'She may be a lead to the transponder,' the Doctor pointed out. 'If she's dead, or loses her memory of it, we might never get it back.'

Chiu followed him into the next section of the container building. 'The threat she presents outweighs any potential value she has. If she reveals our presence and operations to the authorities, the loss of a single transponder would be meaningless by comparison to the security breach that would cause. She is a clear and present danger to the security of my people and to this organisation.'

'I can deal with her,' the Doctor snarled. Even Chiu hesitated at his voice.

'If she reveals what she has seen here, all our plans will have been for nothing. That threat must be eliminated immediately'

'I agree. But, my militaristic friend, there are other ways to silence people than resorting to violence. "Poets can but warn, therefore a true poet must be truthful".'

'One of your leaders?'

'Wilfred Owen. A poet in this planet's First World War. Her voice as a reporter is her only weapon against us; if we ensure that no one will ever listen to that voice, she can't harm us. It's a typical Triad strategy which works against the police, so there's no reason why it shouldn't be equally effective here.' 'That would not guarantee that she cannot talk.' 'No, but it guarantees that no one will act upon her words if she does.' Chiu considered this. 'Very well, but we will be monitoring the situation at all times. If your tactics fail, we will kill her.'

Chapter Thirteen.

Lost Gleaming

Tom had a car waiting, of course. Sarah wasn't surprised to see that it was a sporty convertible. He seemed like the type of man who'd go for that sort of thing. In a few minutes, they were putting safe distance between themselves and Kwai Chung.

'That was an impressive rescue in Thailand,' Sarah said when she'd got her breath back. 'I was sure I was dead.'

'We all have our hobbies.'

'And what's yours? Navy SEAL?'

He laughed. 'Actually I came to Hong Kong to try to find work as a stuntman stuntman'

'Oh, I see.' Sarah nodded with an exaggerated look of understanding. 'And it was just my good luck that you were there with handy skills.'

'Something like that.' They both knew he was talking nonsense, but somehow it didn't matter to Sarah. It just seemed right for him.

'You don't work for UNIT - Tsang was surprised to find me here. American& CIA?'

He shook his head. 'I'd like to think I have better ability and more taste.'

'DEA then.' It seemed reasonable; the path he had followed was characterised by a drug trail.

'Guilty as charged.'

She mulled that over. It wasn't entirely surprising, given all that had happened lately. 'I have the strangest feeling that our meeting wasn't a coincidence.'

'Well no,' he admitted. no,' he admitted.

'I supposed it's obvious you've been following me, but but on orders, or out of interest?' on orders, or out of interest?'

'Some of both. I was sent to see what sort of hornet's nest you stirred up, and to protect you from getting stung in the process.'

'Why is the Drug Enforcement Administration interested in me?' She hesitated. 'Or perhaps I should be asking, why are the DEA interested in this trip I'm making? Or have you been following me for years?'

Tom shook his head. 'Just this tour. We knew that your itinerary took you to the Pimms Import-Export Company and, knowing that investigative journalists are nosy by definition.

'You hoped I'd find a way to discover a few things you couldn't?'

'Well, if I rolled up and said, "DEA, can I have an interview and a tour?" I doubt I'd have got very far, especially outside my jurisdiction.' He pulled up at the Mandarin Oriental hotel. 'We have a suite here; a safe house, if you like.'

'Suite' was an understatement - Tom and his group had taken over a whole wing of one floor. He took her to a plush room. "This room's spare. You can have it; the Tao Te Lung have already tried your old hotel room, so I wouldn't advise going back there. We'll send someone for your luggage.'

'Whatever you say.' Sarah was too tired, and trying too hard to understand what had happened to the Doctor, to want to argue. She suspected she might have a few choice words with Tom later, though; she didn't like being followed around.

She kicked off her shoes and collapsed back into a chair. 'What a relief,'

she said with feeling. Tom knelt beside her, and took hold of a foot to massage. Sarah grinned and stretched like a cat. "That's helping. Are you a professional or is it just a fetish?'

'I used to be a bit of an athlete at college. Believe me, I know exactly how much every muscle in the human body can hurt, and a few things about how to try to stop the pain. But in your case I'll kiss it better if you think it'll help.'

'Right now, I feel as if only a regeneration would help&'

'A what?'

She shook her head. 'Nothing. Never mind. Whatever you're doing, it's helping.'

"That's what I'm here for.'

'To help me?' That seemed unlikely. It was probably more the other way round.

'Well, to make sure you don't get yourself killed, or worse.'

Sarah merely smiled, and dozed off as the stress of the day feded.

The reports filed with Singapore HQ had all said the village was truly deserted, and there was only a faint breeze, passing along the streets or making use of the doors. Clark shivered despite the heat; she could imagine too many horrors waiting for them, all based on her favourite Manga cartoons. Sometimes an imagination was a bloody nuisance.

The silence was the worst. Normally the countryside in South-East Asia was alive with the sounds of unseen animals and exotic birds, but here, the air was utterly dead. The cooking fires were cold and grey, unused for some time but recent enough for the ashes to look like ashes. Clark didn't understand it at all.

The troop had split up somewhat, pairs investigating each building. They had confirmed the village's lack of population and were now gathered in the largest home.

'Anything?' Major Barry asked.

'It's like a ghost town in a theme park. There's nothing here at all.'

'Tranh said it was occupied recently recently ' Barry looked around and Clark realised she didn't see Tranh either. 'Where is Tranh?' Everyone exchanged puzzled glances. ' Barry looked around and Clark realised she didn't see Tranh either. 'Where is Tranh?' Everyone exchanged puzzled glances.

Barry exited the house, Clark falling into step beside him. They could now see Tranh's back. He was standing alone just inside the tree line. 'Of all the times for the guy to need to take a leak leak'

Tranh didn't turn as they approached, and Clark could see that his hands were hanging by his sides, which put paid to Barry's theory. She began to get an uncomfortable feeling of dread as they neared him. She had no idea why, but she instinctively knew that things were about to go awry.

Her intuition seemed to be correct. Tranh was standing, staring unseeingly ahead and whispering in some tongue Clark couldn't quite make out. It wasn't the local lingo, though, of that she was certain. 'Tranh!' Barry snapped, without effect.

Barry and Clark took turns waving their hands in front of Tranh's eyes. He didn't react. However, when he finished whispering, he suddenly jumped, as if they had materialised in front of him. 'Major 'Major, Captain Captain what are you doing here?' what are you doing here?'

'What are you doing here?' Barry shot back at him. 'And who were you talking to?'

'Talking?'

'Whispering,' Clark corrected.

'He must have a wire, and maybe a throat mike,' Barry said, in a tone that suggested he wished he had searched the guy every morning to be sure he was trustworthy. For once his paranoia looked to Clark like being right. He started to frisk Tranh.

'If you weren't talking, what were you doing?' Clark asked the guide.

Tranh didn't look too sure of the answer. 'I was remembering. In a dream.'

'A dream, right,' Barry echoed sceptically. 'No wire. Damn. So, what was so important for you to remember?'

"The war. I remember the bombing. Especially when I dream dream I remember the noise, and the screams. I remember running as the ground shakes, but I fall, and cannot get away. I look up to the sky, looking for American planes. But the sun is blue, the sky is blood-red and the clouds and smoke are as black as charred meat. I remember the noise, and the screams. I remember running as the ground shakes, but I fall, and cannot get away. I look up to the sky, looking for American planes. But the sun is blue, the sky is blood-red and the clouds and smoke are as black as charred meat.

'Then shining steel descends to the treetops, filling the sky from horizon to horizon, and when I look to the side there are other silver knives cutting through the burning sky. The air buzzes, and it feels as if the world is about to be crushed underfoot. The earth shakes, and turns to water, and suddenly I am falling into the darkness darkness "Then I wake up, and and I know that the American bombing did not happen that way. I know that nothing like that has happened to me. But I know it is too real not to be true.' I know that the American bombing did not happen that way. I know that nothing like that has happened to me. But I know it is too real not to be true.'

Barry didn't reply to that. Instead he took Captain Clark a few steps away. 'What do you think?'

'The Golden Triangle isn't exactly a million miles from here. I think he's out of his skull.' She looked back at the guide. "Then again, "silver knives" in the sky sky I suppose he could mean some kind of alien ship.' She sounded embarrassed even to suggest it, though both of them had been on secondment to UNIT long enough to know that these things did exist. I suppose he could mean some kind of alien ship.' She sounded embarrassed even to suggest it, though both of them had been on secondment to UNIT long enough to know that these things did exist.

'Shit.' Barry stepped back to Tranh. 'OK, you were in a dream. Did somebody want you to dream? Make you dream?'

Tranh's face cleared, surprise following understanding across his face like phases of the moon. 'Yes. I think so. There was a voice& I had to tell it my thoughts.'

'Whose voice? And what thoughts?'

' I I I cannot tell you. With no dream, I cannot tell you.' I cannot tell you. With no dream, I cannot tell you.'

'No dream?' Barry was incredulous. 'You need to be seeing things to answer questions? Just tell me. We're not going to hold it against you if you've been coerced by this& voice.'

'I can't,' Tranh wailed. I -'

'Look, how hard can it be, ferchrissakes?' Barry demanded. 'Just tell us. If you're worried about somebody hearing hearing Who the hell's going to tell on you out here?' He shifted his foot, and Clark was suddenly sure he was about to prompt the guide's memory with a kick. Who the hell's going to tell on you out here?' He shifted his foot, and Clark was suddenly sure he was about to prompt the guide's memory with a kick.

She stepped between the major and Tranh. 'Sir, I know this is important, but maybe you oughtn't to be so hard on the guy. I think maybe he really can't tell us. It looks like he wants to, but something's stopping him. Some kind of brainwashing, maybe.'

Barry turned away, throwing up his hands in disgust. 'Brainwashing? For& What is this, the bloody Manchurian Candidate?'

'Why not?' Clark suggested. 'It wouldn't be the first time. Drugs, post-hypnotic suggestion , parasitic symbiotes , parasitic symbiotes There are plenty of possibilities.' There are plenty of possibilities.'

'Oh, thanks, that's a really cheerful thought.' Barry kicked at a small lizard. It dodged easily. 'I mean, how long has this guy been selling us out?

He's our bloody guide, for Christ's sake; he's probably been leading us away from the target for the whole bloody trip.'

If they'd really been off course, the GPS tracker would have shown it. They both knew Barry's comment was just talk, so Clark didn't correct him. Barry turned back towards the guide. 'Dammit, just tell me. You need a voice, try mine.' He glanced at Clark. 'Pentothal.'

Clark hesitated, then handed him a syringe from her first-aid kit. It wasn't standard issue, but questioning in the field was necessary often enough to justify breaking the rules. New and unusual threats demanded new and unusual answers.

Barry shot Tranh up with the Pentothal. 'You're dreaming. This is all one big nightmare and part of it is my questioning you.'

'There was a voice. I had to tell -' Suddenly the guide began to wail. The screams then ended, cut off in a choking rasp and his eyes bulged. Tranh dropped to his knees, his fingers twitching.

'Shit! He's having a seizure or something.' Clark's conscience went into overdrive: Tranh must be having some kind of reaction to the drug. Barry knelt and grabbed his shoulders. 'How the hell do I bring him out of this?'

'I'm not sure you can. I think it's anaphylactic shock against the Pentothal.'

The guide's left hand was clawing at his neck, and his eyes were filled with terror. It looked to Clark like he was a prisoner stuck in a condemned cell, but the cell was his body. Then she noticed that the skin on the guide's neck was starting to redden and blister. 'Look out!' She pulled Barry aside as the guide finally toppled over, engulfed in an infernal red glow.

The glow flared up, spreading in a literal flash as Tranh fell. It was over so quickly that only a few charred bone fragments actually hit the ground, while ash floated gently in the breeze before settling.

The two UNIT officers were stunned, incapable of speaking or doing anything other than grimace at the smell left behind. 'Jesus Christ!' Clark finally exclaimed. 'That wasn't anaphylactic shock!'

'Some kind of self-destruct implant,' Barry told her. 'Probably remote-triggered to keep him from spilling his guts to us.' He was calming down pretty quickly, but then gagged and snorted. 'Bloody hell, that stinks.' He led Clark away from the smouldering remains.

Clark was disgusted, but remained sensible enough to think about how this affected the mission. 'If he's been selling us out all along, shouldn't we abort?'

Barry took a few deep breaths. 'I wish. There's nothing else we can do but go ahead with it.'

Clark didn't think that was a good idea, but wasn't going to press it. Not until her stomach was settled enough to take the stress. 'What do we tell the others about him?' Nobody would be likely to believe the truth, and most of the alternatives would lead to a court martial.

Barry thought for a moment. 'We tell them he ran, and had too much of a head start for us to catch him. That way everybody understands that our cover might be gone, but they won't think we shot the useless bastard and then invented a crazy story about spontaneous combustion to cover our asses.'

Chapter Fourteen.

Every Silver Lining Has II Cloud

Tom loved the exotic East; that oozed out of every pore and underlined every word he spoke. The way he described it, it's the World of Suzie the World of Suzie Wong Wong redux. Hash-scented bars, willing women, tranquil islands and a gun-toting Yellow Peril under every palm tree or congee stall. Either his father told Tom a lot of tall tales when he returned from Vietnam, or he had seen redux. Hash-scented bars, willing women, tranquil islands and a gun-toting Yellow Peril under every palm tree or congee stall. Either his father told Tom a lot of tall tales when he returned from Vietnam, or he had seen The Man with the Golden Gun The Man with the Golden Gun a few times too often. a few times too often.

He was enjoying Sarah's company and took her to dinner after her afternoon doze. They ate at the Luk Yu, ignoring the staff as much as the staff ignored them. It was the best dinner in Hong Kong, and everyone played the game perfectly, neither staff nor customers losing face.

Tom had arranged a table with a modicum of privacy, though it wasn't a truly private booth. Nobody could really "overhear conversations against the noise of the patrons anyway. Sarah seemed to have been amused by the photo on Tom's ID.'I thought passport photos were bad, but but'