Joshua Danzig. Age, forty-six. Height, six foot three inches. Weight, one hundred and ninety pounds. Born, Essen, Germany. He examined his passport picture, pleased with the close-cropped, light brown hair and the dark blue eyes. The scar that vertically split one nostril and the upper lip lent a very sinister aspect to his face, both in repose and when he attempted a smile. He slipped it into his pocket, picked up his carry bag and left the hotel room. A taxi was idling in the hotel drive-through and he slipped into the back, uttering a one-word command. "Airport."

The driver glanced in his rearview mirror and decided against any small talk. His foot went down on the accelerator and he took the fastest route possible to his destination. Joshua looked out the window but none of the scenery registered. Instead, in his mind's eye, he envisioned the different stages of his mission, culminating in the moment he relished most of any contract—the execution of the competition.

He passed through the check-in line, collecting his boarding pass and then on to immigration and finally, customs. He watched his bag slide under the scanner emerging without question. Joshua went directly to his gate and boarded the moment he was allowed to. The pretty attendant took his jacket and hung it in the cabin for him and then brought him a glass of champagne and a bowl of mixed nuts. He touched her hand and smiled. She blinked as a trail of goose bumps slithered down her spine. He refused the offerings and said that he was going to sleep. The attendant just nodded and moved quickly to the next row. Joshua took out a small pill case and removed a tiny blue pill, dry swallowing it and reclining his seat.

The dream was a familiar one and he welcomed it like an old friend; it had been with him for a long, long time, one that he could summon with his special medication. It began with a bright sun on a sandy parking lot in front of a large general store. Leafy willows swayed at the perimeter, providing a choreographic background for the play, beginning on the parking lot. The fight had begun when a neighbour refused to move his pick-up truck until he had posted a letter.

The man in the other vehicle got out and smashed the truck wind shield with a hammer. Joshua had been hitching a ride in the back of the truck and was stunned, gasping at the measure of the man's violence. He wasn't frightened, but the incident kept him frozen where he was. The neighbour returned and the argument began in earnest. The two men stumbled about, bumping into both vehicles, throwing wild punches and cursing as they fell and got up again, to resume the combat. The neighbour took a blow to the side of the head and he threw a pleading glance at Joshua in the truck, his eyes darting toward the rifle mounted behind the driver's seat.

When the irate driver finally clubbed Joshua's neighbour to the ground, Joshua jumped into the cab and grabbed the rifle, levering a shell into the chamber and sticking the gun out the window. The man looked up and snickered, wiping a smear of blood from his nose across his face. He kicked once at his opponent on the ground and swaggered toward the truck. The noise in the confined space was tremendous as the gun bucked in Joshua's hands. When he recovered, he looked out at the body of the man sprawled on the road, half of his head a shattered mess of blood and goo. The neighbour struggled to his feet, staring at the corpse and then turned to Joshua, his mouth hanging open in shock and disbelief, his eyes wide, and took the next shot squarely between them. Joshua experienced a thrill like nothing before and he remained seated in the truck cab until the police arrived to take him away.

Everyone had shown such concern, sympathy and even understanding for the young boy and the shock he underwent. How his act was borne out of sheer fright and instinct and they always made certain he swallowed all his medication before locking the door to his empty, padded room.

Years of study and therapy went into his rehabilitation and when the day finally arrived that he was judged stable and capable of conducting himself properly in a normal environment, eight long years had passed. When he stepped into the sunshine a free man, equipped with a mantra of self-help and a bag full of medications, Joshua was twenty years of age and his first night of sleep away from the institution was spent among the comforting images of his never forgotten dream.

The plane touched down and the attendant tapped his arm, asking him to gather his things in preparation for their arrival. Joshua looked up at her and a red film spread behind his eyes. He continued to stare until she nervously hurried down the aisle to the galley. Awaking always left him with the gnawing sensation of being incomplete. The urge, which often grew during his dream state, was becoming unbearable. He needed to sate his mind's demand for conclusion.

Once in the terminal, he searched around for a suitable subject. He entered the washroom and his nerves twanged with elation. There was just one other occupant and before the man could even react, Joshua clamped a hand over his mouth and dragged him from the urinal into a stall where he slit his throat, held his head over the toilet, and watched as it filled with blood.

He rinsed his hands, combed his hair and heaved a huge sigh. The urge had been satisfied and he was back on track for his mission.

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"We're just gonna let them go? What about the police?"

"Arny, think back. We left a bit of a mess in there. Granted, it wasn't all or fault, but that won't matter to the authorities... particularly over here. And we are poking around in what could be considered national treasure. Trust me, our best bet is to leave here as quickly and as quietly as possible."

Vincent, Strom, Harley and the two Filipinos sat on a bench inside the hanger of the private airfield with a CONGA agent keeping them under armed guard.

"So what about the gold then?" Arny persisted in tossing out questions.

"It isn't going anywhere. We can come back after a while, or somebody else from the Congress will, and dig it up. They'll also have to formalize a procedure for turning it over to the proper authorities.

"I still don't like the idea of letting them go. Who's to say they won't come after us?"

"What for? They know the way the game is played. Some win. Some lose."

"Yeah... the dead guys."

"Nobody said this business wasn't risky."

"What about your friend Pete and that Han guy, they don't play the same game?"

"I'll have a chat with them before we leave."

Arny shook his head, bewildered, and wandered over to where the pilot was finishing refuelling the helicopter.

"Ready to go, sir?"

"Ask her." He climbed aboard and sank into a seat, closing his eyes.

Gretta came over and gave the pilot his orders then waved to the other agent to bring the prisoners to the chopper. She separated the Filipinos and stood talking to them for several minutes then left them standing on the edge of the field.

"Vincent," she smiled. Placing a hand on his flinching back. "You three are coming with us. They'll be left here; they can find their own way back to wherever."

"Where are we going?"

"I said. With us." She smacked his back and pushed him toward the chopper door.

"You're leaving them with the knowledge of the gold?" Strom complained.

"You don't have to worry about that; they won't be getting any of it."

The pilot set down in a searing heat in Zamboanga and proceeded to deal with the airline authorities for continued transport to Sandakan in North Borneo, while the others retreated to the lounge for a cool drink and some welcome air conditioning. Gretta had switched the rope chain on the men for handcuffs provided by the CONGA agent, which kept them in a close, cosy group.

An hour later a haggard pilot returned with the necessary clearance and urged them all to board before some other bureaucrat found additional forms to process. The flight was about three hundred miles with a stop at Jolo, in the Sulu Archipelago, for fuel and food. It was evening when they landed in North Borneo and spent another few hours organizing the next leg of the journey for Gretta and Arny.