It was over. But it had been a bloody battle, one of the bloodiest Ben had ever known. Horses and men lay dead everywhere. The tribesmen had dragged the armoured car crew out of their vehicle. One was horribly wounded but still alive, and he screamed for mercy as they threw him down and beheaded him.

Ben spotted Madison and Wolf in the crowd, still very much alive, and his heart filled with relief. He turned towards the tribal commander. Up close, the roguish, piratical look about the man was belied by the sharp gleam of intelligence in his eye, and a warmth of expression that seemed to hint at a thoughtful nature.

Speaking in Pashto he said, ‘My name is Hope, Benedict Hope.’

‘I am Khan Zada,’ the man replied, and with a broad sweep of his arm he added, ‘These are my lands. For a thousand years my tribe have lived in and ruled this territory, for as far as the eagle can fly in a day in any direction.’

‘We’re honoured to be humble visitors to your domain,’ Ben said, with a deferential nod. ‘And even more grateful to you for your intervention here today.’

Khan Zada seemed pleased. ‘Benedict,’ he said, mulling over the name. ‘In your language it means “blessed”, does it not?’

‘Something like that,’ Ben said.

‘Allah be praised.’

‘And yours means a very great man,’ Ben said. ‘If I’m not mistaken.’

Now the tribal commander seemed even more pleased. ‘You are the leader of your people?’

‘The command fell to me,’ Ben says. ‘Otherwise I’m just a common civilian.’

‘But you are clearly a great warrior. You saved my life, my friend. For that, it is I who must thank you.’

Ben replied, ‘Then as a friend, with the deepest respect, Khan Zada, I must beg you to stop your men executing the prisoners.’

‘It is our time-honoured custom,’ Khan Zada said casually. ‘However,’ he added after a moment’s careful consideration, ‘a man who saves another’s life becomes his blood kin, like a brother. And I will grant my brother’s wish.’

Turning to his men, he boomed out the order for them to spare the remaining prisoners. ‘Let them scurry away like the sons of diseased sewer rats that they are, and hide their faces forever in shame.’ He turned back to Ben with a beaming smile. ‘There, brother. It is done.’

‘I thank you again, Khan Zada,’ Ben said, shaking his strong hand. ‘It’s you who saved my life. All our lives. You couldn’t have come at a better time. But where on earth did you come from?’