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"No sense in waiting for death," said Fairweather. "Better to make a fight of it. You wouldn't happen to have a spare gun on you?"
"I could use one too," added Hopper.
Pitt handed Fairweather the machine gun. "Sorry, except for my automatic, it's all I have. There are plenty of weapons topside, but you'll have to snatch one off a dead Malian."
"Sounds like good sport," boomed Hopper. He gave Pitt a mighty slap on the back. "Good luck, my boy. Take care of Eva."
"That's a promise."
Fairweather nodded. "Nice to have known you, old chap."
As they went up the stairway together into the fight above, a female medic rose from a wounded man and waved for Pitt's attention.
"How does it look?" she asked.
"Prepare for the worst," Pitt answered quietly.
"How long?"
"Captain Pembroke-Smythe and what's left of your team are making a last stand. The end can't be more than ten or fifteen minutes away."
"What about these poor devils?" The medic indicated the wounded strewn on the floor of the arsenal.
"The Malians won't be showing any compassion," Pitt answered her heavily.
Her eyes widened slightly. "They're not taking prisoners?"
He shook his head. "It doesn't look that way."
"And the women and children."
He didn't answer, but the pained look of sorrow written on his face told her the worst.
She made a brave effort to smile. "Then I guess those of us who can still pull a trigger will go out with a bang."
Pitt gripped her by the shoulders for a moment, then released her. She smiled bravely and turned to pass on the dire news to her fellow medic. Before Pitt could step over to where Eva was lying, he was approached by the French engineer, Louis Monteux.
"Mr. Pitt."
"Mr. Monteux."
"Has the time come?"
"Yes, I'm afraid it has."
"Your gun. How many shells does it carry?"
"Ten, but I have another clip with four."
"We only need eleven for the women and children," Monteux whispered as he held out his hand for the weapon.
"You may have it after I've taken care of Dr. Rojas," Pitt said with quiet firmness.
Monteux looked up as the sounds of the fighting above came closer and echoed down the stairway. "Do not take too long."
Pitt moved away and sat on the stone floor beside Eva. She was awake and looked up at him with an unmistakable expression of affection and concern. "You're bleeding, you're wounded."
He shrugged. "I forgot to duck
