Then the beating began. One of the new arrivals punched Christopher hard in the face. Two others grabbed his arm and started dragging him across the street. Totten tried to pull Christopher's arm away, without success, and was shoved back. For the first time Hitch looked scared. He shouted for help: "We are American journalists!" Nobody came to our aid. With mounting horror, it struck me that they might push Christopher into a car and take him away. Instead, he was thrown to the ground, landing hard between two parked cars and one of the young men went after him, kicking him. The sight of a 60-year-old man - and my friend - being kicked was sickening. I went up with my hands held high and shouted at them to stop. A youth with a furious expression on his face ran up and kicked me while someone else punched me in the cheek from behind.

No one from the café moved to help us. The policeman we had spoken to earlier was no longer in sight. Then a squat middle-aged man in a sweatshirt and open leather jacket, who seemed to be the leader of the attackers, said something to the youth kicking Christopher. He backed off. Christopher climbed uneasily to his feet, blood staining the arm of his blue shirt, just as another taxi pulled up to the intersection. The three of us jumped in with Hitch in the front seat. This time, when we asked the cabbie to "just drive", he did so. Fortunately, the street was clear ahead. As we accelerated past the gang, one of them reached in an open window to punch Hitch once more in the face. Fearful of being followed, we had the driver take us to a big international hotel in another part of town.