the eyes. "The use of my hands at this point would be nice. I don't usually conduct business meetings roped up. Come on, mate, what do you expect me to do? I mean...I'm good....but..." he indicated the men surrounding them and the number of weapons that were trained on him and Costello. "I'm an excitable sort of bloke...talk with my hands, y'know?"

There were at least ten men on the launch apart from the two Australians,  discounting the boatmen. The boss man nodded to one of his men. "Untie. And the other man as well. They are both helpless..."

The tight rope was cut from their wrists; the bonds had been secure and uncomfortable - both men were sporting bleeding and raw skin where they had been tethered. Terry inclined his head in a curt thanks and rotated his wrists; Costello grimaced.

"So...you're the Man, hey? I'm not dealing with anyone less..."Terry began.

"...You'll deal with whoever you damn well get..." the man replied.

Terry eyed him up. "Tell me something...have you got the authority to say yes here and now? That's what I want. This is the big one. I do this and mate...the rest is fucked. I can never go back. You do this once and it has to be the killing. You following me? So....you're the Man, hey? 'Cos if you're not...then I'm jumping ship now..."

The man laughed. "And exactly how will you manage that? You think you would even get to the rail alive? You have seen my face. Either you are my partner now or you are a dead man..."

"You got a name...partner?" Terry asked, his chin thrust belligerently forward.

"Yes. I have many names. You can call me Abang. It means..."

"...Big Brother...and you can call me Paklah then..."

'Abang' laughed out loud, amused. "So...you know my language then...Big Daddy...but I know yours better. It is the language of money. Good. It suits me well. Yes...I make the decisions. Today, here and now, you will have your answer...you better hope it is Yes..."

Terry and Nick exchanged a look. "The goods are listed on the first sheet. I take it you can read?" Terry asked.

Abang gave him a searching glance. "Don't let your irreverent humour get the better of you, Mr. Thorne. I have a very low bullshit threshold... This makes very interesting reading. You claim that you can get hold of a nuclear warhead and a healthy measure of some rather unpleasant nerve gas. Exactly how am I to suppose you have access to these commodities? You were Australian army. They are hardly at the forefront of weapon development..."

Terry grinned. "Jesus, mate...you read my background? That Mickey Mouse army job was just a cover. I'm ex- British SAS. You know what that means. I have contacts in every armed force in the western world. And, mate, I assure you picking up this shopping list - while not exactly a piece of piss - is still a relatively easy walk in the park if you know how. And have been planning this little jaunt for years. This is going to set me up. One fucking job and I am set for life."

"You will be a hunted man..."

"Then that will force me to rely on you and your pals. I'm your man now....you better look after me and mine..."

Abang lit up a cigarette. He threw the packet and the lighter across the table. "Have a cigarette. Whilst we talk."

Terry took one and lit it, dragging deep. There was a hesitant silence as the launch sped along, just the sputtering roar of the diesel engine breaking the quiet of the inner reaches of the river. It was light now and the heat was beginning to build up. A drip of sweat ran down his back as he concentrated on taking long slow drags on the cigarette.

"And your men? What do you want for them?"

Terry shrugged. "They get a cut. But I'm in charge. This is my deal. You don't want them...up to you. We're not exactly lovers..."

Costello looked sharply across at him, his eyes narrowing. There was a look in his eyes that was hard to read. Perhaps this boy had lost his way. Maybe he was a frustrated actor after all.

"You would discard your men just like that?"

Terry smirked. "Casualties of war, mate. Shit happens." He took a final pull on the cigarette and flicked it from him in the direction of one of the guards who stepped back with an involuntary start before grinding the butt out with his heel and moving forward in temper with his gun. Abang shook his head. "No...! Stand up, Mr. Thorne. Mr. Costello...one cannot finalise business with men who are on their knees..."

The van came to a stop and Annie and the children were quickly taken out to stand for a moment in the early evening sunshine. The place appeared to be a disused warehouse in an industrial zone. The vehicle was immediately driven away. They were shunted through the open entrance which was lowered down promptly and then they were put onto a goods elevator, one of those fairly rudimentary hydraulics with no door, just a grille. It moved off shakily to the upper floor where the original offices had been.

As the lift shuddered to a halt and the iron gate was scraped back, the men indicated for the three of them to move ahead and they were pushed into a large room with no windows lit by fluorescent tubes. The place was dusty, full of disused and out of date equipment that had been lying about for years. There was a forlorn quality to the place, as if the memory of its busy past still lingered in the walls. People had spent their working lives here, laughed, joked, made coffee, eaten their sandwiches, talked on the phone...what an unremarkable place to die, she thought.

Why had she let that word into her head? Death? She must not think like that. To give up hope was to hand yourself over to it. But Annie knew that this was no more a kidnap than her other horror all those years ago had once been. These men would never let them go. There was nothing she could do to change their plans. But there was one thing that stood out in her mind. She would put every ounce of her intellect and strength into trying, however hopeless, to save her children. This time it was not about  the self-preservation that had  held her together before. Somehow she had accepted as soon as she had seen Rod fall that she herself was as good as dead already. That was no longer an issue in her mind.

Only one thing mattered: the children.  Just the children. Look for a way. A chance. Nothing else must get in the way of saving them now.

"Find somewhere to sit and stay there!" One of the masked men growled.

"Why are we here? Can you not give us any information?" Annie tried to ask a reasonable question, to try and reach them.

"I don't know. You just are. Shut up!" He sat down on a chair and leaned back, pulling out a knife and placing it across his lap. His gun was resting on the table by him.

Annie swallowed. "My children need the bathroom. Is there a toilet they could use?" Try to set up some normal channel of contact. We are humans, we have needs. We are not asking for anything unacceptable. It was a first step to talking...an opener for negotiations.

He swore profanely under his breath.

"It's hard for little ones to hold it in. If they're uncomfortable they'll become harder to deal with. Please..."

He stood up and pointed to a door across the room and then to one of the other men flanking the wall. "Take them. Door open!"

They walked forward and entered the small toilet that was lit by a single bulb. The tiny room was dirty and stained; the children wrinkled their noses. "It pongs!" Liam complained loudly.

"Just have a wee, Liam. It doesn't matter." Liam turned his back, fiddled in his pants and then began to urinate, giving a little whimper of satisfaction as he relieved himself.

"Mum...I need to go as well..." Zoe whispered. Annie waited until Liam was zipped up and then turned to her daughter. "Not with him looking!" Zoe gasped pointing at their captor.

Annie looked over at him. "Please...she's just a little girl...!"

The young man grinned but made no attempt to turn away. 

"Just ignore him..."

"...I'll stand in front of you...so will Mum..." Liam interrupted and he turned his back to his mother and sister. planting himself firmly in the way. Annie slipped down her daughter's panties and lifted her up over the bowl. She would not let her sit on such a seat. As she held her over and listened to the tinkle, she thought of all the times over the years she had cared for Zoe and her brother. The thousands of intimate things a mother does for her children and their bodies.  It struck her that this might be one of the last times she could do this for her little girl. But she would still be there until she could be there no more.

A cold calm descended on her, way past fear or anger, way past emotion. Some part of her was disengaging from the horror. She felt clear-headed and sure. They might try - most likely succeed - but they would have to go through her to get them.

"Stand in front of Mummy now. I need to go."

Both of the children formed a barricade and she was struck how strong the sense of solidarity was between them all. A sudden pride made her heart skip. These were their children, the finest things they had ever done together. Terry would be so proud of them if he could see how they were looking after her too in this moment.

Staring out at the man, seeing their little backs squared, they showed no fear even though she knew inside they must be shaking. The man continued to grin as Annie eased down her jeans and used the toilet but she met him eye to eye. You can't touch me, she thought. Nothing you do or say can ever reach me. I won't let it.

Back in the main office Annie found a corner, lined the floor with an old coverall she had found across the back of a chair, and sat down with the children. She found them pieces of typing paper and a few pencils and, despite themselves, they soon began to play word games like Hangman and squares of Noughts and Crosses. She kept them occupied and they all settled into the surreal experience as children will do, living for the moment.

Annie determined that she would do the same. Every moment. As many as she had left.

He knew he shouldn't do it. If he broke the court order then any chance he had of skipping the rap would be gone. But for Amiruddin al-Bakhti the past week or two had been a constant torment to him. He still found it hard to believe that he had done what he had in a fit of blind rage fuelled by more alcohol in one night than he normally drank in a month. If only he could tell Annie that he was sorry and make her see that he really wasn't that kind of man. Something had simply snapped inside him when he had seen that other man wining and dining her, romancing and flirting in that open and unashamed way. She had responded to this man like a lover; they had touched and kissed, talked with their heads close together. It had driven him half insane.

This woman whom he wanted so much, seemed to have let him down so terribly. To him she had been unique - so unlike any woman he had met so far. Her love for her husband - this man who had left her alone in a strange city for so many months - seemed to shine through in everything she had said and done. Anna Thorne had seemed like the epitome of what a wife and mother should be in this modern world - clever, open-minded, courageous and strong - but still not ashamed to be a wife and mother, to defer to her man. How he had wanted her! He would never have hurt her. But he did.

He had been a witness to what had seemed at the time like proof of her falseness and that adoration he had felt had quickly turned to disillusionment. It appeared she had simply made a fool of him, playing the virtuous woman whilst taking a lover behind her husband's back - even thought she knew how much he himself had loved her already. It had been such a blow to his pride - but even more, it had made him feel like he could never be anything but a second class citizen in this world full of prejudice and injustice. It was because he was not white that she had rejected him. His brother was right. They treat us all like ignorant dogs, far beneath them when it is they who live in an empty culture of no moral structure.

His carefully built world had caved in; he had been stripped down to some essential part of his nature. And then he had opened a bottle of whisky and watched the dawn alone in this impersonal and alien land.

What happened next still seemed more like a nightmare than reality.

But he had done it - there was no denying that - and wronged the one woman who most deserved his protection. He saw it all clearly now, his terrible jealousy fuelled error. A good man - her old friend - had merely taken her under his wing, as any honourable men would do - and that was all that had been between them. His own lust and covetousness had done the rest.

Some days he wished he could rip his own heart out for the bestiality of his response. No matter how many times he swore never to touch alcohol ever again the fact remained in his mind that somewhere inside him was a man capable of raping a helpless woman.

How would he ever trust himself again?

Parking his car in an alleyway just off the avenue where Annie and her bodyguard had parked theirs, he leaned back and thought about how he might approach her. The bodyguard would intervene, so he would have to stay at a distance - perhaps shout and beg her just to let him apologise? It wouldn't make things better and he knew she would never forgive him but at least she would know that he was a man of some honour and would not shirk from his guilt. He had already told his lawyers not to counter-sue against Lapenti who had beaten him badly enough that he had spent the following  three nights' in hospital and was still bruised and limping.  The man had had  a right to act as he did and his punishment was scarcely sufficient to what he had done - he knew that the man could have killed him with his bare hands had he wished.

Just then he saw the two children skip round the corner and Annie following close behind. Despite himself, he smiled at her loveliness. Her slender body dressed in tight denims and a pale blue summery blouse made her look so young and girlish, her thick tumbling curls were tamed in a tight plait, her face was free of anything but the slightest touch of lipstick and her smile as she chatted to her children lit up her radiant eyes. She was still so beautiful to him.

Leaning forward to open the car door and address her, he heard a noise that made him glance up. In horror he saw several masked men surge from a white van, attack and bring down the bodyguard and then lay hands upon Annie and the children, throwing them inside the vehicle and accelerating away.

His initial instinct was to go and help, but good sense warned him that he would be unable to do any more than die. These men were experts. He glanced over at the man bleeding on the sidewalk - but he was dead or dying. There was nothing he would be able to do. Key in the ignition, he did the only thing he could...follow. He had to know where they were going. He must not lose them.

Driving with one hand, weaving through the pre-rush hour traffic, the white van kept a few cars ahead, he called his lawyer and asked for the number of TOL International. At first his lawyer wouldn't give it, warning him that any contact was prejudicial to his case.

"Give me the number or I will inform my father to withdraw our family interests from your company..." Moments later he had secured the number and made the call.

"Mr. Lapenti? Don't hang up on me. It's Amiruddin Al-Bakhti. Something has happened to Anna Thorne and her children. I think she has been kidnapped. I have the vehicle in my sight and am following it. Please...I need help...these men are very dangerous - they've killed her bodyguard...please, believe me...the car registration is....."

It was a relief to stand after kneeling for so long on the rough planks of the deck. The two men rose to their feet and now looked down on the others.

But they were still looking down the barrels of guns.

"Now...let me interpret where we are at the moment for you, Mr. Thorne, and you can tell me if I have this right. You are offering us weapons of mass destruction just at a time when we most require the use of them. How very fortuitous. You say you are able to secure them because of your contacts that were gained through years of intelligence and covert work for the British SAS, not to mention the links that you must have acquired in the somewhat murky hinterland of Kidnap and Ransom negotiations since then. You claim to be in this for money and are even ready to ditch your comrades if necessary. How very predictably immoral of you - it proves all we believe of the westerner. Most plausible, I agree. There is, however, one thing that leaves me to doubt the veracity of your offer...."

Terry blinked and sensed the tensing in Costello's body at the turn in the conversation; he also felt the sudden hostile atmosphere that permeated the entire company. Everyone was listening now.

"...I have read your dossier and researched your career at some length. It is fascinating material, I agree. The man revealed is a dying breed. A real hero. One of your good guys. The kind of man who rescues people he has never even met at the risk of his own life. How does a man with that background reconcile the image that you are trying to sell to me now?"

Terry smiled coldly. "So I got fed up of being the good guy. Fuck- what it this? My reasons are my own. Perhaps I got Allah one day and decided to fight for the cause?  I fancy the 87 virgins waiting for me in  Paradise...Who the fuck cares...?"

"...Not good enough. So I wondered about this and my doubts led me to consult someone who might know the answers.  And I found just the man. Now there is a man who would sell his own  mother - if the price were right. And sure enough this new friend of mine let me into a little secret...that Terrence Thorne and all his little friends are actually undercover working for the Australian Special Forces and think they are about to reel in the biggest fish of all...isn't that so, Mr. Costello? Wasn't that how you put it?"

For an instant Terry did not react and then the muscles in his face revealed the dawning awareness that his cover had been blown completely. This was a set up. There had been an inside man.

Costello stepped back and grinned that easy cocky grin that had been annoying Thorne ever since he first met him. "Something like that, yeah, mate... You're fucked, Thorne. Fucked. This is so sweet; I cannot tell you how good this feels. I've wanted you since the first day I met you, you fucking arrogant bastard. For years I've had to kowtow, yes sir, no sir, to the likes of you....and where did it get me? Six fucking months in the mountains of Afghanistan living like a fucking ANIMAL taking out those stupid witless bastards...all for what? Shit pay and not even public holidays off...." He broke off and burst out laughing..." and along comes someone like you and offers me the passport I've been waiting for...mate, you are so fucked..."

Terry looked from one to the other. "You fucking cunt...you fucking cunt...this is your own people who are at risk from the likes of these murdering bastards...you won't get away with it...They'll get you and..."

"Oh yes, I will get away.... Who's gonna know? When Nick Costello escapes by the skin of his uncircumcised dick and heroically brings back the news that all his mates were tragically killed in the line of duty...? By the way they're dead already, ya know? Anders...Hewitt...I took them out before I left the hotel. Knife. Nice and quiet...a little surprise for the cleaner...Now there's just you...and this one will be even sweeter..."

"Enough! Just kill him and be done with it...!" Abang placed a gun on the table and Costello took it. 

"Slowly...?" He checked the cartridge, ejecting it and then reinserting, spinning the gun like a gunslinger before thrusting it into Terry's groin, leaning close and shouting into his ear. "Your balls first? Watch you scream for your mother...?"

"I said enough!" Abang stood up. " Kill him or one of the others will...!"

Terry felt the men behind lay hands and brace him. Costello put the gun at his temple and began to squeeze on the trigger. 

"You'll get yours. One day...someone will..." he spat into his face.

Costello dropped the gun to his chest and fired at close range. The spout of blood covered the nearby men in a thick spray. They raised their hands against the arterial flow. Costello laughed and yanked the body that had already sunk to its knees and pulled it up by his belt. "Dead? Already? Jesus...you just got the same fucking blood in your veins as everyone else after all?"

With a heave he tossed the body over the side of the launch and watched as it floated face down, a red cloud oozing from it into the water. On the banks of the river, several crocodiles basking as if asleep immediately raised their heads and smelt the breeze. They slithered silently into the muddy water.

"And we don't even have to dispose of the body...perfect..." Costello grinned, rubbing his hands together and wiping the smear of blood from his face. "OK, mate... you got what you want. Let's talk about what I want now, you know....?"