The view from here is beautiful.

Tech7 stands against the sunset, her soft curves silhouetted against the glorious hues of magenta and vivid orange. Her brown hair has rivulets of curls towards the bottom and strands are caught by the wind and blow gently, cascading around her long, slender neck. The breeze passes my nostrils and I catch a whiff of her scent - Chance by Chanel.

I wage a battle much more difficult than fighting Al Qaida or any host of bad guys and world threats - as I fight every primal urge and suppress my desire to tell her how I feel about her.

She turns. Her eyes catch mine and for a moment I see not only the reflection of the brilliant sky in her big luminous eyes, but a spark of understanding and I think, and perhaps hope, that perhaps we share this same desire.

"No time for enjoying the view, we got a job to do." Tech2 says, spoiling the moment. I know he doesn't do it on purpose, or because he may too have feelings for her - at least that's what I tell myself.

The SLBattleTech Hummer H2 sits in the distance. Its six liter Vortec 6000 engine has been massively modified and the horsepower it now puts out has jumped from 316 to 830. Twin turbochargers and a prototype titanium block and cylinder heads for unsurpassed longevity under pressure have been employed to produce this prodigal power plant.

The original H2 delivered to the SLBattleTech group was painted a glow-in-the-dark shade called Sunset Orange Metallic. It has since been repainted a standard desert camouflage. Standard body panels were removed, impressions made and replaced with a composite similar to the chobham armor employed in the Abrams A1M2 main battle tanks.

The weight ballooned from a hefty 6400 pounds to a gargantuan 10,200 pounds. This puts the power to weight ratio at 12.2. Not bad for an armored vehicle.

The SLBattleTech H2 has been put into very limited production for folks who often find themselves in harms way - folks like us. The Secret Service has two of them - one in Texas and one in D.C.

Thanks to the Blair-Bush friendship, MI5 got their hands on one of them to use in Saudi Arabia.

Here we are among the Whitetank mountains, putting us and the SLBH2 through its paces as if we were going after Saddam in the Iraqi desert.

"Would you drive? I'm exhausted." I say and toss the keys to Tech7.

"Sure," she says, "Let's roll."

I can't help but watch her stride authoritatively into the cabin and watch as her aquiline and slender fingers get a firm grip on the stainless steel shifter.

"Buckle yourself in boys - it's time you learn how to drive."

Tech2 laughs a slightly derisive laugh but I know she means business and buckle up in the modified harnesses. I take a firm grip upon the dash mounted support handle and prepare for the worst - or best.

Tech7 looks over at me, sees my preparation and white knuckle grip upon the handle, and smiles a wicked smile.

Her foot mashes the pedal even before she has engaged drive and as she shifts the gears four tires spin momentarily in wanton abandon until the TCS Traction Control system catches up and the tires grab the desert ferociously and the SLBH2 lurches forward with the acceleration normally accompanying a GT-40 driven by Jacky Ickx.

She laughs a lilting laugh, and manually shifts from first into second at about 60mph. The engine sounds spectacular - a whine that only a twin turbo can create that keeps building like some banshee from hell in a screaming contest with the furies. She shifts into drive straight from second and in a moment we are doing over a hundred miles per hour and accelerating with distinct force.

At 130 mph the desert is racing by in a blur. The broken and aged asphalt is threatening to flip us over if she hits a pothole of sufficient size, but fortunately the 10,000 pound plus vehicle is very flat footed. Even at 140mph the frontal lift is far less than any sports car and the harmonic resonance issues have been dealt with superbly. She keeps the car straight and true and follows the curves of the empty road expertly, even at these speeds.

At 150 she backs off the pedal and the screaming banshee wail subsides and vanishes. My heart is beating furiously and Tech7 looks over and smiles again, "It's sort of flat after 130 isn't it?"

I laugh and she begins to laugh too - a sweet, delicious laughter that only she can deliver.

"Not bad" is the judgment delivered by Tech2. By his tone one can tell he is referring both to the SLBH2 and the driving skills of Tech7.

I look over at Tech7, her sparkling teeth, her graceful yet jutting jawline and know that that is the understatement of the year. She knows I am staring at her, and probably knows what I am thinking too.

"Was it good for you too?" she asks towards the back seat and where Tech2 is sitting. The words are playful and full of her joy and her pride and take a jab at my emotional transparency.

Tech2 doesn't get a chance to answer. Rumsfeld's voice can be heard over the Coalition Audio Teleconference Secure (C-ATS) speaker, "Was what good for me Tech7?"

"Oh Sutherland!" Tech7 whispers.

Tech7 has gotten into the habit of replacing profanity with actors whose prime was in the seventies. Sutherland, Hackman and Redford are particularly obscene examples.

We have forgotten that the C-ATS system when installed picks up all internal audio when the remote link at command has been activated.

"Nothing sir, we were just having a bit of fun at Tech1's expense."

"Well you're not out there in a half million dollar car to have fun now are you?"

Rumsfeld is not in a good mood and it shows. The tension at the Pentagon has been tangible and it is obvious to those who know him that the recent briefing of Congress regarding Iraq has left him both emotionally and physically drained.

I get on the horn, "Tech7 was doing a bang up job of testing the vehicle Mr. Secretary. What's up sir?"

Rumsfeld hates it when I address him as "Mr. Secretary" and he knows I do it when I feel he is berating someone who doesn't deserve berating.

"Ah, Tech1, you were the one I was trying to reach, they gave me this link when I buzzed Shamballa. We have had another incident in Qatar and I want you to activate 2 more teams, both in Kuwait and Qatar."

"Will do. I just have a SOCOM division out here in the desert, familiarizing themselves with some special vehicles and equipment before it leaves by rail for the port."

"Good. I may head out that way next week and drop by sometime to see how things are coming along. Oh and Tech7, yes, young lady, it was good for me too."

Rumsfeld laughs and disconnects.

Tech7 turns a shade of crimson and she looks at me with a mix of embarrassment and perhaps a hint of anger. The spark in her eyes has been replaced by the wound to her pride.

Tech2 whispers into my ear, "Ah poor boy, you're back to square one."

He leans back and laughs.

Tech7 turns and looks at me and again there is her gentle look of understanding - but it is more distant and viewed through a wall of duty which always manages to keep us together yet apart.

The bright hues are gone and the sky is now dark. The winds howl across the barren wastes and scrape the cliffs and mountainsides with their scratchy fingers.

SDAI-Tech1