### 13

Yeng unsheathes his army dagger and presses its razor-sharp blade to the prisoner’s throat. ‘Talk now, you dog—or you’ll never talk again,’ he growls. The prisoner grits his teeth and refuses to answer.

‘Here, let me try, Sergeant,’ you say, as you ease the dagger from Yeng’s hand. ‘I can see our friend is not afraid of death.’ You speak the words slowly, and hold the blade so that the light of the campfire is reflected directly into the prisoner’s eyes. ‘But there are many things that are worse than death.’

You raise your left forearm and slowly you draw the sharp blade across the back of your wrist. Blood trickles from the open wound, and those nearby gasp with fearful amazement.

‘Just think on this, my friend. If I’m prepared to do this to myself, what will I be prepared to do to you, eh?’

Suddenly the man’s nerve breaks. Cold sweat beads on his forehead and falteringly he beings to talk.

Turn to 210.