Maybe twenty seconds passed and then the chopper suddenly swept upward and to the south. It disappeared behind one of the peaks near the entrance. The glow of its lights poured through the narrow cavern.

Rodgers peeked over the slab. The chopper had landed.

Maybe they were worried about causing an avalanche and had decided to deploy ground troops. That would make getting through the entrance virtually impossible. He immediately got up and ran after Nanda. He would have to pull her back, think of another strategy. Maybe negotiate something with these people to get her out. As she had said. they were her people.

But as Rodgers ran he saw something that surprised him.

Up ahead. Three of the Indian soldiers were rushing from the clearing.

They were not going to attack. They were being evacuated.

What happened next surprised him even more.

"General Rodgers!" someone shouted.

Rodgers looked to the west of the entrance. Someone was standing there, half-hidden by an ice formation.

All right, Rodgers thought. He'd bite.

"Yes?" the general shouted back.

"Your message got through!" said the Indian.

"We must leave this place at once!"

Everything from Rodgers's legs to his spirit to his brain felt as though they had been given a shot of adrenaline. He kept running, leaping cracks and dodging mounds of ice.

Either Ron Friday had gotten to him with a hell of a sell job or the man was telling the truth. Whichever it was, Rodgers was going with it.

There did not seem to be another option.

Looking ahead, Rodgers watched as Nanda reached the entrance. She continued on toward the light. Rodgers arrived several moments later.

The Indian soldier, a sergeant, got there at the same time he did. His rifle was slung over his back. There were no weapons in his gloved hands.

"We must hurry," the Indian said as they ran into the entrance.

"This area is a Pakistani time bomb. An arsenal of some kind. You triggered the defenses somehow."

Possibly by tinkering with the uplink, Rodgers thought. Or more likely, the Pakistani military wanted to destroy them all to keep the secret of their nuclear missile silo.

"I can't believe there were just two of you," the sergeant said as they raced through the narrow tunnel.

"We thought there were more."

"There were," Rodgers said. He looked at the chopper ahead. He watched as soldiers helped Nanda inside and he realized Friday had deserted them.

"They're dead now."

The men left the entrance and ran the last twenty-five yards to the chopper. Rodgers and the sergeant jumped into the open door of the Mi-35. The aircraft rose quickly, simultaneously angling from the hot Pakistani base.

As the helicopter door was slid shut behind him, Rodgers staggered toward the side of the crowded cargo compartment.

There were no seats, just the outlines of cold, tired bodies.