The Scorpion stood up, inserted his toe in the depression and stood for a second, balanced on the toe like a clumsy ballerina. Then he came down on the other leg. He grunted with satisfaction. The sandstone cracked fairly easily. That was crucial. Otherwise, the attempt was impossible. As it was, it would take every last drop of strength and skill he possessed to even come close.

He turned and studied the mound of sand. Without a word, he moved to the center of the mound, got down on his knees and began to shovel handfuls of sand at the base of the rock face under the depression he had just made. All the while, Kelly watched him with the kind of pained, yet polite expression reserved for madmen.

“I could use some help,” the Scorpion said, glancing over at her.

“I can see that,” she said carefully.

“I want to pile the sand over there to cushion that area in case I fall,” he explained. Without waiting to see her response, he went back to work. He shoveled mound after mound with his bare hands towards the rocky face. After a moment’s hesitation, he felt her working beside him.

When a small mound had been built on that side, they collapsed against the far wall to rest.

“You’re really serious,” she said, when she finally caught her breath.

The Scorpion wiped his sweating brow against his forearm, gritty with sand. Then he caught her by her shoulder and held her tightly.

“Listen to me. Twenty-four hours from now, you’ll be sitting in an air-conditioned lounge somewhere and this will all seem like a bad dream,” he whispered intently.

“Please don’t lie to me. I don’t want to live on false hopes. Before you came I’d resigned myself to death. Don’t tease me,” she whispered, her lips buried against his hard-muscled shoulder.

“I’m not lying. I’ve climbed out of worse places than this,” he said, remembering the tunnels near Dai Loc, and thought that it was true. “Besides, the only dying that’s going to happen will be done by Abdul Sa’ad and Bandar,” he said quietly.

She shuddered. It was utterly clear that he meant it.

She straightened up and wiped the tears from her eyes. She brushed the sand out of her hand with her fingers and the gesture touched him more than anything she had said.

“What can I do to help?” she asked, her voice calm and resolute.

“Can you braid?”

“I haven’t done that since I was a little girl. Why?”

“Because we’ll need a rope. You said you weren’t the world’s greatest lady climber, so you’ll need a little help,” the Scorpion said, undoing his headcloth and bisht. Using the chisel to start a cut, he tore it all into long strips. He hefted the bundle of strips thoughtfully.

“Won’t be enough,” he sighed.