We had been assured there were no civilians caught between the lines in central Mogadishu.
Moving through the warren of obliterated buildings it was hard to imagine anyone could survive in the no-man's land separating the fighters of the Shabaab Islamic militia, and the combined forces of the government and the African Union. Heavy machine-guns thundered armour-piercing rounds into the Shabaab barricades and volleys of automatic gunfire came back.
Moving through a hole in the wall punched by an artillery shell, we found ourselves face to face with a sweet stall, two women dozing on a mattress with a few jars of sugary delights and some phone cards.
But then the women were on their feet, pulling their multi-coloured wraps above their knees and tucking them into the combat trousers worn beneath. Two AK-47s were slid out from under the mattress. In less than a minute there were no civilians, just two soldiers from the transitional government force.
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