Rodgers stepped out of himself to savor all the sensations of his eyes, his ears, his flesh. For in these drawn-out moments the general had a sense that they would be his last.

The two men hit a flat section of ice and stopped skidding.

The fusillade stopped.

"On your knees!" Rodgers shouted.

The men were going to have to crawl in another direction.

It would take the gunner an instant to re sight the weapon.

Rodgers pulled Apu onto his knees. The two men had to be somewhere else when fire resumed.

The men were crouching and facing one another in the dark. Apu was kneeling and half-leaning against Rodgers's chest. Suddenly, the farmer clutched the general's shoulders.

He pushed forward. With nothing behind him, Rodgers fell back with Apu on top of him.

"Save Nanda," Apu implored.

The gunning restarted. It chewed up the ice and then drilled into the back of the farmer. Apu hugged Rodgers as the bullets dug into the older man's flesh. The wounds sent damp splashes onto Rodgers's face.

He could feel the thud of each bullet right through the man's body.

Rodgers reflexively tucked his chin into his chest, bringing his head under Apu's face. He could hear the man grunt as the bullets struck.

They were not cries of pain but the forced exhalation of air as his lungs were punctured from behind. Apu was already beyond pain.

Rodgers brought in his knees slightly and kept himself buried beneath Apu's body. He was thinking now and not simply reacting. And Rodgers realized that this was what Apu had wanted. The farmer had sacrificed himself so Rodgers could stay alive and protect Nanda. The devotion and trust inherent in that gesture made them as pure as anything Rodgers had ever experienced.

Rodgers heard several bullets whistle by his head. He felt a burning in his right shoulder. One of the shots must have grazed him. His arm and back warmed as blood covered his cold flesh.

Rodgers lay. still. Their flight and Apu's sacrifice had kept the helicopter occupied for a short time. Hopefully, it had been long enough for Nanda, Friday, and Samouel to reach the peak.

The gunfire stopped. After a few moments the sound of the helicopter moved over Rodgers's head. The chopper was heading toward the icy slopes. It was time for Rodgers to move.

Apu was still holding him. Rodgers grasped the elbows of the man's parka and gently pulled them away. Then he slid to the right, out from under the dead man. Blood from Apu's neck trickled onto Rodgers's left cheek.

It left a streak, like warpaint. The elderly man had not given his life in vain.