"It must have been very valuable to cause you to risk your life."

"I think it may prove to be priceless." His gaze held her own for a long moment, and she experienced hat same bewildering sensation as when he had touched her lip on the plane. But he wasn't touching her now. she thought. Only with his eyes and that smile that caused an almost physical rapport. She hurriedly looked away. "You didn't answer me. How did you do it?"

He shrugged. "I spent most of the night planting those charges and setting the timers. The only dicey one was on the fuselage of the plane. If Hassan's outside guard had been on the ball, he would have spotted me. There was no ground cover."

"Was that a tear gas bomb you exploded on the plane?"

He shook his head. "It was one of Clancy's chemical specials, created to affect the sinuses and the respiratory tract. It's far more sophisticated than tear gas, as well as much more painful. One good whiff and it almost completely incapacitates a man." His eyes darkened with concern. "Are you all right?"

She nodded. "My chest aches and I can't seem to stop crying. Otherwise I'm fine." She frowned. "But how did you manage to stand it with nothing to cover your face?"

"Nose plugs and contact lenses." He grimaced. "Together with that damned false ear I felt like the bionic man from the television series."

"Oh, yes, the false ear." She shook her head and chuckled. "I nearly fell over when you tore your left ear off. It looked so real."

"Nothing but the best for Clancy. He did give me a choice of which appendage I wanted to duplicate for the bomb. But there were only two choices, and the other appendage I refused to destroy even in effigy." He glanced casually at the gauges on the panel in front of him and his smile disappeared. He uttered a brief but violent curse.

"What's wrong?"

"The gas. dammit. The gauge is dropping like a stone. One of the bullets must have hit the gas tank. "

Her eyes widened apprehensively. "We're almost out of gas?"

He nodded. "And we're still a good ten miles from the beginning of the foothills. We'll be lucky if the jeep makes it another eight or nine miles. We'll still have to hike a mile or two in the desert."

"Is that all?" Zilah breathed a sigh of relief. "I thought we were going to be stranded out here for Hassan and his men to find."

"It's bad enough. It means that we'll have only a short head start on Hassan and may have to play hide-and-seek in those hills tonight. We'll have to stay off the main paths. We'll be lucky if we get to the border by tomorrow morning."

She shrugged. "It doesn't matter when we get there, just so we do. A night in the hills wont be so terrible."

"You can handle it?" he asked mockingly.

"I can handle anything," she said in a grave tone of voice. "I've had an excellent teacher."

His lips tightened. "Bradford?"

She nodded. "David taught me practically everything I know." Her voice softened. "He's a wonderful, wonderful man."

"I'm sure he enjoys enormously the manner in which you express your gratitude,'" Daniel said harshly. "But I'll wager there are still a few lessons you could learn."

She stared at him, clearly puzzled. "I don't know what you mean."

His boot suddenly jammed on the accelerator with a force that caused the jeep to buck. Then, realizing that the impulsive action had wasted precious gas, he cursed beneath his breath. "You will."

His gaze was fixed on the hills wavering in the distance like a cool, verdant mirage. "I assure you that I have every intention that you understand me very well."

They were some nine miles closer to those hills when the jeep sputtered, choked, and then came to a halt.

"Out," Daniel ordered tersely, swinging his long legs over the side of the jeep.

Zilah was already scrambling from her seat as he spoke. The sand was hot beneath the rubber soles of her tennis shoes. It would probably get hotter, she thought grimly. She had better get accustomed to it. She joined Daniel at the back of the jeep, where he was raising a false bottom panel on the floor before the rear seats.

He quickly pulled out an army-green backpack, a canteen, and a lethally efficient-looking rifle complete with carrying strap. He thrust the gun at her. "Hold on to this for a minute, will you?"

She accepted the rifle with a faint sensation of unreality. It looked like an army issue machine-gun of some sort. Who would have believed a few days ago at peaceful Texas A&M that she would be here in the desert holding a rifle with which only a man like Daniel Seifert would be comfortable? She watched bemusedly as Daniel extracted the nose plugs and contact lenses he was wearing and threw them carelessly on the backseat. Then he was strapping on the

backpack with swift, economical movements. He took the rifle, slung it over his shoulder, and reached for the canteen.

"Let me carry the rifle," Zilah said quietly. "It makes no sense for you to be burdened with all of the equipment. I want to do my share."

He shook his head. "We have to move fast. I want to be halfway up that first hill in twenty minutes— tops!" His lips tightened. "It may be all the time we have." He gave her the canteen. "Hang on to this. The rest of this stuff is no problem for me." He grinned. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm as big as a house. It comes in handy once in a while." He took her hand. "Come on, hike!"

She slung the canteen over her shoulder and fell into step with him. His clasp on her hand was warmly comforting, yet she was still conscious of that bewildering tingling of awareness. She had the odd feeling that a part of her was being absorbed by his grasp. It made her vaguely uneasy and she instinctively tried to pull away. He released her at once and she immediately felt a little foolish.

His gaze flew down to her face. "You're frowning," he noticed. "Are you frightened?"

"Yes," she said honestly. "I'm scared to death. I have been ever since you tore off that ridiculous false ear and exploded the gas." She looked directly at him. "But you needn't worry about me falling apart. I know you have enough problems without having a hysterical woman on your hands. Just tell me what to do and I'll do it."

His brow rose quizzically. "Just like that? No indignant protests? No women's lib? No ranting about your right to have a say in all this?"

"I'm not a fool," she said. "This type of action is obviously your metier, not mine. When you're with an expert, you get out of his way and let him do his job."

Her lips curved in an ironic smile. "I'll help in any way I can, but I'm afraid that blowing up airplanes wasn't in my college curriculum."

"I'd never know it. You're a very cool lady when the chips are down." His expression softened. "Try not to worry too much. I'm not saying this is going to be easy, but I have no intention of letting Hassan get hold of you again. I don't like to lose. I make a habit of avoiding it at all costs."

"I hope this isn't the exception that proves the rule," she said, trying to smile.

"It won't be." His eyes narrowed intently on her face. "I have a very special reason for wanting to win this time. Trust me."

"Until hell freezes over?"

"It worked out pretty well the last time, didn't it?" He glanced away. "We'd better put on more speed. There's no place out here in the open to dig in if we don't have as much time as I've been calculating."