Gretta sat with her legs crossed and the map opened across her lap. Her hair hung down over one shoulder in a careless ponytail, catching some of the morning sun, and Arny stared dreamily at the wheat-coloured highlights.

"If everything falls in place we should be very near the original base camp site by late this afternoon. It depends on the terrain, but I've built in a few hours leeway."

"Another forced march?"

"Yes."

He heard the tone and quickly retreated.

Pete bundled up the gear and stood smiling, waiting for Gretta's, 'Wagons ho!' signal. She didn't disappoint and after a few minutes of juggling packs, they resumed their trek up the mountain slope and onto a fairly large and flat plateau. Many of the trees and bushes were present but not with the previous density, which left them more exposed to a determined sun.

"Could use a little of that rain right now." Arny grumbled, wiping the sweat from his eyes.

"Careful what you wish for; these plains flood."

"Can't you ever get an assignment in a city somewhere, you know, where they have parks and cars and restaurants and things?"

"You'd hate it."

"Of course I would." He smiled to himself as he followed her relentless pace across the plain. She had him pegged to the core. He couldn't bitch constantly if he had everything his way, and bitching to Gretta was a great sport.

Pete stopped suddenly and turned back, waving at them to get down, which they did, raising their heads cautiously to see what the problem was.

"Not some wild animal I hope." Arny whispered.

Pete scrambled back and lay down beside them.

"Tobacco."

"What? What did he say? Tobacco? What, he wants a smoke?" Arny crowded closer.

Gretta gave him a disgusted look. "He smells it." Her eyes raked the horizon. "His nose is obviously very sensitive to inappropriate smells." She slipped her binoculars from her pack and scanned the plain for several minutes, stopping suddenly and concentrating on one area.

"See something?" Arny asked.

"Something flashed in the trees near that little cut in the skyline. It lo- there it is again!" She lay back on her pack, chewing a lip. "We have company for sure. Problem is, are they friendlies or not."

"You think they saw us too?"

"Hard to tell but we can't chance that they didn't." She sat up and adjusted her pack. "Back the way we came until we can get below the horizon, and then we'll swing around to their flank."

"You think they're at the base camp site?"

"Maybe. If not I figure they're awfully darn close." The trio scrambled back at a painful crouch, their backs and legs screaming, until they finally tumbled down a slope off the plateau.

                                                            ><><><><

The man walked to the edge of the clearing and threw his cigarette butt into the bushes. He didn't want any trace of his having been there when the Lawrence party arrived; his employer would not take kindly to him giving their presence away. Han Pok had greedily accepted Vincent's offer of work, and a promise to be on site and ready for when he arrived. Han had done work with Vincent before and was eager for more of the Canadian's money. This particular job seemed easy since Han already knew where the old military base was located; his uncle had been part of the Huk insurgents who battled the lumber cartels' forces. His sympathies lay with the lumber companies because they were fighting for money and power and not simply a principle. He looked forward to carrying on the tradition of fighting for hire with the added advantage of not being answerable to anything but success. Han enjoyed the violent side of mercenary work.

The beep from his satellite radio drew him quickly across the clearing, and he slipped on the headset and keyed the receiver.

"Han, it's Vincent. I'm about thirty minutes out in the helicopter. We'll need a flare to pinpoint your location."

"I'm ready, Mr. Vincent. See you soon."

"And Han, get a goddam cell phone will you. That clunky bloody thing you have isn't coming on any trek with me."

                                                            ><><><><

The helicopter banked, following the woolly thread of green smoke from the flare, to where it settled into a stationary hover over the designated area. Vincent looked down and then at the pilot.

"What are we waiting for?"

"I can't land this thing down there. Are you friggin' blind? Look at the trees."

"What the hell are we supposed to do now?"

"I'll lower the ladder, get down as low as possible, and you climb down."

Vincent's eyes and mouth widened and his jaw dropped. "Climb down? Do I look like friggin' Tarzan?"

"I might find a spot two or three miles from here; you can walk in." The chopper bucked in the sudden wind buffeting the trees, and he worked to steady the machine. "Make up your mind; I can't hold this thing here all day."

"Jesus- aah, Christ." Vincent looked at his companion who just shrugged and pulled his earplugs out.

"I'll go first, Vince."

Several terrifying minutes later Vincent dropped the last few feet into Harley's arms, and swore as his lack of athleticism knocked them both to the hard ground. The helicopter revved up and lifted away leaving a downdraft that carried Vincent's hat off into the bush.

"Godammit! Go find that," he screamed at Han, who had stayed well back, observing the aerial trapeze. Han trotted off on command. Vincent stayed on the ground, his temper peaking and then declining as the noise of the helicopter faded into the distance.

"Welcome, Mr. Vincent." Han Pok returned and dashed forward to help his boss to his feet, handing him his runaway hat. "You are an adventurous man."

Vincent snarled something foul and waved at Harley. "This is Han Pok. He's our specialist on the ground."

"Pleasure." Harley gripped the small man's hand and pumped it enthusiastically. "Harley Biggs." He glanced at the long blade of the machete hanging from Han's belt and then at the empty look in the surprisingly, grey eyes.

"Well, have you learned anything? Seen any sign of anyone?" Vincent paced around, brushing twigs and dirt from his new bush jacket.

"Nothing, Mr. Vincent. I have positioned this site on your map." He opened it up and held it out for Vincent to see.

"So we can assume then that this is the real base camp site and the patrol went out in that general direction."

"I think. Yes."

"That's a helluva lot of territory, Vince." Harley adjusted the volume on his iPod while they checked the rifles and handguns Han had provided.

"It can't be too big an area. The incident we're looking at took place at night with a small patrol. I don't imagine they ranged too far." Vincent finished dusting himself off and set his bush hat squarely on his head.

"Are we starting right away?"

"What, you wanna sunbathe or something?"

"I'm hungry."

"Jesus Christ, Harley..." Vincent poked around in the pockets of his jacket and fished out a packet of gum. "Eat this." He tossed it at him and then waved to Han to grab the gear and move out.

                                                            ><><><><

"That was too close. If we had stayed up there, the helicopter would have seen us easily." She examined a scrape on her elbow.

"Is that Gravestone's people?" Arny asked.

"I don't know... probably. Or Jenner's."

"I thought you said they didn't work together."

"If they did make a deal it'll only be temporary; they are fierce competitors."

"Meaning whoever finds something first screws the other guy."

"Or worse."

"Lovely."

Gretta crawled back up to the edge of the plain and scanned the area through her binoculars. She waved Pete alongside and asked him if they could reach their destination by moving parallel to the plane and coming up at a point she indicated, further to the north.

"Yes, but very tricky route, Miss Lawrence. Very thick bush and many..." He pulled a face and then made an undulating motion with his hand, shrugging.

"Ravines?" She made a vee with her hands and he smiled and giggled, nodding.

"I think we'll chance it anyway." She waved to Arny indicating the new direction and the trio moved out.