Dancing with Spies

The woman began to bounce up and down like a horse-rider trotting, gasping with pleasure. The man beneath her was jerking in violent spasms. There came an animal howl of hurt which brought their movements to a juddering halt. Caroline knew she had to get away.

The ferry´s engines had stopped. The only port they could reach is Dubrovnik. But the Yugoslav Civil War is happening and Dubrovnik is under siege. Will the JNA open fire?

She was struck across the face. A vice-like grip held her mouth half open. She could taste the dirt on the horny palm of the man´s hand. A steel band seemed to grip round her chest. "Be still or you will feel the point of my knife."

Through the window she could see a man was seated, tied upright to the back of a chair. There was blood streaming down his face and his hair was dishevelled. Then the shutters were banged shut and she saw no more.

The wind plucked great tongues of flame and brought them rolling down the hillside. The tinder-dry vegetation caught fire immediately. The hot air sucked up burning twigs and tossed them further down the hill, starting more small fires ahead.

With a sinking feeling, she realised she had to climb up those rough, bent pieces of iron. One was missing, leaving a large gap. She hated heights. What would she find when she got to the top?

Several flashes were scattered on the mountainside. A few seconds later a dull rumble reached them. A great explosion of fire suddenly mushroomed up and lit the shapes of the buildings ahead. It felt as though they were sailing into the mouth of hell.

Dubrovnik had come under fire.