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Wearily you drag yourself to your feet, wipe the grit from your eyes, and then stagger towards your motorcycle. You are expecting to find little more than a twisted heap of scrap metal, so it comes as a welcome surprise to discover that the machine is still in working order. After straightening the handlebars, the headlight, and the front wheel alignment, you are able to restart the engine with your third kick.
You follow the wide trench until you find a suitable place, on the far side of the rockfalls to make your exit. The ascent is accomplished without difficulty, but as you clear the crest of the gully and bring your motorcycle to a stop, you notice something that makes you break out in a cold sweat.
From the eastern end of the gully a cloud of dust is approaching. It is over a mile distant, but at once you can tell that it is being kicked up by a motorcycle. You stare at the approaching machine and, although you cannot see the rider, you know that it is the assassin. Chilled by his proximity, you wind back the throttle and gun your bike along the bumpy mountain road.
