He was about to switch the XM-203 from the grenade to automatic fire position when his ears rang from a deafening explosion nearby. His trap by the body had gone off. White phosphorus smoke poured over the squad which had been moving towards him. He could hear their screams as the burning smoke touched their flesh. As they stumbled and fired in blind confusion, he zeroed again on the arfaj. He couldn’t afford to miss, he thought, and fired the M-60 grenade. Before the recoil was over, he was reloading; he fired again.

Without waiting to see where the grenades landed, he rolled two more fragmentation grenades down the slope towards the Arabs firing from the ledge. Then he switched to automatic and began firing down along the line of the ledge.

As the Arabs on the ledge began to realize he hadn’t been neutralized and started firing back at him, he ducked back behind the crest. In the distance he could see orange muzzle flashes from the arfaj aimed at the lead Mutayr truck. Jump! the Scorpion prayed for Youssef. Please jump, he prayed.

The two M-60 grenades exploded around the arfaj and he could hear faint screams, like insect chirping, then all was shadow, followed by the almost simultaneous blasts of the grenades down on the ledge.

“To the crest, upwards,” screamed the Arab officer and the firing began to intensify around the Scorpion’s position. He leaned over and fired another long burst down at the ledge. He saw two shadows crumple before he had to duck back again.

He was just about to make a run for the climbing rope when two Arabs appeared out of the smoke. They were almost on top of him. As they exclaimed in surprise and lowered their muzzles the Scorpion struck. He swung the XM-203 at the legs of the nearest Arab, knocking him off balance just as he fired. The bullets ricocheted on the rock inches from the Scorpion’s head. There was no time to aim at the second.

The Scorpion sprang up at him and the two men tumbled and rolled on the ground, grappling blindly for a handhold. The Arab’s hands found the Scorpion’s throat and began choking him. The Scorpion jammed an elbow into the Arab’s ribs, breaking at least one, but the Arab hung grimly on. Meanwhile, he could feel the other man trying to grab his feet, cursing between harsh breaths.

He was choking; his need for air desperate. As spots of light began to dance before the Scorpion’s eyes, he managed to kick out, knocking the clutching Arab away for an instant. His fingers felt desperately for his khanjar sheath but it wasn’t there! The other Arab started to aim at both squirming bodies and the Scorpion gave a desperate heave, rolling them over.