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now took charge, and with a degree of firmness. ‘I’ll tell you what we’ll do … I’ll go and buy the airline tickets for you and Mai. I’ll do it tomorrow -’

      ‘Too much money, Clee,’ Yoyo said, cutting him off. He paused and there was an unexpected change in his voice when he added slowly, ‘Okay, I think about it -’ Yoyo broke off, cocked his head, listening intently before he threw Nicky a worried glance. ‘Gunfire?’

      ‘No mistaking it,’ she cried and glanced at Clee. They exchanged knowing looks. He nodded, and instantly took off without saying a word.

      Nicky sprinted forward, catching up with Clee, everything else forgotten in her dash toward the action. The story was uppermost in her mind.

      Everyone in the vicinity of the monument heard the sound of shots being fired, and there was a sudden mad rush as the correspondents, photographers and television crews raced after Clee and Nicky. They ran across the square at breakneck speed, heading for Changan Avenue.

      Once Nicky was on Changan she lost Clee in the chaos. Immediately, she saw that armoured vehicles and trucks were moving down the wide boulevard, noted that the troops were armed with AK-47 assault rifles. It was obvious to her they were making for Tiananmen, and she knew they had every intention of entering it by force. There had been a rumour earlier that Deng had reportedly told the military commanders, ‘Recover the square at all cost.’ And there was no doubt in her mind that they would do exactly that; they had already demonstrated their deadly intentions that very afternoon.

      She and Clee had been witness to their brutal actions when they had returned to the square after their rather late lunch at the Beijing Hotel. At the western end of the square, close to the Great Hall of the People, thousands of soldiers had beaten up demonstrators who had tried to block their entry into Tiananmen.

      As far as she and Clee had been able to determine, no shots had been fired, but there had been much violence, and apparently the troops had used tear gas at one point. Enraged, the masses had hit back, throwing bricks and rocks at the soldiers; in turn, the troops had used truncheons and belts in an effort to quell the protestors.

      Seemingly, this pitched battle had merely been the prelude to what was happening at this very moment. That was why she and Clee had just tried to persuade Yoyo to leave Beijing as soon as possible. Experienced as they were, and understanding the politics involved, they were aware that the situation could only worsen in the next twenty-four hours.

      Now, suddenly, the troops who had been firing shots into the air were viciously turning their guns on the citizens and students crowding the sidewalks flanking the avenue.

      Nicky stood watching in horror, unable to believe her eyes.

      Howling like wounded animals, the people rushed forward, hurling bricks, rocks, pieces of iron pipes, and primitive gasoline bombs at the troops and trucks. Their anger spiralled up into greater rage, and they began to scream and shout furiously at the soldiers, who replied by firing rapid, lethal bursts at them.

      People fell as they were hit by bullets, crying out in terror.

      The carnage had begun.

      Appalled by what she was seeing, Nicky found herself unable to move for a few seconds. She was paralysed, stood staring blankly, and chills swept through her. It was a Chinese woman next to her who roused her, when she grabbed her arm, peered into her face, and said in English, ‘The People’s Army are killing us - civilians. They are murderers! Bastards!’

      ‘Don’t stay here, go home!’ Nicky said to the woman urgently. ‘It’s dangerous here. Go home.’ The woman simply shook her head, remained standing exactly where she was.

      The drone of helicopters circling made Nicky lift her head, and she gazed up into the night sky. She remembered what Yoyo had said about tear gas being dropped by the choppers. Opening the shoulder bag slung across her body, she groped for one of the surgical masks, stuffed it into her jacket pocket where it was handy, if she needed it.

      When she pulled her hand out of her pocket she saw that it was shaking. She was hardly surprised. The troops were mowing down innocent people. It was the most unconscionable thing she had seen in the longest time; she was shocked, revolted. Changan Avenue had become a battleground. Tanks and truckloads of soldiers armed with machine guns were rolling inexorably down the avenue, one after the other.

      God help the students, she thought, moving away from the road, trying to get to the safety of the trees on the sidewalk, which many people were hiding behind.

      Fires were beginning to break out everywhere. Overturned buses, which had been used as barricades by the people, blazed at various intersections, and a number of military vehicles burned on the avenue. They had been set alight by the infuriated Beijing residents, and orange and red flames shot up into the dark sky, an inferno in the making.

      Much to Nicky’s amazement, people were continuing to emerge from the apartment buildings and houses that lined Changan. They were on a rampage, intent on fighting back, using any makeshift weapons they could find: brooms and sticks and bricks. Some of them were better armed with Molotov cocktails, and these they pelted at the tanks and armoured personnel carriers. Gunfire increased and the stench of cordite and blood hung heavy on the warm night air. She felt suddenly quite nauseous. Bullets were whizzing over her head and she ducked, deciding she had better get away from here as fast as she could.

      A cart trundled through the crowd, carrying a man and a woman with gunshot wounds. When the people saw it they began to rant at the soldiers and shake their fists, and, in response, the soldiers pulled their triggers and gunfire spurted over and over again. Nicky dropped to the ground to protect herself. Several tear gas canisters exploded quite close to her, and she pulled out the gauze mask, swiftly tied it around her face, covering her mouth and nose. Nevertheless, she began to cough and splutter almost immediately. Pushing herself up onto her feet, she inched her way over to the far side of the pavement, where she sought refuge under a clump of trees.

      Leaning against a tree trunk, Nicky continued to cough and gasp for breath for a few more minutes, and her eyes watered. She found a tissue in her pocket and wiped her streaming eyes; although she continued to heave for a short while, she soon began to breathe easier, felt a bit better.

      The smoke was clearing, and she swung her head, looked about. Some sixty or so soldiers were advancing with fixed bayonets down Changan. She closed her eyes convulsively. Pessimistic though she had been, she had not anticipated anything quite like this. When she opened her eyes a second later she spotted Arch a few yards away. He was glancing from side to side worriedly, and she knew that he was seeking her.

      Running forward, she cried, ‘Arch! Arch! I’m here!’

      He swung around just as she reached him, and grabbed hold of her, pulled her to him. ‘Nicky! You’re all right!’

      ‘And you, Arch,’ she said.

      ‘Have you ever seen anything like this carnage?’ he cried, his face as grim as hers. ‘It’s horrible, the way they are killing innocent civilians, and the avenue is so jammed with tanks and trucks, the ambulances can’t get through to help the wounded.’

      ‘They’re inhuman,’ she said, and began to shiver uncontrollably.

      ‘The monstrous ways of man,’ Arch muttered. Tightening his grip on her, he added, ‘Let’s get the hell out of here.’

      Crouching low, they ran down the pavement under the shelter of the trees, returning to Tiananmen Square.

      The moment they hit the square Nicky was struck by the curious calm which lay over it. The atmosphere was peaceful, weirdly so.

      She and Arch slackened their pace, and continued up to the Martyrs’ Monument at a steady, easy jog. Some of the press corps had returned, were gathered there once more, chatting amongst themselves. From the expressions on their faces, she could see they were as distressed as she and Arch by what they had just witnessed on Changan.

      Yoyo and Mai were standing nearby talking with a small group of students, and Nicky headed over to them, drew them away from

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