'Not essentially.'

There's an overweening confidence, as I've told you, in our own ability to look after ourselves. There could be a chance, somewhere along the line, for me to cut and run.

'You're an unusual man,' Trotter said.

'They broke the mould.'

'I would of course be tempted to accept your offer, Mr Locke; but there's no telephone here, and that would mean risking exposure in the street. And you'll give me the information I need in any case, and the name of the mysterious "element." They've made great advances in the field of psychiatric drugs, and unless you're willing to speak of your own volition, Dr Chen will induce your full cooperation. When I have what I need, he will ease your passage to the hereafter. There is of course no question of pain, except my own.' The reflection of the lamps behind me made a spark in each of his dark intelligent eyes; there was nothing I could see in them, no hostility, no enmity, perhaps if anything a hint, yes, of pain, reluctance. 'What do you say? Will you speak freely?', We'd come down to the wire rather fast and the sweat glands were reacting and I could feel the old familiar heat of adrenaline in the blood.

'I can't,' I said, 'without London's okay. I really mean that. Neither of us is joking, is he? There's so much in the balance. All I need is a telephone.'

He turned away for a moment, had his back to me, and the muscles pulled tight and I was set to go, already in the zone where all the mind has got to do is say yes and stand back and let it happen, the targets selected and different now because he'd got his back to me, a chudan mae keage to the coccyx to paralyze the legs and a heel-palm to the occipital area to produce concussion and deaden the optic nerve, but it still wasn't the answer: the organism had simply noted the chance when the opponent had turned his back, that was all, it had had enough training, God knows, to do things without being told.

Go for him.

No.

It's you or him and he's exposed, he's-

I think we can get London in if I work on him.

Kill him for God's sake before he kills you-

Shuddup.

It's his life or-

Bloody well shuddup.

Turning back, Trotter was turning back.

'You'll really have to listen to me,' I said. 'I can't offer you more than the mission, and it'd work, you'd get him through to Beijing.'

He didn't answer for a moment. His face had changed in some way, his eyes, his expression, because of whatever he'd been thinking about, I suppose, while he'd stood there with his back to me. There was a softness about him, and it worried me.

In a moment-

'My dear fellow, you still don't understand. I appreciate your thinking, but there's nothing you can offer me. It's for the taking.'

And then- 'Are you a Catholic, by any chance?'

Said no.

With hesitation- 'I thought you might, perhaps, be willing to give me… absolution.'

It was a moment before I got it. Absolution for taking my life.

'What the fuck are you talking about, I'm not a priest.' Shocked him, did me good. 'And if I were a priest I'd damn you to hell.'

Do you know what a rattlesnake does when it injects its venom? It's partly of course to paralyze the prey, to kill it, but it's partly to digest its body. I mean it's to start the process of assimilation, to soften and prepare the tissues. I suppose other snakes do it too, cobras, for that matter, but I happen to know rattlers, lived with them for a bit. But isn't that awful, don't you think, for something to start digesting you before you're even dead? It gives me the bloody creeps.

'I understand your feelings, of course,' his voice very quiet.

'You bloody well don't.'

There'd been fright in his eyes, I'd noticed, when I'd talked about damning him to hell. He took his faith seriously, perhaps I could work on that. I didn't like him now, forget the compassion bit, this bastard had started digesting me.

He didn't say anything more, looked at the Chinese and gave a little nod, and Chen started getting things ready, breaking a needle out of the packet and pressing it onto the syringe, and I didn't like that, I was beginning to wonder why Trotter hadn't made an honest approach, come to me earlier and put it on the table and tell me his ambition was the same as my own, instead of dodging me like a bloody espion and setting me up for an interrogation thing under the needle and then the final insult, what had he called it, easing your passage to the hereafter, bloody hypocrite, meant kill me, kill me like a dog and hadn't got the guts to say so, but there was this thought above all — I was prepared to believe he wanted to get Xingyu Baibing into Beijing but for the first time I was beginning to question why.

It wasn't necessarily for the benefit of his beloved Chinese. He could be selling Dr Xingyu Baibing down the river in some way, and I didn't like that, Xingyu was mine, he was under my protection, he was the whole of the mission, Bamboo, and I didn't trust this man anymore, this man Trotter, and he went down but he'd seen it coming and swung away, very fast for such a big man, took only half the weight of the strike and was still conscious, shouting the place down, and I didn't have time to follow up with the killer because they were in here now, three of them, coming at the double with their guns out and I took the first one head on and heard the bone go, heard the bone go driving upward into the brain and he screamed very briefly and then it was cut off as he died, the second one coming but I wasn't quite ready because the whole weight of my body had gone into the strike and the momentum was still trying to carry me forward and I needed to recover, wasn't correctly set up-

'Zhua zhu ta! Bie kai qiang!'

Trotter, shouting again as the second man came at me and I did what I could, broke his arm but it didn't stop his momentum, his gun went clattering across the floor but he wouldn't have used it anyway, none of them could, Trotter wanted a live brain lying there under the needle and they knew that, he would have told them, instructed them, one of his hands trying to get a grip on my triceps and I smashed a hammerfist down but the target was too insensitive and he hung on and another man began locking my legs at the ankle and all I could do was try for an eye gouge and got it half right, got another scream but it didn't mean anything useful, they were hanging on me like dogs on a fox, Trotter's face somewhere above me, blood shining on it because I'd raked the skin open with the strike, his eyes frightened, because if he lost me now he'd lose the whole thing, tried one more strike, a strong hiji-uchi with enough force behind it to break whatever it hit, but it didn't connect because I was on the floor now and Trotter was up there, huge, dripping with blood, while they wrapped something around my ankles and he lifted me by the shoulders and they took my feet and between them they laid me on the blankets, on the plinth where I'd been before, got in a quick tiger-claw and drew blood again but technically it was ineffective, simply an attempt to save face.

They held me down, the three of them, Trotter and the two surviving Chinese, while Dr Chen broke open the top of one of the little phials and wiped it with an alcohol swab, from habit I suppose, there wouldn't be time for me to get any kind of infection, would there, the head throbbing a lot now because one of them had opened the wound under the bandage when we'd been milling about, I watched the Chinese, Dr Chen, as he pushed some air into the phial and tilted it and began suction with the plunger, they've made great advances in the field of psychiatric drugs, I could believe that, Trotter was an intelligent man, would know what he was doing, the weight of his huge hands on my shoulders keeping me down, I've never had to deal with anyone so strong, blood on his black beard, his eyes watching the syringe, the plunger still drawing the stuff in, quite a lot of it, we were nearing the 5cc mark on the barrel, I hate these bloody things.