"If we contact the Americans by radio we can make sure the Indian ground troops also pick up the message," Sharab said.

"That will draw them to us."

"What makes you think they'll be taking prisoners?" Friday asked.

"It does not matter, as long as we hold them there as long as we can,"

Sharab said.

"It will leave the path clear for Samouel's group to get through. You said yourself that Nanda is the key to stopping the nuclear attack. She must reach Pakistan. Her people will listen to her confession, her testimony."

"How do you know she won't betray you?" Friday asked.

"Because I know something you don't," Sharab said.

"The missiles your team is looking for? They are already in place.

Dozens of them. They are in the mountains, pointed at New Delhi, Calcutta, Bombay. A strike against Pakistan will turn the entire subcontinent into a wasteland."

"Let me tell my superiors," Friday said.

"They will warn the Indians not to strike-" "Warn them how?" Sharab asked.

"I have no proof I don't know where the missiles are and my government won't reveal that information. I only know that missiles have been deployed. We staged attacks to distract the Indian military when elements were being moved into place." The woman took a breath, calmed herself. If she grew angry and began to perspire the sweat would freeze.

"Unless Nanda wishes to see her nation ravaged, she will have to cooperate with us.

But that means getting her to Pakistan without the Indians killing her!"

"All right," Friday agreed.

"But I'm going with her. She'll need protection. She'll also need international credibility. I was a witness to the blasts. I can make certain that officials from our embassy support her claims."

"How do I know you won't kill her?" Sharab cried. The winds had picked up and she had to shout to be heard over them.

"You arrived in an Indian helicopter. How do I know you didn't want to take us back to Kargil? I only have your promises and a radio communication that could have come from anyone! These do not make you an ally!"

"I could have shot at you from the helicopter!" Friday yelled.

"That makes me not your enemy."

Sharab had to admit that the American had a point. Still, she was not ready to believe him entirely. Not yet.

"You're wasting what little time we have," the man went on.

"Unless you plan on killing me, I'm going with Nanda."

Sharab continued to hold Friday against the wall. His hot breath warmed her nose as she looked at him. His eyes were tearing from the cold but that was the only life in them.

Sharab could not find anything else there. Not truth, not conviction, not selflessness. But she also did not see fear or hostility. And at the moment, that would have to be good enough.

"Samouel will run the operation," Sharab told Friday.