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Chapter One

I sat and waited, wondering when someone would come for me. The room was small with nothing to look at except the bed and a single chair. There wasn't even a window. The light was always on but I knew it was night because it was cold, and I needed the coarse blanket they'd left me. I should have been trying to sleep but it was a waste of time. I'd only have been woken up every half hour as they checked that I hadn't somehow managed to escape. Difficult to do through a locked door, and there was always at least one of them on guard in the next room.

I was bored too. I'd been on edge earlier this evening, listening for any unusual sound, any sign at all of activity. That quickly grew dull as nothing happened. Nothing other than Neil sticking his head around the door every so often, never talking to me, hardly even glancing at me once he'd seen I was still here. And I was getting tired. Obviously, they wanted my captors to be tired too, maybe even to be a bit complacent about whether there'd be an attempt to get me out tonight. It had to be tonight. I couldn't stand it if this went on much longer.

So thank goodness it was only an exercise. We'd been on this damned base in the middle of nowhere for over three months and I was pining for Sydney. I'm no country girl. But Lawrence had decided training was what we needed and, besides, he hadn't had any assignments for us at the time. But once this exercise was over, we were going back to work.

Our little team hadn't been together that long and I had to admit he'd been right about the training being good for us, and for me especially. The others were all used to teamwork but I'd worked solo for nearly ten years and it was a pretty steep learning curve. We'd completed one little assignment together before he sent us out here, but it took a lot more than that for me to trust them. One of the original team members had defected to the AFM, and I found it hard to believe he would be the only one--what was to stop the others going criminal too? So it was hard work learning to rely on them.

Right now, we were in the middle of a fairly straightforward 'recovery' exercise with one of the SAS groups. They were regular military and supposedly the best we had. There were only five of us against eight of them, four of us if you excluded me, and, in theory, we shouldn't have had a chance. It would be interesting to see what happened because, in our favor, we weren't quite as 'regular' as them. The rest of my team may have had a military background, but it had been a long time since any of them had done much by the book. I'd only ever worked covertly.

And that was why, as usual, I got to be the victim. When I'd complained, Lawrence had simply told me that I was good at it. Totally believable. I was a wonderful actress, darling. And, as usual, I fell for it. I had no idea what my guys had planned, they'd just locked me in here, briefly explaining that my character had been kidnapped a month ago and an SAS team was going to attempt to rescue her tonight. How I behaved as the victim was up to me. They were the 'baddies', as it were. All four of them.

I leaned back more comfortably against the wall, pulling my feet up off the floor and tucking them under me to try and get them a bit warmer. I'd be right again once things started to get more active, but it was chilly sitting still.

We'd been driven out here earlier this afternoon, and had an hour or so to fill in before the exercise was due to start. It had been pleasant then, sitting idly in the winter sunshine outside the cabin, and I'd taken off my woolen jumper because it was too hot even though the air was cool. There hadn't been a mention of work stuff. The others had been completely relaxed, almost as if nothing was about to happen. They were back in their element, getting ready to disappear into the bush, doing all the blokey stuff I was so incapable of. But, as Lawrence kept telling me, they needed my skills too.

Neil had fiddled about with a radio for a couple of minutes but had soon grown bored with it, stowing it away under the bench. There was nothing for Dave or Joe to do. Stuart had already assembled their weapons, they'd all been checked and double-checked that the only ammunition they'd had were 'paint-balls', and that was about it for them.

Dave had finally stretched, looked at his watch, and announced it was time to get started. It was four o'clock and evening was already starting to fall. He'd looked across to me, "You right to go Sonya?" and I'd nodded and stood up.

"Yep. What are we doing?"

"You," he'd said, steering me by the arm, "are going to be locked up inside. We'll be on guard out here." He'd led me inside and pointed out my room.

"It's a five-star establishment." I was cheerful as he pushed me through the door. "So when do we start exactly?"

"Right now." His face hardened.

The door was firmly closed and I heard the key turning in the lock on the other side. Like me, Dave had done a bit of undercover work and it wasn't too hard for him to put on an act--at least for a little while. The others weren't so good at it.

I'd half-sighed before poking around the room for a few minutes, wondering if there was anything more interesting than what I'd seen in my first glimpse. Unfortunately there wasn't, so I'd settled myself onto the bed as comfortably as possible, and waited. And waited.

And I was still waiting several hours later.

It finally happened. A short burst of gunfire shattered the silence and I started upright, having dozed off despite the cold. The keys rattled in the lock. The door was flung open and Neil burst in, a rifle held awkwardly under his arm, his hands full of something black that I couldn't quite identify. I stared, rabbit-like, every inch the terrified victim, petrified in my spot.

"Move!" he snarled, and gestured to the chair. I wasn't used to seeing my gentle little Neil so aggressive--he was normally the quietest--it shocked me into moving without thinking.

"What's happening? What's wrong?" My voice quivered in time with my trembling.

"Shut up and sit down!" He flicked the chair into the middle of the room and I did as I was told, apparently mesmerized by the swaying gun in his hands.

Before I could move, he'd stepped behind me and pushed me roughly onto the chair. If I'd been playing myself, I'd have tripped him and had him caught on the floor by now--Joe had spent much of the last three months teaching me every dirty fighting technique he could think of--but I wasn't myself. I was a scared kidnap victim.

So I let him grab my hands and pull them behind me, binding them together with the thick black tape he was carrying. When I tried to twist them more comfortably, I found he'd attached them to the chair. I swiveled around wildly, trying to see what he was doing, and he cuffed me, very gently, on the ear. If it had been Dave, I'd have known about it; he'd have treated me exactly as if we really were the characters we portrayed. Neil just couldn't make himself do it.

Once he had me relatively immobile he relaxed slightly and I heard him putting down the gun, leaving both his hands free. I didn't have long to wonder about the other thing he'd been holding. He was in a hurry and had wrapped a length of black fabric over my eyes and tied it tightly behind my head within seconds. I couldn't even see a rim of light around the edges of the blindfold--he'd done a good job of making sure I'd have no idea what was going on. In character or out, being denied the ability to see what was happening around me made me feel vulnerable. And my guys knew that.

Bastards.

I felt him brush past me as he left the room. The door shut. The key turned in the lock. Then it was silent. Once again, I was waiting.

Since that first loud noise, there'd been nothing else to indicate what was going on. I was listening actively now, trying to follow events, but I still couldn't hear a thing. And I'd thought I was bored before! Now there wasn't even have a dull little room to look at. Nothing but my own thoughts, and they weren't all that useful. For a little while I considered attempting to undo the tape around my wrists. It wasn't what my character would do in the situation, though. She'd sit there, terrified, listening for any hint of what was happening outside, and worrying about what they'd do to her. So I sat there, listening, not at all terrified, but still wondering what they'd do with me. Also wondering which side would get here first.

I wasn't supposed to help on this exercise, and I wasn't to take sides other than where a real victim would. But I was still hoping my guys would win. When Lawrence had put the exercise to us, he'd seemed a bit worried about how I'd feel, effectively being left out of the team once again. I'd just shrugged and laughed. "It's their exercise. I'm only along on this one as the ballast!" I don't think he'd believed me, but I'd meant it. It was their exercise, and even though I wouldn't help them, I did want them to win. The SAS guys were arrogant and needed to be brought down a peg.

With nothing better to do to fill in the time, I let myself drift further into the role of terrified victim.

I was miles away, hardly paying attention at all, when I finally heard a sound from the next room. I couldn't place it, and was just starting to wonder about it when the door crashed open and several sets of boots pounded into the room. There was no talking. I had no idea who it was. I cowered into my chair, not wanting to know.

I'd more-or-less lived with my team for three months now, and was almost certain it wasn't them. I couldn't believe we'd lost so quickly. How embarrassing!

Every muscle in my body was rigid. What the hell was happening? When one of them finally spoke I jumped, not expecting the mild tone of the new voice. Gentle fingers touched my hair as they started to tug the blindfold off. I turned away, still not believing I might actually have been rescued.

"It's okay," the voice soothed, "We're here to take you home."

I tried to say something, but couldn't find any words. I just gulped uselessly, trying to hold myself together, half-convinced it was all a nasty trick. Then the blindfold was gone and I could see. There were three of them in the room, all wearing dark camouflage, and all armed to the eyeballs.

"Who are you?" I finally managed to speak.

No one answered.

The one who'd taken off the blindfold was cutting through the tape on my arms now, and he pulled me upright, supporting me under the shoulders while I rubbed at my wrists.

"Can you walk? Are you hurt?"

I was confused and didn't know whether to answer 'yes' or 'no'. "I'm fine," I said instead, and stepped away from him.

"Good. Then we need to go. Quickly." He left the room first, cautiously checking through the doorway before stepping out. One of them pushed me after him and, still in shock, I followed.

I could see exactly what the odd sound had been now. Neil was sprawled on the floor, a pool of red paint spreading across his back. It seemed some of the SAS team had crept up behind him. It looked like they'd shot him through one of the unglazed windows with a silenced paintball gun. He could only have been watching out one side at a time and probably hadn't even seen them. This was my first 'reality' exercise and it was all too real. Neil may have been uncomfortable about being rough with me; well, I was uncomfortable seeing him playing dead on the floor.

I stopped short, horrified, only two steps into the room. One of my guards was lying on the ground, blood everywhere, obviously dead. The soldiers around me seemed genuinely surprised at my reaction, and one of them pulled me forwards again.

"Don't worry about it. Better him than us."

I shook my head slightly, finding it impossible to tear my eyes away.

"But...but...he's dead!"

"Yes." The one who'd spoken gently before tried it again now. "He is. If we hadn't killed him, he'd have killed us. Or you. We had no choice." His voice was soothing again, and it had the opposite effect to what he'd probably hoped. I started to cry, a few tears trickling down my face.

"Oh, for God's sake! You haven't gone and fallen for your kidnappers or something have you?" It was the impatient one again.

I shook my head. "I've never seen someone dead before..."

"It's okay. You'll get over it. But right now we have to keep moving." He was trying to jolly me along now, and I went mutely where he directed me, waiting behind the door while they checked outside. Within seconds I was hustled out into the cold night air.

The night was as humid as it ever got out here, and I could clearly smell the eucalypts around us. The clearing we'd sat in this afternoon stretched right around the cabin and they were hesitant about crossing it. There should have been at least another five of them somewhere but I couldn't see them. Nor could I see Dave, Joe or Stuart. Maybe our side hadn't lost just yet.

I shivered, not having been outside for days. It was peaceful, but they didn't seem quite comfortable. The moon was up. I could see the trees leaning in, surrounding us, but not much else. I asked quietly, "What's wrong?" and was quickly shushed. It seemed ages that we stood there, just waiting, before I was finally pushed out into the clearing and led at a run towards the other side.

The silence was broken--violently--when we were about half way across. A mass of gunfire echoed out from the trees and a huge red stain grew over one of the soldiers chests. He fell to the ground right beside me but I kept on moving, automatically continuing to do as I was told until someone told me otherwise.

The other two were still beside me when I felt something sting my own arm and saw another stain forming just above my elbow. I grabbed at it, and held it, crying in pain, stumbling to a halt. One of them tackled me, knocking me to the ground, and I landed heavily on the same arm. I heard myself scream. The pain was intense. I had no idea what was happening.

I hadn't actually expected to be shot and wondered, rather academically, if that had been in the plan. The guy who'd knocked me to the ground was trying to make me crawl into the cover of the trees. They were only a few meters away, but I wasn't making it easy for him. I very much doubted that I'd have got up and crawled away if I'd really been shot--Rambo had a lot to answer for. So I stayed where I was, seemingly disoriented with pain, but actually watching what was happening with interest.

I didn't know who was amongst the trees, but they were doing a good job of holding the SAS down, and it wasn't until the gunfire stuttered to an end, out of ammunition I guess, that there was answering fire from somewhere behind. I saw Stuart's silhouette running along the edge of the trees, trying to find new cover, and couldn't help wincing as another burst of gunfire was aimed directly at him. He dropped from sight, but not until I'd seen him absolutely drenched in red paint. They were making very sure he was 'dead'.

Gradually, I became properly aware of what was happening around me. The noise was immense and I didn't dare raise my head. One of the men with me had been shot, and I thought the one who'd pulled me to the ground was somewhere behind me. There was pressure on my legs, maybe he was still lying on me? He was heavy, and I was uncomfortable, but it was hard to move and I couldn't really see him. I tried to kick backwards, to make him get off me, but there was no response. I kicked harder and finally felt him roll away. There was still nothing to tell me what he was doing. I twisted carefully, trying not to move my arm, and then wished I hadn't. His torso was bright red with blood, his eyes open and staring at the sky. Another one of them was gone. I had no idea where the third soldier was, he didn't seem to be anywhere in the clearing. Heartsick, I just kept lying in the dirt, hoping it would all finish soon.

I didn't care what was happening. There was nothing I could do about it anyway. I tried to cradle my arm, the ache was awful, and kept my face turned downwards. Everyone around me was dead, and I didn't want anyone noticing that I wasn't. Yet.

The silence was a shock, almost nerve-wracking after all the noise that had been echoing through my head for the last few minutes. And that was all it had been, a few minutes, if that.

Cautiously, I looked around to see what was happening.

The trees on the other side of the clearing rustled slightly despite the lack of breeze, and I screwed my eyes up trying to focus in the dim light. There was definitely movement but I didn't know who. Joe and David were still somewhere out there, I thought, but there were also a lot of SAS unaccounted for.

I was still watching the trees when two men reeled out of them, struggling for control of a knife. I could hardly see it, there was no flash of metal in the moonlight, but I could tell what it was by the way they were avoiding its blade. One of them was Joe, and it looked like he was winning. At least it did until I saw another shadow moving in the trees, creeping stealthily towards them. I desperately wanted to warn him, but I couldn't, and I looked away as the shadow turned into another soldier. Seconds later a single shot rang out. When I dared to look again, Joe was lying on the ground.

There was only Dave left now and I guessed it wouldn't be too much longer until it was all over. I guessed wrong.

I was still lying there, trying to hide in the middle of a flat, featureless clearing, when there was another single shot. Someone else was dead, I thought vaguely, numbed by the violence, and didn't lift my head.

It was quiet again--nothing moved--yet I slowly became aware of more people in the trees around me. I started to hope that maybe it was over now. I was even considering moving my head so I could actually see when hard fingers tangled in my hair and yanked my head upright, forcing me to look around. A silenced handgun was jammed hard into my neck. The shock of it made me drop my injured arm. A scream echoed around the clearing. Mine, I realized vaguely as I grabbed at my elbow, anything to take the weight off my injured arm. The pain had gradually dulled to an ache, but now it was back in force.

He dragged me to my knees, then changed his grip so he was holding me securely in front of him, trapped against his chest. The gun remained steady against my neck.

"Nobody move."

Well done Dave! I hadn't even noticed him making his way across the clearing towards me and, obviously, neither had the SAS. I knew he was good at moving silently through scrub, but I hadn't known he was that good.

I didn't move, almost enjoying myself now I was about to have something to do other than cry. There was dead silence from the trees. All the movement had stopped but it wasn't long before there was an answering shout from somewhere well out of my view.

"Let her go."

Not very original, I thought.

Dave didn't even consider obeying the order, raising his arm slightly and holding the gun more closely into my neck.

I cried out softly in pain, half-lifting a hand as if to push the gun away, but as swiftly lowering it as the gun was jerked into my throat.

"I'm taking her with me. If I see any of you move, the girl dies." He sounded so confident, hardly a crack in his voice to show he knew how outnumbered he was.

Impossibly, my fear grew even stronger. I knew there was a good chance it was going to happen. The girl was going to die.

But not yet. He pulled me the rest of the way to my feet and started to back slowly away, holding me as a shield. As soon as we reached the cover of the trees he increased his speed, yanking my arm to make me run. I couldn't do it. My arm hurt too much and branches were slapping into my face. He kept pulling at me ruthlessly, ignoring my crying, tugging at me when I stumbled.

And he was bloody rough. I could have made it easier on myself by helping him a bit more, but that would have been cheating. So I cried and I stumbled and I generally slowed him up when he was in such a huge hurry.

"Move, damn you," he hissed in my ear, tugging at me again.

"I can't," I cried, "I just can't."

Even to myself, I sounded pitiful.

He snarled at me, "Fine then. Have it your way!" and twisted slightly so he was holding me at an angle to him.

"Shut your eyes," Dave whispered in his regular voice, and I did as he asked without question.

I was glad I did. I heard two tiny pops, and felt the paint bullets hitting me at about the same time. As a large red stain spread across my chest I let myself crumple. He quickly lowered me to the ground.

In seconds he was gone, disappearing noiselessly into the scrub. The SAS guys weren't going to be too impressed when they found me. I kept my eyes closed and waited, muscles relaxed.

For once, I didn't have to wait too long. They were following quietly behind us, staying back out of Dave's sight as instructed. I imagined I could hear them approaching, but wasn't really sure until I heard a heartfelt "Shit!". There were a few of them gathered around me and I didn't move, maliciously letting it sink in to them just how badly they'd messed up. They hadn't caught the kidnappers and they'd been directly responsible for the death of the victim.

"You go and get him. Bring him back if you can, but I want him. I don't care how." One of them was giving instructions. His voice was soft. Vicious. I hoped Dave had got away, not wanting to think about how they might treat him if they caught him.

They left again, moving more quickly this time, less afraid of being heard. I still didn't stir, not sure if they'd all gone. Dave had dropped me on a branch and it was poking into my back. I'd give it another thirty seconds, I decided, almost certain now that I was alone.

If there'd been a roof above me, I'd have gone right through it when I was nudged in the ribs. Honestly, I thought I'd been left by myself.

"You can move if you want. They're gone." It was the one who'd given the orders to catch Dave who'd stayed behind. His voice was still soft, but it sounded fairly neutral now, so I opened my eyes and made myself a bit more comfortable, figuring there was no more point in playing possum, not until the others got back anyway.

It was dark with the foliage blotting out the moonlight. Even if he couldn't see me, he must have heard me move because he reached down a hand and pulled me into a sitting position.

"Thanks." I was still unsure about his mood and figured being polite was always a good thing. I didn't say anything else.

"Congratulations. You won."

I corrected him, "Not me. I wasn't on anyone's side."

"Bull!"

"Do you think it was my idea to kill the victim? I don't think so!" I wasn't happy with his attitude, especially after I'd worked so hard at not taking sides.

He relaxed again. "No. It probably wasn't." It sounded like he might even have been smiling. "You're quite good, you know."

"Gee, thanks." Just a little hint of sarcasm.

"What's your name?"

"Sonya." It was an odd conversation. "You?"

"Todd."

"Nice to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine, I'm sure." It sounded like his humor was quickly improving. This was definitely weird.

"So, how long do we sit here?" I asked.

"Until my guys get back. They won't be long." I didn't like his certainty, and was still thinking about it when he added, "Here they come now, better get back in position."

I lowered myself back to the ground, the blasted stick again digging into me, and closed my eyes, hoping I was close enough to where they'd found me. I felt Todd reach over and trail a long strand of hair across my face. I'd forgotten until then that he might have had night-vision goggles, and that was how he could see a little detail like my hair while I was nearly blind in the darkness.

The knowledge made me squirm uncomfortably. He must have seen every thought cross my face while we were talking. I hadn't bothered hiding anything; it was dark, I'd assumed he couldn't see me. Maybe that was why he'd actually believed in my tiny burst of anger.

They were approaching us quickly now, rustling through the dry leaves without worrying about the noise. They must have caught up with Dave, or they'd be moving quietly, still following him. I really wanted to know what had happened but I couldn't have seen, even if I'd opened my eyes, so I lay quietly, burning with curiosity.

"He's been caught." Todd leaned close and whispered into my ear, his breath warm on my face.

I nodded slightly, to show I'd heard and went back to playing dead.

Our tiny space was suddenly full of movement and noise. The SAS guys sounded relaxed now their mission was more or less over. It may have been a disaster for them, but at least they had Dave to show for it. I could hear them herding him towards us, and his protests, but he didn't say too much. He'd opted for discretion it seemed, well aware he was the only one available for them to take their frustration out on.

I lay quietly while I waited for them to sort out their next actions; the exercise wouldn't be over until we all reappeared back at the cabin. They were finally organized, Todd directing them to tape Dave's hands behind him. Two of them were constantly guarding him, holding him at gunpoint, and when he argued, refusing to comply, one of them turned their rifle around and knocked the wind from him, thrusting it abruptly into his stomach. While Dave doubled over, grunting in pain, the one with the tape bound his wrists, then secured his arms tightly to his sides. He couldn't move but could still swear, and I was glad night vision goggles didn't show full color. I wasn't easily shocked, but his language was more than enough to make me blush.

"Shut up," Todd ordered, looking sideways at me. Surely, he couldn't have noticed?

"And what are you going to do about it?" Dave was defiant.

"I'll gag you if you don't," he threatened and, sensibly, Dave said nothing else other than a few quiet mutters under his breath.

I'd watched them through half-closed eyes, not able to see much more than their shadows moving about. Dave could take care of himself, and I knew he was trying to judge just how far he could push them, but I was still worried about him. And seeing him so vulnerable, at the whim of others, was making my stomach churn. I was too used to him being the one who was looking after me. He was supposed to be invincible, and this was wrong, even if he was doing it by choice. I had a sneaking suspicion he'd let himself be captured because I didn't think they'd have managed it so easily, but I wasn't sure why. I wondered if my guys felt like this every time they saw me in a similar role? I hoped not, and had to remind myself that if I could act out the role of the helpless prisoner without feeling that I'd lost my dignity then, probably, so could he. I shouldn't be letting it get to me like this.

They moved out, one leading the way, then Todd who bent down and scooped me easily into his arms, followed by David with his two guards taking the rear. It was almost odd being held so close to a man I didn't know. Sure, I was used to my own group, but Todd was different. He was built along similar lines to my guys, broad and muscular, and I felt perfectly safe cradled as I was. Mind you, safe probably wasn't quite the right word. It's not like I thought he was going to drop me, it was just... well, he just wasn't Dave! I shifted slightly against Todd, uncomfortable with my own thoughts. The unmistakable--and not unpleasant--scent of camouflage paint drifted up towards me, stronger smelling than usual because of Todd's body heat.

It was a slightly more comfortable trip back to the clearing for me in that at least I wasn't having to walk, but Todd was carrying me loosely, like a rag-doll, my arms and legs hanging limply. They swung gently in rhythm with his steps, occasionally smacking into a tree-trunk or briefly getting caught up in the low scrub. At one point, my hair got tangled in an over-hanging branch, jerking my head backwards at an odd angle when he didn't notice. I tried not to tense but couldn't help it; it was the sort of sharp pain that brought tears to my eyes.

Dave was directly behind us, and almost walked into me when Todd stopped to pull my braid free. Dave glared at him, not breaking out of character, but whispered, "You okay?" to me in the instant his head was close to mine.

I breathed back, "Yeah," happier for the tiny bit of communication. The SAS guys couldn't possibly have seen anything other than Dave's sour expression, but one of them grabbed him by the collar, jerking him away from me. He was probably too close to Todd for comfort, and they weren't gentle in pulling him back.

We hadn't actually gone very far into the bush when I'd been 'killed' and it didn't take long to get back again. We emerged into a much busier scene than the one we'd left. Floodlights had been switched on, pushing the darkness well back into the trees and almost blinding us when we stepped out. I had my eyes closed, but could clearly see the harsh lighting through my eyelids. I heard them push Dave out of the bushes behind me, stumbling, then heard another heavy thud, like he might have been pushed right over, but I couldn't really tell. It felt like we were on a stage, and everybody was looking at us.

There were a lot more people here now. I could hear them, but didn't dare open my eyes until I positively knew the exercise was over. The first individual voice I recognized was that of Lawrence Low, our operations controller. I didn't recognize the other voice in the conversation, probably the SAS controller, but the scathing tones were unmistakable. The other team was in trouble.

"All right. We're finished." It was Lawrence calling it off. Thankfully, I opened my eyes and stood up, Todd bending slightly to lower my feet to the ground.

I'd been right about Dave. He was lying awkwardly on his side where he'd fallen, unable to get up until someone gave him a hand. I reached down to him, not trying to hide my rueful smile. "It's tough being the victim, huh?"

He wasn't exactly light and, before he could answer, my grip slipped. He dropped heavily back the ground. I'd only managed to drag him up a few inches but landing on his bound arms still must have hurt. He rolled his eyes skywards. "Yeah."

"Sorry." I tried to look repentant.

"Anyone else and there'd be trouble." He grinned up at me. "For you, I'll make an exception."

I grinned back, hoping I didn't look quite as goofy as I felt. It was just a throw-away line but I couldn't help myself. I likedDave. Okay, so I more than liked him...

"Can you give me a hand here?" I asked the world at large.

The SAS guys were closest but they totally ignored me, leaving me on my own to pull Dave to his feet. Lawrence had also heard. He was old-school and sent them a dirty look for making me, the only female present, do the heavy lifting.

Todd saw the look and jumped to my aid, brushing me aside. He even managed to cut through the tapes, pretending nonchalance, and brusquely shake Dave's hand before turning back to his own team.

Joe, Stuart and Neil had been watching from the other side of the clearing. They sauntered over as he left. Except for Dave, we were all sticky with the paint. He was rubbing his wrists, trying to pick off the last of the tape.

"Can we go?" I asked Lawrence. "I need a shower." I gestured to all the red stains and pulled a face.

He waved us off, continuing his conversation with the other controller, and we took ourselves to one of the vehicles, leaving the SAS team behind. While we were waiting for the driver to arrive, I looked around unsmilingly.

"And whose idea was it to kill the victim?" I thought I managed to sound genuinely serious. Apparently, so did they. They fidgeted and wouldn't make eye contact with me. I was practically busting myself trying not to laugh.

"Well?" I demanded.

Dave put his hand up, and grinned. "Guilty as charged."

"Bastard!"

Chapter Two

As we'd approached the base the sun had just been creeping over the horizon, sending a few cautious pink reflections onto the scattered clouds. Within a quarter of an hour, any semblance of a proper sunrise was gone and it was fully light. Out here, there was no mucking about. Generally, it was either dark, or it was light. There was no in-between. I missed looking out over the surf and watching the gradual change from night to day. Fingers crossed, we'd be back there tomorrow evening. Going to the beach would be one of the first things I did. I didn't want to swim, just to feel the exhilaration of the waves pounding on the sand and the wind flinging my hair about my head. It was too still at Flinders.

Since I'd been up most of the night I'd thought all I'd want when we got back to our barracks was to have a shower and drop straight into bed. But when it came time to do it, my mind was still racing. There was absolutely no chance of falling asleep.

Our barracks were a bit old-fashioned and they weren't very big, but neither were there ever going to be very many of us in the group. There was a small dormitory with a communal bathroom, a combined lounge and meeting room, a kitchenette, and a tiny single room with its own bathroom that was actually slightly smaller than the average broom cupboard. And it was all mine. Being the only woman in the group had some compensations.

Originally, Lawrence had wanted me to stay in the female barracks in the main complex but I was happy enough here. It also made it a lot easier for me to feel included in the team. The biggest down-side was lack of privacy and, really, I would have got that anywhere. It mainly meant that I'd got used to wandering around in relatively modest pajamas, rather than little slips of nothing, and that I was getting quite used to seeing the guys in their jocks. They weren't as discreet as me but it was probably a lot better than the average men's dormitory. Apparently, jocks were a huge concession to my gender. And what sort of fool would I have been to complain about all that wonderfully toned, naked male flesh being paraded in front of me?

I ambled out through the lounge room, hoping a cup of tea might help me wind down enough for sleep, and found I wasn't the only one still awake. All four of them were sprawled around the sofas, talking quietly so they wouldn't wake me up.

"No chance!" I answered when they queried if I'd been asleep. "I'm tired but my brain won't turn off."

They were pretty well all the same so I made my tea and joined them, half-wanting to take it back to bed with me but afraid of looking churlish if I did.

"So, what's happening? Anything interesting?" The conversation didn't appear to have changed much since I'd entered so I guessed it hadn't been anything too bad. I hardly ever noticed them treating me differently to each other, but they must have. I'd honestly never considered for an instant that Dave could swear like he had tonight yet, logically, having been in the military for as long as he had--he was ex-SAS himself--before changing over to the more covert stuff with us, he would have learnt to swear with the best of them. I'd just never heard it.

Joe answered. "Nah, not much. Just talking about tonight. You did good." He sounded approving.

"Thanks. You weren't too bad yourselves. I didn't think you'd hold them off for as long as you did."

He shrugged. "We were lucky."

"They were overconfident."

"Yeah, there's a bit of a problem with that bit," Dave joined in.

"Mmm?" I raised my eyebrows slightly. I was too sleepy to think about this seriously.

"Well, you know it was an exercise, us against them?"

I nodded.

"But Lawrence basically told us to make sure we won at all costs..."

I knew all this. "Yeah, and you did. You cheated, and it worked." Now it had happened, it was obvious they'd planned all along to kill the victim. That way, we'd win for sure. And the SAS team hadn't been expecting it.

"It wasn't really cheating. It's what a real kidnap gang may very well have done," Dave argued.

"Of course it was. But you don't sound too convinced that it wasn't cheating," I countered.

He looked slightly embarrassed. "It's just not how they do things. It wasn't really fair on them."

"And?"

"And they're going to be mad as all hell about it." Joe was unhappy.

I must have been missing something. "And this is a problem, why?"

Stuart tried to explain. "That particular SAS team, they're known as Group 8. And they have a reputation to protect. Any of us," he corrected himself, "them, can be pretty fierce about it, but Group 8 are the worst. I've come up against them before, when I was with another group. There was a huge vendetta started and it was still going when I left a couple of years later."

"So?" I must have been tired. I still didn't get it.

"They're going to be coming after us. There were only half as many of us and, even worse, they were shown up by a bunch of spooks."

"Spooks?" I couldn't help smiling. Of course I knew that's what we were called by the regular forces, but I'd hardly ever heard the term used.

"Yeah." They all looked glum. I was finally starting to understand it was serious.

"Is it really that bad?" I asked.

Dave answered me. "I could have got away from them easily. I let them catch me, Stuart and Joe let themselves get killed. We were hoping it might help ease the tension a bit if they'd at least achieved something. But it hasn't."

"How'd you know?" I was curious.

Neil looked like he was nearly asleep, and he answered without bothering to open his eyes. "I know one of their guys, did a computer course with him last year, and we got talking while we were waiting for you and Dave to get back. They were already mad as hell then, and they'll have got an awful lot madder since Dave killed you. They're gonna want our guts for garters."

I wished he hadn't sounded so confident. "So, we're in for a feud then, are we?" I asked.

"Looks like." Dave spoke to me gently. "And you're the one we're worried about."

"Me?" I sat up straighter in my seat. "Why me? I didn't even do anything!"

"We know that, but they don't. They're going to think you knew all along, and having a dead victim was the absolute worst thing that could have happened to them."

"Great." I was not impressed.

"And, um..."

"Spit it out," I commanded. Stuart was finding it difficult to tell me something else. How bad could it get?

"Well..." He was awkward. "You're the most vulnerable of any of us--smallest, weakest..."

I eyed him severely. "I am not a kitten!"

He tried to laugh. "I'm sorry, but it's true. If you had a choice of any of us, who would you pick on?"

Unfortunately, I had to agree with him. Joe and Dave were both heavily built. Joe was our combat expert so they weren't too likely to go after him. Dave specialized in protection and had already baby-sat me a couple of times when my jobs had got a bit dangerous. I was still here so he couldn't have been too bad at what he did. Stuart wasn't so obviously physical but it was deceptive. When you saw him without a shirt, you could see the power, particularly in his arms and shoulders. He specialized in weapons and there was a fair bit of heavy lifting involved. Neil was the anomaly. He was as slightly built as me, and was the only one of them I could actually beat in a wrestling match. And that was mainly because Joe had been giving me lots of lessons recently. Neil spent most of his time arranging the gadgetry and was more likely to watch events on a computer screen than to actually participate.

"Neil?" I suggested hopefully.

Dave smiled. "Good try. But if they really want to get at us, they'll try to get us emotionally involved. And, like it or lump it, you're the only girl. They'll pick you." He sounded depressingly certain.

I couldn't hold back the yawn, and tried to appear bored. "That's nice. What'll they do?"

"No idea." Joe was cheerful. "But they probably won't hurt you too badly. Because you are a girl."

"You'd noticed I was a girl?" I pretended surprise. "Well, girl or otherwise, I'm going to bed. If you're all going to start predicting doom and gloom, then I definitely need some sleep before it happens. Good night."

As I closed the door to my room, I saw them starting to head towards their own beds. They should have been even more tired than I was. But I didn't fall asleep straight away. I didn't want to let them know it, but they'd worried me. For all I complained and griped about it, I really didn't mind playing the victim when I was operating with them, and they knew that. Tonight certainly wasn't the first time I'd done it. I felt secure, and more-or-less trusted them. Dave definitely, the others mostly.

Heck, Dave and I had almost had a real date--and not just because we were playing a role at the time. I wasn't quite sure what had stopped us taking it further. I guess we'd both stepped back, perhaps because we knew it may have affected our working relationship. Still, I couldn't help thinking about him as potentially something more than just a friend. If he felt the same about me, he hid it well.

Whatever the reasons, I was comfortable working with my guys. But I didn't want to be the victim for real. And if Group 8 had that bad a reputation, overly competitive and sore losers, then I certainly didn't want to fall victim to them.

I slept soundly despite myself and was finally woken by heavy thumping on my door and a loud yell. I woke with a start, instantly confused and thinking I was still somewhere in the middle of the last exercise. As soon as I opened my eyes I forgot about that but the next thought followed quickly, even more worrying, and I was reaching for a gown before I realized it was only Joe outside, demanding I wake up to go for dinner.

"Are you ever planning on getting up, Sleeping Beauty?" he shouted again, "We're all starving out here."

I called back, "Go without me. I'll catch you up over there," and lay back down, trying for a few more minutes rest.

The door flew open and Dave poked his head around the corner. "No chance. You're not going anywhere without us. Remember?"

"Yes, yes." I was resigned to the fact they were going to mollycoddle me until we were out of reach of Group 8. "Then you'll have to wait." I sat up again and started to climb out of bed.

"Good girl." The door shut behind him.

I blew a large raspberry at the door but didn't get any response. He probably didn't want to risk having me change my mind.

We walked to the officers' mess in darkness, the street-lighting around the base pale after the bright sunshine. There was something very clear about the air here. It was semi-arid, not quite a desert, but it still felt like the light came straight through, uninterrupted by anything floating in the atmosphere. I'd read descriptions of the stars being bigger at night in the desert but hadn't believed it until I saw it for myself. Right now, they were absolutely huge, so bright they made the seemingly-larger planets appear quite dull.

"Would you look where you're going?" Stuart laughed as he caught me before I fell. I'd been so busy looking at the stars I hadn't noticed we'd already crossed the parade ground, and there was a step up over the gutter to get onto the road.

They'd looked and sounded fairly normal on the walk to the mess, but I'd noticed them watching the shadows more closely than usual and they'd kept me in the middle of the group, carefully out of reach. I still thought they were overreacting but wasn't going to bother arguing. They'd always win when it came to something like this.

We were fairly late for dinner, most people eating relatively early in winter. Since we had limited daylight, and were mostly working and training outside, it made sense to start with the sunrise and be finished before dark. Tonight, there were an awful lot of people still sitting around the tables when we arrived. Rather aimlessly, it seemed. But, as we entered it grew quieter and the general attention focused on us. Flinders may have been a highly restricted base, but rumors still tended to fly around. It looked like last night's exercise had made it into today's gossip.

I ignored it totally, and walked straight over to our regular place. There were about a dozen tables with space for eight at each. There were no designated settings but, like anywhere, people tended to congregate in the same place every time. Even the top table, the one reserved for the base brass, was still almost full. Lawrence was there, talking to the commanding officer, and he waved as he saw us enter. It wasn't long at all before he'd made his excuses and come down to join us.

"How are you? Congratulations!" He hadn't really seen us since last night other than the few brief words outside the cabin.

"Good, thank you Lawrence. Thank you for asking. What's happening?" I kept my face neutral, but my voice was amused.

He smiled. "Well, I hear that Group 8 are really annoyed with you. Really annoyed."

"Can you just define that 'with you' a bit better please? Do you mean they're annoyed with us--" I indicated the others with my hands, "--or with me specifically?"

"Both really. But mostly with you, I think." He looked around the others. "Are you keeping an eye out?"

Dave nodded. "We are. Haven't seen any of them yet."

It was true. No one from the SAS team was in the mess.

"Just be careful," Lawrence said. "If you can fly out tomorrow without anything happening, you've done well. Maybe it will just blow over." He didn't sound particularly hopeful.

I shook my head at him. "You too, Lawrence? Was I the only one who didn't know this was going to happen?"

"It might not have. You could have lost."

"Yeah right. That wasn't in the plan. You were going to kill me no matter what, weren't you?"

"Yep." Dave was honest. "But we were pushing our luck there for a little while when you stopped in the middle of the clearing."

I considered for a minute. "So it's my fault whichever way you look at it? If you hadn't been able to kill me, it would have been because I mucked it up. If I was killed, according to Group 8, it was all my fault they lost. Am I right?"

Lawrence smiled faintly.

"You should be ashamed of yourselves--all of you! Look what you've got me into."

Joe was blunt. "Better you than us. They'll be easier on you."

"Oh great! You all sound like it's a done deal. Are you even going to try and save me?" The answer was nothing but silence.

I leant back in my seat, brushing my hair back over my forehead in exasperation. "And I love you too!"

"Don't feel too bad about it. We'll pay your ransom." Dave tried to be soothing.

"I should hope so! And that wasn't actually the question! Just you make sure that you at least look like you're trying to help me." The answer had been obvious, so I just looked severely at Stuart and Joe instead. They were by far the worst actors in the team.

"We'll make a valiant effort..." Joe began.

"Just shut up, would you."

"It had to be done, Sonya," Lawrence explained, not realizing I'd already accepted it. "We had to demonstrate to them that they were getting arrogant, they wouldn't believe us otherwise. I could have sent one of the other SAS teams to do exactly the same thing but then we'd be in for a real vendetta. You're not so precious about your reputation. You can back down now, and let them win this next round."

"Who said?" Joe was indignant.

"Joe..." I warned, "You'll do as you're told," hoping he actually would. I sighed, just a little bit theatrically. "So what happens next? After dinner I mean."

"I would think we'd go back to the barracks as normal," suggested Stuart.

"Exactly." Lawrence nodded.

"And all these people?" I nodded around the crowded mess.

"I think there may be one or two witnesses to events..."

"Great!" I hammed it up, lowering my head into my hands, then resting it on the table. "Just great!"

* * *

"I hope you're wrong about this," I whispered to Dave as I paused to pull my jacket on before walking out the door.

"Do you think they're all wrong too?" he asked, swiveling his head back towards the small crowd gathering behind us. Everyone who'd been sitting around the tables had suddenly decided it was time to go.

"No, but I hope it's one of you they choose!" and I positively flounced out the door. I didn't really wish it on them, but it didn't hurt to make them wonder. Group 8 probably would be easier on me than on any of the guys. But it was still only a 'probably', not a certainty. As a general rule, they didn't like spooks of any kind, male or female.

It had grown chillier in the hour we'd been inside and I was glad of my heavy coat. If we'd been in the mountains we'd have been crunching our way through frost, but it rarely formed out here. It was too dry.

Once again, I was protected in the middle of the group as we walked back over the parade ground. It was totally exposed. There was nowhere for anyone to hide but it was also so open that there'd be nowhere to run. If I were Group 8, this was where I'd be planning to attack. I still didn't know what normally happened in this situation. The others were more aware but they weren't sharing their knowledge with me. I wondered vaguely if they were trying to protect me from something, or if they were trying to scare me. I was leaning towards them scaring me, figuring they'd be thinking the SAS group would maybe take pity on a scared girl. Or maybe not. I wasn't so sure about how gentlemanly they'd be. Especially if Lawrence was right about them being pissed off with me. Or was Lawrence trying to scare me too? I gave up on trying to work out what was going on and decided to just take things as they happened. Maybe they'd all be wrong and nothing would happen, or at least nothing would happen to me.

Wishful thinking, really, and I already knew it before I heard the running footsteps charging out of the darkness towards us. There were at least three of them, and I felt myself pushed roughly away from the guys and slightly off to the front by myself. But that was it. They seemed to be gone.

It was nearly pitch black out here, far from the street-lights, and I considered whether I should run. I breathed in deeply, ready to sprint, and had taken the first few steps, heading away from both the barracks and the mess, wanting to disappear into the darkness towards the edge of the base, when I felt movement near me. Stupidly, I hesitated, thinking it was one of my own. By the time I'd realized what I'd done, it was too late and someone had grabbed me by the shoulders, pulling me backwards. I still couldn't see them and had no idea how many people were around me. No matter what everyone had said, I wasn't giving in that easily. That was unrealistic. I may not have had much chance, but it couldn't hurt to at least try. At least, I hoped it wouldn't hurt.

I kicked viciously backwards, connecting the heel of my boot with his knee but he hardly even flinched. He was holding me high up on my arms, and I had enough flexibility to reach behind my back and grab at his clothes. I drew him even closer, probably not what he was expecting, then pulled my whole body downwards as hard as I possibly could. He was bigger than me and I had a lot more chance of getting away if I could get him on the ground. I managed it, too.

He was far enough off balance that he tipped forward, automatically letting go of me to free his hands and slow his fall. It was quick, but I was expecting the tiny opportunity and it gave me time to slip out from under him and start to run. I heard him throw himself after me, felt him grab at my ankles. But he missed.

I kept running, aware it had been too easy, and that I wouldn't get the opportunity twice. I hadn't heard much other movement around me and wondered what was happening.

A single torch beam stabbed across the parade ground, probing the darkness until it fell on me. I slowed, temporarily blinded. I had no idea where I was heading any more, and wished I'd just kept going. Several men, all in black, were looming up from the darkness. All of them were aiming for me. I picked what looked the most likely gap and tried to run straight through them, but it didn't work. The two I'd tried to squeeze between turned in towards me, one of them diving to tackle me around the legs, dragging me to the ground.

Common sense told me to give up, but I didn't. My arms were still free and, while I had the slightest chance, I figured I may as well keep trying. I bunched my legs together and thrust them backwards as powerfully as I could. I heard him grunt, I must have got him somewhere, but he didn't let go. I was trapped, lying on my stomach, my legs held tightly down, but it didn't stop me attempting to trip the other one. As he approached from the front, I grabbed his ankle and yanked, wanting to pull his feet from under him. It actually worked, but I still couldn't free my own legs so I couldn't get away.

He rolled over, ignoring my attempts to hit him, and caught hold of my elbows, one at a time. With two of them holding me down I wasn't going anywhere, but they still weren't totally satisfied. I was manhandled onto my back, the one who had my legs sitting astride my thighs, and the other one dragging my arms up above my head and pressing them firmly to the ground. In almost any other situation I'd have been horribly embarrassed to be pinned between two strange men like this. But there was nothing the slightest bit suggestive in the way they held me; they meant business.

I struggled against them ineffectually, knowing I was wasting my energy, until I saw Todd appear out of the darkness. I recognized his voice, rather than his face. It was hard to identify anything behind the all-black clothing and charcoaled faces.

"Lie still," he ordered, and I ignored him.

He squatted down beside me and placed his thumb gently at the base of my throat, letting it rest lightly in the little depression there.

"Lie still," he said again. "If I were you, I'd be pretending to fall unconscious right about now, otherwise I'll knock you out for real." His voice was soft, belying its coldness.

I stared up at him, considering. I hadn't seen or heard from my guys since this started, and I already knew they wouldn't be doing anything that might add to the feud.

"Well? What are you going to do?" he demanded, pushing his thumb threateningly further into my neck. It was already uncomfortable and the extra pressure made me feel slightly sick. I closed my eyes in submission, indicating I'd do as ordered, and relaxed. I hoped the others wouldn't think he'd really knocked me out, it probably looked suspiciously realistic and they must have been able to see clearly with the light still aimed steadily at us.

"Good girl." He removed his thumb. "We'll get on fine if you do as you're told. If you don't..." He left the sentence unfinished, more threatening for not spelling out the alternative.

They didn't hang around. The two who were holding me down may have released their pressure but they didn't quite let go of me altogether. They apparently weren't going to trust me that much. The one who'd had my arms bent down and lifted me over his shoulder into an uncomfortable fireman's lift. I'd left my hair out tonight, not expecting anything like this, and it hung down his back in a long curtain, reaching well past his waist and nearly to his knees. I let my arms dangle where they fell, to all appearances unconscious as ordered, but peered cautiously out from under my hair, trying to see what else had been going on.

The crowd from the mess appeared to be gathered in little groups around the edge of the ground, quietly watching what happened. It must have been fairly boring for them, I thought, especially at first, as they couldn't have seen much at all unless they'd had night vision glasses. But then, probably, quite a lot of them did.

Dave, Stuart, Joe and Neil were standing in a tight group, their hands clasped behind their heads, about forty meters away so it looked like I'd run a reasonable distance before I'd been caught. They were surrounded by several other SAS, all standing a sensible distance back, and all pointing rifles loosely in their direction. I assumed we were still running on the 'paint-ball' rules for this unofficial rematch, and I understood now why I'd been left to fight them off by myself. Once I'd been separated from my group, they'd been herded together and not been given the slightest opportunity to come to my assistance. I doubted if they would have anyway.

Then we were off at a jog, heading across the parade ground, me bumping painfully into his shoulder at every step. Once we were underway I heard Todd shout back to them that they knew where to find us when they were ready to negotiate. I could see their guards still standing motionless around them, then we'd melted into the night and I couldn't see anything else for the darkness.

My guys may have known where we were headed but I had no idea, never having been into the area where the SAS were based. They were even more secretive about their training than everyone else here, and visitors were firmly discouraged.

Group 8 appeared, like us, to have an entire block to themselves but theirs was much larger and a lot newer. The lights flicked on as the door closed behind us and I'd been dumped on a long lounge before I'd thought about what I should be doing next. I landed on my back with a thump, my hair half covering my face, and it took me a few seconds to catch my breath and orient myself. I lifted both hands to push my hair from my eyes but was caught by the wrists before I could clear it. I tensed but didn't try to move, not knowing what they'd do now.

It was Todd again. "If you behave, you can have free run of the barracks. There are guards outside, so there's no point in trying to escape. If you don't behave, I'll tie you to the bloody bed and you can stay there until your spook-friends get themselves organized. Do you understand me?"

I nodded and said, very softly, "Yes." His grip on my wrists tightened slightly, then he let them drop. I tried again to push my hair out of my eyes, before sitting carefully upright, still slightly dizzy from hanging upside down.

I felt very disheveled, and fiddled about straightening my clothes and patting down my hair while I considered exactly how I should be behaving. Not too subdued, I decided. Why would they believe that after I'd put up a fight about being caught? But I shouldn't be too confident either. Todd's threats could have sunk in, making me a bit timid. But I was still a professional, and I assumed they'd be expecting me to behave like one. I had no idea if they knew exactly what I did for a living, but it was unlikely. After eight years of infiltration, usually for several months at a time, I could put on an act at the drop of a hat. That was why I always got to be the victim when we were training--I was believable. So, time to be believable again.

"What happens now?"

"We wait." They were relaxed, comfortable in their home territory, and a couple of them had started to strip off their outdoor clothes and to wipe the black from their faces.

I sat back on the lounge, watching them move quietly about their business, wondering how many of them were outside.

"I thought there were only eight of you?" I ventured after a while.

"That's right." It was Todd again. He seemed to have been elected as spokesperson.

"There's what, six of you in here?" I asked, concentrating on getting it right. "I thought I saw four of you around my guys, and I assume there's more guards than that outside?"

A couple of them smiled, and Todd laughed briefly. "Hey, she can count!"

"There's no need to be nasty about it. I was just asking," I replied calmly.

"Yeah, you're right. A couple of the other groups are helping us out. It's not just us who were unhappy about last night's exercise. There'd be about twenty of us out tonight."

"Fair enough."

"That's it? Fair enough?" He sounded genuinely surprised at my lack of reaction. "Aren't you even a little bit annoyed with us?" I shrugged, and he tried again, "Or how about your guys. The cowards didn't even try to help you out," he baited me.

"You get that." I was emotionless.

He shook his head and went back to stripping off his black gear, replacing his heavy jacket with a lighter shirt. The jacket had more pockets than jacket and I asked, curious, "What do you keep in all the pockets?"

"Stuff," he answered as he finished buttoning his shirt, then he turned to look at me shaking his head slightly again. "Don't you know?"

"No. Why would I?"

He looked confused. "But your guys are all ex-SAS aren't they?"

"Mostly," I agreed. "But they don't share everything with me, you know."

"Apparently." He finished getting dressed and I glanced at his insignia. I could see now why he was the one doing all the talking.

He perched on an armchair opposite me, and eyed me thoughtfully. "Did you know they were going to kill off the victim?" he asked.

"No." I was calm, and sounded sincere.

"Mmm." He was non-committal.

"Any chance of a cup of coffee?" I asked. I still hadn't attempted to move from my place on the lounge.

"Kitchen's over there." He nodded towards a door at the end of the room and watched without comment as I stood up and headed in that direction.

"Anyone else?" I asked neutrally. There were a couple of shaken heads, and everyone was looking at me. "Todd?"

"If you're offering."

"I am. Anyone else?" I repeated. This time there were a few nods and one of them stood up languorously, stretching, and followed me through the door.

"I'll give you a hand," he explained when I looked at him in question.

So far, I seemed to be doing fine, but I wasn't sure just how long it would last. They weren't prepared for my calmness, or my acceptance of the situation, and were probably wondering when I'd snap under the strain.

It was quiet for a while, and I'd finished drinking and rinsed my cup before he started to question me again. I didn't know if this was part of the routine, and decided they didn't need to know very much at all.

"You're a bit different to them," he commented after a while.

"Different to who?"

"Your team."

I shrugged. "We all have our own roles."

"What's yours?"

"Weapons," I lied.

"Really?"

"Yep."

He picked up his discarded jacket and pulled a small handgun out of one of the pockets. He flicked it open, checked it was empty, and tossed it across the room to me. I caught it and glanced at it incuriously before tossing it back.

"What's that?" he asked.

"A gun," I replied seriously, and several of them laughed.

"Weapons, hey?"

I shrugged.

"So what do you really do?" he asked.

Without batting an eyelid I answered again, "Weapons."

"Right." He snorted disbelievingly. Which I could understand. I couldn't actually tell the difference between a Sten and a Bren. I was an average shot because I'd had to learn, but I had no idea what I was using half the time. So long as I could load, aim, fire and clear, it didn't really matter all that much to me. I didn't have much need to carry guns. That's what Dave was for.

I tried to get some information again. "I've not been involved in something like this before. What are you going to do with me now?" I didn't sound the slightest bit concerned, and I half-imagined Todd was looking at me with a little bit of admiration. I guess they really hadn't expected the girl to be so calm.

"That's up to you and your team, really," he answered. "They should visit fairly soon," he glanced at his watch, "to negotiate your ransom. I doubt they'd be dumb enough to try and rescue you. They certainly didn't do much to stop us getting hold of you." It sounded like he disapproved.

"Not much of a team, you think?"

"No. We'd have tried if it had been one of our guys. Why didn't they?" It sounded like he really wanted to know.

"Maybe they didn't actually care?" I suggested.

He changed the subject. "You fight fairly well. I didn't expect you to."

"Thanks. I've been practicing." I left it at that.

"Joe been giving you lessons, has he?" he asked innocently.

"He has."

Todd explained, "We were in the same unit for a while."

"Fair enough."

He was staring at me again, still not able to work me out, when a soft alarm rang through the room. There was no panic, but there was instant movement. Two of them walked swiftly across the room, wedging themselves into the sofa to either side of me, pressing tightly against me, and the others stood up and spread themselves around the walls.

Todd turned to me, his face suddenly hard. "They're on their way. I expect you to make them understand how helpless you are here, and how badly we're treating you."

"But you're not."

"No. Let me put it to you another way." He was patient. "Like back outside, it's your choice. I can really treat you badly, or you can just let them think I have. Which do you want?"

This was hard. I certainly didn't want them getting rough, I was quite happy as we were but, in loyalty to my team, I couldn't let them think Group 8 was doing something they weren't either. I let Todd see the hesitation in my eyes and he made my mind up for me.

"Tie her."

I started to object, but the men to either side simply held me down, arms caught behind my back, while one of the others wrapped a length of the ubiquitous black tape several times around my arms, running from my wrists to my elbows. That left my arms crushed awkwardly into my back, my shoulder muscles already protesting about the odd angle they were sitting at. Another loop of tape was tightened around my ankles and I sat there, fuming at the indignity.

"Sonya?" I looked up to where Todd was standing, quite close now. I hadn't noticed him moving across the room. He held two lengths of black fabric in his hand, one short and one long.

"Do I have to gag you?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Good. I don't want to, but if you say a single word," he paused for emphasis, "I will."

"I said 'no'," I repeated, more forcefully this time.

"I know you did," he answered, and walked away.

Chapter Three

There was an abrupt knocking, then the door swung familiarly open without waiting for a reply. I'd expected David and that's who it was. He walked confidently in, completely ignoring his burly escort. He looked around the room, spotted Todd and went directly to him, hand outstretched.

"David Knight. Here on behalf of our team."

So far, he'd hardly even glanced at me. I just sat quietly, waiting to see what would happen. It wasn't like I had that much choice anyway.

Todd returned the offered handshake. "Todd McGirr, Group 8."

Dave was relaxed. He looked like he'd done this a hundred times before, and didn't seem the slightest bit worried by how many of them were lounging around the walls. I supposed it was reasonable confidence; there was a sort of gentleman's agreement that you didn't touch the negotiator.

He finally looked over to me, squashed on the lounge between my captors, arms angled back uncomfortably, and sneered. "You're looking after her then?"

"Yeah." Todd eyed him carefully, waiting for him to react.

"Good." And that was it. He turned away. "What do you want?" I let my face fall, any semblance of hope gone, and then as quickly forced myself to appear calm again, making sure they could all see exactly what I was thinking. I didn't really know what Dave was doing, but he seemed to be treating me as a pain in the rear, rather than a valued team-member. I figured I may as well play along, and made sure I looked resigned to his attitude. Maybe he was thinking he could get the ransom reduced if Group 8 thought my guys didn't give a stuff about me.

"You're not going to ask after her at all?" Todd's voice was mild.

"Personally, I couldn't care less what you've done to her. The only reason you caught me was because the stupid cow," he inclined his head towards me, "slowed me down so much."

Dave's tone was worse than his words, and I turned my head away. It hurt more than if he'd walked straight up to me and slapped me. I tried to look brave, but couldn't help my lower lip trembling and my eyes growing moist. Carefully, I'd turned my head to the side where Todd would have the best view of my reaction.

"What a team spirit." Todd was disgusted.

"Why would we have that?" Dave asked. "She was dumped on us, we never asked for her. She's bloody useless. Have to spend half our time looking after her. It's worse than having a baby on the team."

The tears started to roll down my cheeks now. It was a handy gift, being able to cry on command.

"You see!" Dave pointed out my tears. "Hopeless!"

I started to shake, trying to ignore his insults, and turned on him quietly. "You're horrible." My voice was clear, if soft, and I shook my head gently.

"Sonya..." Todd warned, drawing his finger across his lips. The sign language was unmistakable.

Dave was scornful. "Baby!"

"Do you think I want to be stuck with you, either?" I asked, my voice dull. "It wasn't my idea to spend all my time with a bunch of, of," I struggled for a suitable insult, "muscle-headed misogynists with more testosterone than brains!"

"Bitch!" Dave flung back.

"Sonya!" Todd was warning me again, but I ignored him, knowing exactly what I was doing.

I was apparently growing angry now, beyond the point of reason. This had been a few insults too many, and in public too.

"You're an idiot! I only did what Lawrence told me to do, you just need someone else to blame for your own inadequacies...You're not exactly good at moving through scrub you know--a herd of baby elephants would have been quieter!" I half-struggled to my feet, wanting to argue with him at eye level, and seeming to have forgotten about the tape around my ankles. I was pulled back down, and held still. I turned my anger on them instead. "Let go of me!"

While I was struggling, I saw Todd pass the black cloth to one of the other men who'd been watching the live soap-opera with interest. He nodded and crossed the room towards me, but I took care not to notice.

Dave was laughing nastily, suggesting that maybe he should just leave me here, and when I opened my mouth to spit a reply back at him, it was stuffed full of the cloth, the long piece of fabric wound around my head to hold it in. I was furious, and swore at them, the words totally indecipherable. Even Todd was amused.

"Mind your language! Ladies shouldn't use words like that!"

He was rewarded with another apparent burst of anger, but it was short-lived, the men to either side leaning on me until I was quiet.

"Now, sit there nicely," Todd commanded me, "or I'll lock you in the other room and tie you to the bed again."

I sat still, my anger still obvious but at least under control.

"I don't mind if you want to get rid of her. She doesn't have to be here while we talk," Dave volunteered, easily believing I'd been secured in another room up until just now.

I gave him another nasty look, and even Todd was exasperated. "While she behaves, she stays. It's her future," he said. "Now, to the ransom..."

"Yeah. What do you want?" Dave was all business again, and hardly looked at me for the rest of his stay.

"An unconditional written admission that you cheated, and an apology for the same. It's to be posted on the main notice board." It didn't sound like he expected any argument, and he was surprised by Dave's reply. So was I. I'd expected him to give in immediately and get this over and done with.

"Nope. No can do."

"What?"

"We didn't cheat, so why would we apologize? And especially not when everyone will see. We've got a reputation to protect too you know." Dave was inflexible.

Todd couldn't hide his surprise. "You're kidding?"

"Nope." He shook his head. "You'll have to think of something else."

"What if I say 'no'?" Todd countered. "Don't you want Sonya back?"

"Not particularly. I wouldn't be here now except that Lawrence doesn't know about our problems."

Todd was lost. Apparently, this wasn't how it was supposed to happen. "What do you suggest then?"

"Double or nothing." Dave's voice was flat.

"Explain yourself."

"A real competition, and official, us against you. None of this stupid exercise stuff either, and open to spectators. Then everyone'll know who the best team is."

"What areas?" I could see Todd calculating, figuring out what his team would definitely win.

"Unarmed combat, target shooting, and assault course." Dave already had it worked out. "The best of your team verses the best of ours, best of the three wins."

"Okay, but what about the ransom? The chance for a real competition isn't enough to pay us off."

Dave explained, "I said 'double or nothing'. If we win, we get to take her back--" the distasteful expression on his face showed that he didn't really care about that bit, "--and if you win, you get to keep her for a day. Slave labor."

That was nasty, and I struggled upright again, trying to protest through the gag. Especially since I knew damn well that I was going to lose either way. They'd throw the competition if they had to, the whole object was to let Group 8 win to avoid a feud.

Todd was looking at me, deciding if he'd accept Dave's offer or not. "She obviously doesn't agree." He nodded towards me.

"Who cares? She's the one who went and got herself caught. She can put up with whatever she gets. Besides, who said we're going to lose?"

Todd nodded. "All right. We'll accept your offer."

They spent a few minutes discussing details then Dave left, gone to get a written permission for the competition to go ahead. If I knew Lawrence, and I did, he'd make sure it went ahead tomorrow as planned, and probably first thing in the morning. He'd be trying his hardest to make sure there was a definitive end to it all tomorrow.

It was quiet, and the room seemed emptier without him. Probably because Group 8 had relaxed again and were no longer standing up, looking threatening. I was left alone on the lounge, still bound and gagged, and very uncomfortable. I twisted and held my arms out mutely to Todd when he looked over to me, the request clear in my eyes. He just stood there, considering again. I gave up and slumped back into the lounge, closing my eyes. It was my own fault anyway. I'd chosen to trust Dave's judgment and gone along with him. If I'd done as Todd had asked, I wouldn't be in this position.

I didn't open my eyes again until I felt the fabric being unwrapped from around my head. It had made my mouth dry even though it hadn't been there for very long, and I croaked when I meekly asked if I could please have a drink. A glass of water was provided and Todd held it to my mouth himself. I sipped it gratefully, sitting up straight, then let myself fall back against the lounge.

I looked up to him again, a little bit encouraged. "Is there any chance of untying me? You can have no idea how uncomfortable I am."

"Do you think I care?" His voice was harsh, but I didn't believe it this time. Dave's attitude seemed to have made Todd soften to me.

"Please?" I was reduced to begging, but if that was what it was going to take...

"Same rules as before, then. You get the run of the barracks, but only while you behave."

"Thank you."

He approached me with a knife and cut carefully through the tape on my arms and legs. My shoulders were already so stiff it hurt when I tried to straighten properly, and I winced as I tried to rub some movement back into them. Todd finished picking the last pieces of tape off my sleeves, then walked behind me. He surprised me, kneading my shoulders to try and help.

"Relax," he ordered. He was right, I'd tensed when he'd touched me. Unlike the soldiers who'd sat on me in such a business-like--if suggestive--manner outside, Todd's touch was personal. It was by no means unpleasant and, in any other situation, I may even have found myself attracted to him. All this chopping and changing was confusing me so I made a conscious effort to loosen my muscles and enjoy the massage. He was firm, pushing deeply, but I was also very tense. That was something I couldn't have hidden if I'd tried.

I wished Dave had pre-warned me about what he was going to do. The stress of not knowing was worst. He should have known me well enough by now to know I could act my way through anything--he didn't have to set me up like that.

"What sort of time-frame are we looking at now?" I asked, stretching like a kitten when he finally stepped away from me.

"Probably not too long. Depends on how much trouble he has convincing the powers-that-be to let us go ahead with what we've agreed."

"Do they need to know?" I was honestly puzzled by the sudden shift. I could see that this sort of retaliation was accepted, if not officially condoned, by authority and that they simply turned a blind eye to it so long as it stayed within reason. I reckoned even the commanding officer might have been watching the parade ground this evening. But I couldn't see why they were now waiting for approval for the re-match.

"It makes it all official," Todd explained, "And there's no come-back from the losing group if there are impartial judges. Even if your group had accepted making an apology, the bigwigs would still have found out when it was stuck up on the notice board."

"And when they know it's all been resolved, man to man, without interference, then they're happy?" I suggested.

He nodded. "You got it. They need to know it's over."

"Would you really have accepted just an apology as the ransom?" I asked.

"Yeah, but they wouldn't have. Too humiliating."

I'd been wondering why Dave hadn't accepted it as the ransom, but sort-of understood now; Group 8 might not have believed in it if it had been that easy.

"But you were surprised when he refused?"

"More at his attitude than his answer."

I nodded understanding and wandered around the barracks for a while, not really settling to anything, before daring to ask the other question no one had so far hinted at. "What happens to me now?"

"Usually, you'd get released back to the custody of your group, and they'd be expected to ensure you turn up on the day." His eyes crinkled as he grinned. "Unless you'd rather stay with us, that is?"

I smiled back. "I would, but I think that might not be a smart move on my part. It'd just be more ammunition for them to use against me."

"So are you going to tell me what you really do? I'm curious."

I looked at him, weighing up his discretion, and gave in. "I'm an analyst." I was partly telling the truth. When I'd been based at Chifley Tower in Sydney between jobs, I'd done a bit of analysis for whoever needed it. And even though others did the research, I still tended to have a lot of autonomy in deciding what was important in my own assignments.

"What's so bad about that?" Todd couldn't see why they'd dislike me so much.

"I get in their way," I explained. "They're all action men, and I've always tended to be more desk-bound. Besides," I was mean, "they feel like I'm telling them what to do when I decide the direction our assignment's are to go in."

"And they don't like it?"

"You could say that."

We were interrupted by the alarm ringing softly through the room again, warning us that Dave was approaching the barracks. Todd led me back to the same lounge as before and they all resumed their earlier positions. I didn't bother arguing when he re-taped my arms and legs--I knew he wanted Dave to believe I really was being harshly treated. He wasn't to know I'd been free for the past hour or so.

"Do you actually think this'll make him feel sorry for me?" I asked.

Todd shook his head. "Not really. But we've a reputation to uphold." He grinned down at me. "If anyone ever finds out that I have my moments of being a big softie, then I'll be coming after you."

"Yeah, sure." I grinned back, but let it fade when I saw him weighing the black fabric in his hand. "Do you have to do that?" I pleaded, not taking my eyes from the fabric.

He hesitated. "I don't want to hear a word from you, not even one!" He looked straight at me. "No matter what he says."

I closed my lips exaggeratedly and shook my head, raising a smile from several of them. I'd tended to forget they were there for a lot of the evening. They just blended quietly into their environment and, apart from the two again squeezed in beside me, they'd mostly left me to Todd.

Dave strode in and got straight to business. "Here's the permission. We're doing targets at seven. Assault course then unarmed combat are to follow directly after."

"Have you decided your team yet?" Todd was equally efficient.

"I'll do the assault course, Stuart Kent the targets, and Joe O'Mally the combat. You?"

"We'll discuss it later and let you know in the morning."

David was disgusted. By letting them know our team in advance, he'd given them a better chance of fielding the winning team. But, rather than taking it out on them, he turned to me. "I see you haven't managed to lose her yet." He tried to provoke me. "I wouldn't have taken away the gag if it was me. Who'd want to listen to her?"

True to my word, I ignored him and kept my mouth closed.

"Tamed her, have you?" he goaded again. "Maybe we should try tying her to the bed when she annoys us. It seems to have worked for you."

It was hard, but I bit my lip and didn't reply.

"You have!" he crowed. "I didn't think it was possible."

Todd stood up. "Leave her alone."

For a minute I thought he was going to tell Dave they'd keep me overnight, but he didn't. He came over to me, knife in hand, and started to slice through the tapes on my ankles.

"You can take her back with you. Make sure you deliver her to the range in the morning." His voice was hard.

"Don't worry about it, I'll take her how she is." Dave was being purposely cruel and, if he didn't watch himself, I could see Group 8 setting their sights on him next. None of them were comfortable with his behaviour. Even though I knew it wasn't real, it was hurtful; no wonder they were unhappy.

Todd was still on his knees and he paused, looking up to me. My fingers were clenched, I was obviously mad, but I'd kept my temper under control this time. I thought I saw the apology in his eyes as he shrugged and said, "Whatever," before standing and pulling me upright. I was pushed across the room to Dave, stumbling over the mat, but no one made any attempt to help me. I landed on my knees then fell sideways, catching my weight on my elbows, before Dave swore at me, and grabbed me by the upper arm. He yanked me up and drove me outside in front of him. I still didn't say a word but, by now, I was practically biting my tongue with the effort of staying quiet.

As soon as we were through the door, I felt my deal with Todd had expired and I hooked into Dave, calling him names and demanding he remove the tape. He just laughed nastily at my anger and pulled me after him. There was a vehicle parked outside. He shoved me in, not making any attempt to untie my arms. We were still arguing loudly when we pulled up outside our own barracks a few minutes later and he bundled me straight inside, letting the door slam behind us.

We kept squabbling, more quietly now, while Neil checked that all the blinds were securely closed, and the windows shut. Finally, he gave the all-clear.

"About time too!" I complained, holding my wrists out to Stuart. He'd scrambled to find a knife as soon as I entered, but hadn't dared to cut the tapes until he was certain there were no witnesses. I knew Dave had assumed we'd have been followed back, and there were probably still SAS guys hanging around in the darkness, just watching to check that everything was as they expected.

"I'm sorry?" Dave suggested hopefully.

"Stupid cow?" I asked, "Baby? Slave labor? Tie me to the bed would you?" I let my voice rise slightly as I repeated each insult, until I was nearly shrieking at him, then suddenly let it fall to normal tones. "Tamed me, huh?" I was more threatening for my calmness and I could see the others cringing. They wouldn't have heard much about what had gone on yet, and were unmistakably shocked.

"You should talk!" he countered. "I wouldn't have thought you could use the sort of language you threw at me--and you didn't even blush!"

"You're right, I didn't. Besides, I only just learned those words from you last night--I don't even know what half of them mean!"

Dave went red. He probably hoped I'd forgotten what he'd said when he was caught by Group 8.

"I'm sorry." He actually sounded like he might have meant it this time. The others were still watching us, afraid to get involved and decidedly unsure about how genuine our fight was. I could tell even Dave was confused. He'd expected me to drop the angry act as soon as Neil confirmed there was no one from Group 8 watching. Because I hadn't, I'm pretty sure he'd started to think my anger was real, that I hadn't realized what he'd been doing. How dumb did he think I was?

Desperately trying to return things to normal he walked up to me, arms outstretched, to offer me an apologetic hug. I accepted, holding my own arms out to him, and let him step in close. Before he could touch me I punched him, as hard as I could, in the stomach. He wasn't expecting it and stepped back, winded.

"Bitch!" he swore with genuine feeling.

"You deserved it. You have no idea how much my shoulders are hurting and it's all your fault. Have some of your own back!"

"Um, guys..." Joe was exceedingly cautious about interrupting us.

I turned to him nicely, it wasn't his fight. "Yes?" Dave was still bent double, several paces away from me and didn't answer.

"What happened? You seem rather...angry...with him."

"Well, darling, David here has treated me very poorly. As usual." I emphasized the last few words, hoping someone would finally understand. I pointed at my ear, finding it hard to believe I had to spell it out for them like this.

Neil's face suddenly lit up. "Oh," he said and hurried out of the room. He was back within seconds, one of his gadgets in his hand. As soon as he started to sweep it up and down over my clothes, the others understood. I'd thought there was a good chance Group 8 would have planted a bug on me, possibly suspicious of us, but probably just to see what other information they could find. And they had. There was just the one and it was tiny. It had been dropped into my shirt pocket at some point so the easiest way to get rid of it was to put my shirt straight in the washing machine. The listening device would be water-proof but they wouldn't be able to hear anything from within the depths of the machine, nor would it make them suspicious.

Once I'd got rid of the shirt and replaced it with a clean one things were much calmer, and I felt it was my turn to apologize to Dave. "I'm really sorry. Did I hurt you?"

Dave shook his head, annoyed with himself. "Actually, yes." He rubbed at his stomach. "Did you have to make it so realistic?"

I shrugged. "Yes." I was a bit awkward now. "I, um, I'm not really mad at you, you know."

He looked at me carefully for a while, apparently trying to judge my mood, before stepping closer and placing an arm companionably around my shoulders . "I know," he said, "but you had me worried there for a while."

"Sorry." I meant it.

"I'm sorry too. I really was horrible to you." He looked embarrassed with himself.

I smiled. "But it worked."

"Yeah. It did." I didn't tell him I thought it may have worked too well, and that he was likely to have half of Group 8 after him, personally. There'd be time for that later. For now it was enough that the ransom had been reduced to something reasonably acceptable.

"Yugh!" Joe interrupted us. "Can you stop being so disgustingly nice all of a sudden and tell us what happened? We weren't all there, remember?"

"True," I agreed, "So I'll do you a deal. You make me a cup of tea, and I'll tell you all about it. But I want to know who came up with the slave labor idea." No one dared to answer and I laughed at their suddenly worried expressions. "You guys are going to owe me for this--big time!"

Joe squirmed uncomfortably. "They'll let you off easily," he explained, "especially since they think we've forced you into it. If it was one of us, they'd work us into the ground...It's been done before..."

"So?" I asked mischievously. "Do you think I would have cared?"

* * *

Next morning arrived too soon for me. I wanted to stay curled up in bed for an awful lot longer than I'd been able, and the seven o'clock start at the range was very uncivilized to my way of thinking. The good humor I'd found for this entire ridiculous exercise had completely disappeared. Bloody men and their egos! I didn't want to be here but I'd made it on time, despite my grumbling, escorted by the entire team. Group 8 was already there, and had set the targets, so we were ready to begin.

Target shooting isn't a good spectator sport. They were shooting at 300m and we couldn't even see the rings clearly, let alone where the bullets hit, so I sat down in the shelter of the range officer's hut and tried to avoid the wind. The sun hadn't been up long and the ground was still cold, but there wasn't much choice. Dave, Joe and Neil were standing closer to the firing line, out of the way so they wouldn't disturb the shooters' concentration, but close enough to get a better idea of what was happening. I wasn't that excited about getting the results, so I sat by myself, knees pulled up close to my chest, and tried to get warm. I'd much rather have stayed in bed.

It was quiet out here with no spectators other than our two teams. That had been the reason for the early start; people moving around would have been distracting. After a while, and a bit more time-out, I got used to the fact I was here for the day, and started to pay more attention. Stuart and Group 8's competitor had shot a few practice rounds, then gone straight into the real match, firing ten rounds at a precision target. It didn't take long. As I watched, Stuart laid aside his rifle and stretched, waiting for the other shooter to finish before moving away from the firing line. A final shot rang out, then they were both standing up and the range officer had closed the range and walked up to retrieve the targets, Stuart and the other guy trailing behind.

Everyone else was standing around, not very far away, and the anticipation was visible. I joined them, looking up the range to watch their reactions as they pulled down the targets. Stuart was relaxed, confident in himself, and talking animatedly to the range officer. The SAS guy looked nonchalant, but a little tense. Like everyone else, I watched for the first change in their body language.

The targets were pointed out, compared, and counted. I could see it happening in the distance, step by step, but there was still no indication of the scores. Then they were shaking hands, and walking back towards us. Stuart was as relaxed as ever, the SAS soldier's mouth was tight. That was all we had to go on, and it was enough.

"Who is it?" Dave yelled as they came close.

"Round One to the Spooks," the range officer called back, his face expressionless. "Stuart shot a possible."

You couldn't get a better score than that, and he had every right to his confidence.

"Good." Dave was pleased, and I smiled too. At least it looked like there was some chance I'd get out of working off my own ransom, even though I knew we'd purposely lose the next two rounds if we had to.

"There're another two rounds to go--you haven't won yet," Todd answered him.

"No," Dave agreed, "You're right. But at least we're one step closer than you!"

I shushed him, wanting Group 8 to stay in a relatively good humor for purely selfish reasons, and he scowled at me, telling me to mind my own business. We were bickering again for their benefit, but it wouldn't be so nasty today since Lawrence was here. As Dave had told them, he didn't want Lawrence to know there were any problems within the team.

The assault course was about a kilometer away from the parade ground, and covered quite a large area. It was something I'd never wanted to do once I'd finished basic training, and I still didn't feel any great need to try it out. This course looked a lot more difficult than the beginners course I'd learnt on. And unlike the shooting, there were plenty of spectators lined up along the edges.

There was all the usual stuff--walls and scramble nets to climb, wire and pipes to crawl through, tires and water traps to run across, and ropes and towers to dangle from--all things I certainly didn't want to know about. Dave was our entrant, and he was up against a soldier who was in peak fitness, at the height of his training and at least five years younger. He said it himself, he didn't have a hope of winning, but he'd put up a good fight. He'd run the course a couple of times a week while we'd been here, just to keep in practice, but that was it. There'd never been any particular pressure to complete it at speed, but they were racing today.

"Would you like a handicap start?" Todd offered sweetly just before they started, and it was probably just as well I didn't hear Dave's answer. Todd was going to run the assault course himself, having said it was only fair that the team leaders faced off against each other. No one bothered to tell him there was no single leader in our group. It would be an interesting race.

And it was surprisingly even. Dave pushed himself hard to make it a reasonable competition, and Todd had to work for his victory. But he still crossed the finish line at least twenty meters in front. I'd wanted to cheer them on at the end but kept quiet, not wanting to make a public display of support for Dave. When he came back over to us, I didn't congratulate him on his effort, which had been spectacular considering how long it had been since he'd done that sort of training regularly, but I couldn't bring myself to condemn him either. I settled on just letting the disappointment be obvious in my face. He ignored me altogether, and I walked by myself to the final competition in the gym.

I was almost there when someone came up behind me. It was Lawrence and, even though he smiled when I greeted him, I could tell he was worried.

"How are you doing? I heard what they negotiated...did you actually agree to that?" He looked at me quizzically.

"Oh yeah, right, of course I agreed!" If he missed the sarcasm, he was beyond stupid.

"And are you okay with it?" He was serious now.

"Do I have any choice?" I sounded bitter, then saw his expression and laughed. "It's okay, I was just having you on. They were fine last night, they'll be fine today."

"Were they?" He sounded disbelieving.

"Would I lie to you?" I asked, then continued quickly before he could think too hard about the answer. "They were fine. I wasn't hurt, and they were almost gentlemanly--especially considering what we'd just done to them in the exercise."

Lawrence still looked unconvinced.

"Don't try and interfere," I told him. "You asked us to sort it out and that's what we've done. Just let us finish it off as planned, then we fly out tomorrow, only a day late, and you don't have to worry about it any more. It'll all be over."

"But..."

"I'm here by choice Lawrence. They didn't have to force me to come out here today." I tried to be firm, which was difficult considering I didn't particularly want to be here, and I still hadn't completely forgiven the guys for dumping me in it the way they had.

"Does that mean you're actually choosing to spend time in our company?" Todd's voice was teasing behind us. I hadn't heard him approaching.

"You haven't won yet!" I replied tartly.

"No. But we will."

"If you'll excuse me..." Lawrence had spotted the commanding officer and hurried away to speak to him, leaving Todd and I in reasonable privacy.

I smiled at him. "Actually, your company's not too bad. But whoever you've put up is going to have to be very good to beat Joe."

"He is." He was still confident. "So, aren't you wondering what we're planning for you this afternoon?"

"Not really." I acted indifferent, and he laughed.

"Sure you are!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Really!" I huffed, then asked, "Are you going to tell me then?" secretly wanting to know.

"Nope. My lips are sealed."

I sighed dramatically. "Then why did you offer to tell?"

"I didn't, I only asked if you were wondering."

"Cheeky sod!"

He smiled knowingly, "I've heard that you know much better names than that..."

"What, did you hear me abusing David after we left last night?" I asked laughing, then paused, apparently horrified. "You didn't listen, did you?"

He answered obliquely, suggesting, "I think you should check the pockets of your shirt when you get home tonight. You never know who's been listening."

"What did you put in my pocket?" I asked resignedly.

"Just check your pockets when you get home," he repeated.

I made sure he could see the knowledge spreading across my face. "It was a listening device in my pocket, wasn't it?" I demanded, sounding cross.

"I'm sorry, but I wasn't sure if you were for real. It was so nasty last night. Almost unbelievable." He hesitated. "But we heard it keep going well after you knew we couldn't be listening any more." Then, almost as an afterthought, "Did you actually hit him?"

"Yeah."

"And he didn't hit back?"

"There's no point in hitting someone unless you do it hard enough to incapacitate them," I explained.

"So I should be more careful of you then?"

"Nah," I glanced up at him, "I promise I won't hit you unless you start treating me like Dave does."

He raised his hands in mock horror. "There's no chance of that ever happening!"

We walked into the gym together, clearly relaxed in each others company, only to be greeted by an unsmiling Dave just inside the door. He glared at Todd and took me by the arm, to all appearances leading me to a spot with a good view. Only Todd knew I didn't have much choice in the matter. If I'd protested it would have created a scene, and that was the last thing any of us wanted. So I went where I was steered, actually quite pleased to be back with my own team, but making sure Group 8 thought I was totally annoyed with Dave.

Joe was already in the center of the floor, talking quietly to the referee and the SAS competitor. He was slightly taller than Joe, but not quite as heavily built, so I thought they should be relatively well-matched in size. Joe had the benefit of longer experience but, again, he was up against someone who was at peak fitness.

It wasn't a long competition, over in about ten minutes. The rules had been agreed on prior to starting and neither of them were pulled up for breaking them. Joe's skill was evident from the beginning as he always seemed to come out unscathed, no matter what the other man did. But, over time, he appeared to tire until, eventually, a particularly strong lunge knocked Joe's feet out from under him and he was held to the mat. He struggled against it fiercely, but the SAS soldier was able to keep him down and, finally, Joe's neck was exposed and the soldier gripped it, showing he was in a position to perform a more deadly maneuver. That was the signal to end the match and Joe relaxed. Group 8 had won.

I kept my face expressionless, knowing there was about to be a lot of attention on us. I wanted to commiserate with Joe, I'd watched him let several opportunities of winning pass early on in the match, but he'd dragged it out to make it appear a better fight before letting the other guy trip him. I knew it had to be done, but still felt very sorry for him.

An announcement was being made over the loudspeakers and I looked up, listening along with everyone else. It was the official results.

"The results are: spooks one, SAS two, with Group 8 the winning team. Congratulations."

I didn't look at my team. Lawrence may have believed they wouldn't worry too much about their reputation, but I bet this really hurt. I looked at the floor, embarrassed for them, and also for me.

People started to trickle out, the entertainment all over for the day. It was for them anyway. I stood still, watching the movement around the exit, and the number of people congratulating Group 8 on their victory. We may have been accepted on the base, just a part of the furniture, but we weren't regular military. And everyone else was. It was understandable that the support had been mostly for them, but it was still hard to take.

David had his back to the door, and he'd stayed close to me through the match. I could see him clearly now, and he was struggling to hide his disappointment. He'd known we would lose ever since he suggested the competition, the actuality was something different.

He looked at me, and mouthed "I'm sorry," so quietly I didn't hear the tiniest whisper of sound.

Todd was approaching, going against the flow of people, and I didn't dare answer. I kept my face still, and looked straight over Dave's shoulder towards him.

"Are you coming?" and Todd held his hand out to me, more an order than a request.

"Of course." I didn't glance at Dave again, but walked past him, ignoring the sympathetic look Joe cast my way as we passed him. I didn't hesitate, pretending confidence as we walked outside. And, for once, it was all pretence. The way I felt right then, I'd have preferred to eat slugs than leave my own team. It was the first time I'd really felt the ties of the team this strongly, and I didn't want to go.

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