‘It was invented by John T. Thompson of America, during the war. You know how he described it? He called it a trench broom. For clearing men out of trenches. It is a disgusting thing. I prefer my Beretta. She is small and has no great stopping power, but I like her. She suits me; she is fast and reliable and I can hide her easily.’

‘What happened with Ugo?’ said James, who had had enough of guns and killing.

‘You were right,’ said Zoltan. ‘I cannot trust him. After you escaped, he came to me. He was very angry, and said I must have helped you. We argued. I accused him of being a fool, and he accused me of being a traitor. He said he would never pay me what I was owed. It was like the past all over again. He is a thief. Now I have nothing. If I had not had my men with me, I think he would have tried to kill me.’

James felt shifty. His lie to Ugo had turned the two men against each other, but without that lie he would probably be dead.

Besides, he had to keep reminding himself, Zoltan was a murderer and not his friend.

The Magyar lit a cigarette. He looked tired and his whole body was shaking.

‘Don’t let my men see me like this,’ he said, looking at his good hand and trying to stop it trembling. ‘They will think I am scared. I cannot stop it, and every movement tires me out.’

‘What will you do now?’ said James blankly.

‘These people know about revenge. And I will have my revenge on Ugo. I will destroy him.’

‘You’re going back there?’ said James. ‘But there aren’t enough of you.’

‘The odds are levelled after last night,’ said Zoltan. ‘His army is smaller. I have all my crew and the surviving bandits.’

‘You still won’t stand a chance,’ said James.

‘I have a plan,’ said Zoltan. ‘Your cousin gave me the idea. We took some mining equipment from one of Ugo’s tunnels. I will bring his house down on his head.’

‘And what about Amy?’

‘Ah, Amy…’ Zoltan looked up at the sky and sighed. ‘She is the cause of all this. I will try to get her out before the end, but if I can’t have her, then neither will Ugo.’

‘That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?’ said James. ‘You and Ugo competing to see who has the bigger gun. You’re fighting over the prize like two dogs with a rabbit. But Amy’s not some sort of trophy. She’s a girl, a frightened fourteen-year-old girl. You’d let her die, wouldn’t you? Just to spite Ugo.’