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survive the explosions and fire. They need to be primed and activated to go off. Which is good news because I doubt if your car can outrun a nuclear explosion!”
    â€œA good point,” Mr Chang conceded, handing Chance the binoculars.
    The other side of the valley was suddenly alive with flashes of gunfire. Chinese soldiers dived for better cover. Several were hit in the first volleys and fell to the ground. Chance could hear the commander shouting orders as the Chinese soldiers returned fire. But the rebels were well dug in, and the convoy was a sitting target.
    The lorry in the middle of the convoy lurched forwards, smashing into the burning remains of the lead truck. For a moment it looked as though the flatbed lorry would push the truck aside and clear a path for the convoy to escape.
    But then there was a streak of flame from high on the side of the valley.
    â€œIncoming,” Chance muttered.
    The missile hit the side of the cab and the whole frontof the flatbed lorry exploded into fragments. The blast twisted the trailer round and tipped it on its side. There was no way the convoy could advance now.
    Then a second later, the truck at the back of the convoy exploded. The remaining lorries and a number of soldiers were trapped between the burning vehicles.
    â€œTell me,” said Chance to Mr Chang, “have you ever heard of the Seventh Cavalry?”
    â€œAnything to do with Custer’s Last Stand?” Mr Chang asked.
    â€œThat’s the one. We’d better see what we can do to help.”
    They ran back to Mr Chang’s car. The engine was still running, and Chance got into the driver’s seat. Mr Chang frowned, but said nothing.
    As the car pulled away, Mr Chang asked, “Why didn’t they destroy all the vehicles?”
    â€œThey need to keep one flatbed lorry intact to drive a warhead or two away. The Chinese commander will have called in air support. They’re on a schedule now and they’re running out of time. They have an hour if they’re lucky.”
    â€œSo, we have to slow them down until help arrives.”
    â€œExactly.”
    â€œHow do we do that? What’s the plan?”
    Chance was concentrating on the road as they raced along the narrow track. “Ask me in an hour.”
    Ahead, the track turned and dipped over the edge of the cliff. It was a point where vehicles needed to slow and edge cautiously down the steep slope.
    Chance changed down a gear, then floored the accelerator.
    The car leaped forward, the sound of its engine deepening. The track disappeared from view for a moment as the car left the ground. Then it slammed down, and the track was twisting ahead of them. Chance spun the wheel, slewing the car into the first tight bend, then back the other way into the next hairpin.
    They were bouncing and sliding. The car missed one of the bends completely and careered on down the slope to rejoin the track at the next tight turn. Dislodged stones and rocks scattered and rolled ahead of them. A bullet cracked into the windscreen as they approached the convoy—though whether it had been fired by the Chinese troops or the rebels it was impossible to tell.
    The glass crazed, and Chance shoved it away with the flat of his hand, knocking a large hole in the windshield. The car finally skidded to a halt beside the burning cab of the front flatbed lorry. It stalled.
    Chance’s door was jammed shut, bent out of shape where it had skimmed the side of the lorry. He clambered quickly across and out the other side, following Mr Chang.
    â€œTell them to hold their position,” Chance yelled at Mr Chang. “Tell them they just have to hold out till help arrives. Keep under cover and hold off the rebels.”
    One of the Chinese soldiers was shouting back at them. The man dashed across to the shelter of the wrecked lorry.
    â€œHe says he’s in charge and wants to know who we are,” Mr Chang told Chance.
    â€œTell him we were