Temple

At first he thought it was another ramming from one of the caimans. But it wasn't. No, this time the whole car had shifted laterally. It was moving. Moving…

Downstream.

Oh, God, Race thought.

They were being carried downstream by the current of the river!

'This is not happening,' he said.

At that moment there came another, more familiar jolt as one of the caimans rammed the left-hand window again.

“Come on, Gaby!' he yelled at Lopez's feet as they dan gled inside the right-hand window in front of him.

By this time, the caiman in the front seat seemed to have realized where Race and the others were and it began to shuffle clumsily backwards so that it could leap over into the back seat.

Race saw it move.

'GabyV

'Almost there…' Lopez called back.

“Hurry up!”

Then suddenly, Gaby's feet disappeared out the window and Lauren yelled, 'She's clear, Will!' and Race leapt for the window, poked his head out through it and saw Lauren and Gaby standing on the roof above him.

The two women quickly reached down and grabbed his hands and hauled him out of the car not a second before the caiman in the front seat clambered over into the back and snapped angrily at his outward-moving feet, missing them by millimetres.

Back in the village, Nash, Copeland and the six American soldiers were all sitting—handcuffed—in the safety of the all- terrain vehicle, watching the nightmare outside unfold, when suddenly the sliding side door of their armoured vehicle was wrenched open from the outside and a blast of rain and wind swirled into the interior of the ATV.

Two soaking Germans hurried in through the door, their mudsoaked feet clanging on the floor of the vehicle. They shut the great steel door behind them and abruptly there was silence inside the ATV once again.

Nash and the others just stared at their new companions.

A man and a woman.

Both were sopping wet, and both were completely covered in mud. They wore civilian clothes—blue jeans and vhite T-shirts—but with a twist: both wore black Gore-Tex holsters and compact Glock-18 pistols on their hips. They both also wore navy blue bulletproof vests. Their appearance screamed: undercover cops.

The man was burly, strong-looking and barrel-chested. The woman small but athletic, with short peroxide-blonde hair.

The man didn't waste any time. He walked straight over to the Americans and began unlocking their handcuffs.

'You're not prisoners anymore,' he said in English. 'We are all in this together now. Come, we must save as many of the others as we can.'

Race, Lauren and Lopez were standing—stranded-on the roof of the Humvee, as the whole Humvee-Huey combination drifted awkwardly downriver, caught in the current.

Just then Race saw the rickety wooden jetty about ten yards away from them, downstream. It looked like they would float right by it.

That was their chance.

The Humvee-Huey lurched again, sank lower in the water. At the moment, the Humvee's roof was about a foot above the river's surface, while the Huey's was a little higher. But for every yard that the two vehicles moved downriver, they both seemed to drop a couple of inches.

It was going to be close.

Very close.

They edged another yard downstream.

The caimans began to circle.

Eight yards to the jetty and water began to seep onto the roof of the Humvee and under their feet. The three of them stepped up onto the rotor housing of the Huey.

Five yards away.

Sinking fast.

From atop the Huey's rotor housing, Race looked out over the floodlit village.

It was deserted now, the only movement the occasional feline shadow that darted across the main street. There was no sign of human lifel None at all.

It was then that Race noticed it.

The all-terrain vehicle was gone.

The eight-wheeled tank-like ATV that had been holding Nash, Copeland and the Green Berets was nowhere to be seen.

Race spoke into his throat mike. 'Van Lewen! Where are you?'

“I'm here, Professor.'

'Where?'

'Couple of the Germans opened up the ATV and unlocked our cuffs. We're doing a circuit of the village now, picking up anybody we can find.”

“While you're at it, why don't you swing by the jetty in about thirty seconds.”

“Ten-four, Professor. We'll be there.'

Three yards from the jetty, and the Humvee's roof went completely under.

Race bit his lip.

Although they were now standing on the exposed rotor housing of the Huey, they were still going to have to step across the submerged Humvee's roof to get to the jetty.

'Come on, baby, stay afloat,' he said.

Two yards.

The Humvee's roof went six inches under.

One yard.

A whole foot under.

Lauren looped an arm underneath the dazed Gaby's shoulders.

'Okay, kids,' she said. 'Listen up. I'll take Gaby first. Will, you bring up the rear. Got it?'

'Got it.'

The Humvee-Huey came alongside the jetty.

As it did so, Lauren and Gaby leapt off the rotor housing of the Huey and splashed down onto the submerged roof of the Humvee—their legs dropping knee-deep into the water.