"I'm sorry I had to cut you off like that this afternoon," Wayne said casually. "It was just impossible to ignore the- my business meeting." He tried to plant a kiss on her cheek as she stepped pointedly aside. "Uhmmm- what's- how's Gloria, is she still awake?"

"Barely." Her tone was deliberately cool, and she watched for his reaction.

"I'd better get up there and see her." He tossed his jacket on the chair and head out of her office.

"Don't be long." She shut the door before he could respond, waited a beat and then went to his jacket. Finding nothing of interest there, she opened his briefcase. A file labelled, Yamashita Tomoyuki caught her eye and she flipped it open and began reading. A tingle traced a path up her spine as she absorbed the information on the handwritten notes appended to the main pages. A gold treasure! She closed the file and replaced everything as it was, awaiting his return. Let's see if Wayne shares this interesting development, she mused aloud as she settled behind her desk—her throne of authority.

Wayne excused the therapist and sat on the stool beside the table where his wife's frail form rested under a cotton sheet. He took her hand and winced at the dry, lifeless feel of her skin. Her eyes fluttered, and he forced his features into a smile as she focused on him.

"Hello, darling, how are you feeling?"

She stared without recognition.

"I just finished work. It's a lovely day outside, have you been out at all?"

Her eyes held his and he felt as if she had climbed into his brain, accusing him of something of which he had no idea.

"Can I uh- can I get you anything?" He mimed a drink but her face remained stony. After a moment, the therapist returned and apologized for having to cut his visit short; Gloria was due for her bath and meds. At the mention of medications, her eyes flashed with what might have been fear, but it was over quickly and he sighed, leaning down to kiss her parchment dry cheek before saying goodbye.

Susan glanced up when he came in, her eyebrows raised in question.

"She didn't even know me. She's so frail, Susan. God."

"Life isn't kind, Wayne."

"Certainly not to her. There was a moment just before I left that she seemed to react to something... like she was trying to communicate."

"Maybe because you were leaving."

"No. It was when Rod mentioned her medication." He exhaled and sagged into a chair. "Ah, who knows. Maybe if she let go it would be a blessing."

Susan made a mental note about the reaction, then went around and joined him where he sat in the large chair.

"So what was your big emergency at work?"

He stretched his legs and considered his answer. The fact that she had wormed her way into his life, both personal and business, wasn't as upsetting as her growing assumption that he was somehow subservient to her. Susan had been of immense help with his wife, and that he did appreciate. As well, the intimacy she willingly provided; it was the cost that niggled.

She prodded him with a finger.

"Have you ever heard of Bishop Gravestone?"

She smiled to herself. "No. Who is he?"

"A competitor in an area of interest where my company has invested considerable money."

My company! She frowned at the possessive but let it pass. "What area, Wayne?"

"Antiquities."

Bingo! "I don't understand. What do you have to do with antiquities?"

He shifted in the chair and she took the opportunity to get up and settle onto his lap. She listened carefully to his long story about the humiliating loss of The Viking Seal, the project he was sponsoring, during which he was shot and his daughter killed. This was the first she knew of why those events happened and now she was learning about his latest interest—Yamashita's Gold. Susan was surprised and stunned at this side of Wayne, a side she hadn't suspected.

An international entrepreneur, dealing in any and everything where it was possible to turn a dollar. She knew that Rita, his daughter, was an assassin and an addict, and that she had shot him but this was the first she knew of the circumstances. And the explanation about the woman who had killed Rita, a Gretta Lawrence, clarified much of his obsession to best her. This was a very interesting, new, Wayne.

Gravestone was his major competition and had been for a number of years but both men were haunted over defeats by the mysterious Gretta Lawrence and an organization named, CONGA. A number of years ago in Mexico, Gravestone had undergone a similar disaster to Wayne's, Viking Seal, costing him thousands of dollars and a number of employees. Now both men were in competition again and consequently, expecting CONGA to show its annoying face at some point during their hunt. Considering her position, Susan felt it was her right to be involved with this, Yamashita Gold project and immediately applied herself to that end.

                                                            ><><><><

Wayne came out of the shower in his private room and smiled at Susan who was repairing her hair and makeup at the vanity mirror on his dresser. She turned on the stool and crossed her bare legs. His tongue danced over his lips as he stared at her.

"Tell me how we're going to get this gold, Wayne."

His smile faded and he knew that all her obliging between the sheets was little more than Susan Duncan solidifying her position; he felt a draining of energy from his limbs.

                                                         ><><><><

Gretta pulled the hood over her hair and shrugged at Arny who was looking disgusted at the pouring rain running off his head in the open-topped Land Rover. Pete had a hat too, only Arny was bareheaded.

"Is this common?"

"Oh yes. Much rain this time of year. Monsoon season." He said the last with a little too much cheer for Arny.

"Pull over there under that stand of trees." Gretta said, tapping Pete's shoulder.

"Is this going to be the pattern?"

"Could be, Arny. I can't control the weather. Get something dry from the pack and if you go in the pocket of my rucksack you'll find a cap you can wear." She opened her map and plotted their progress, showing Pete approximately where she wanted to stop for the night.

"You want me to wear this?" Arny said with disgust, holding up a plastic, flowered shower cap. "What the hell is it for anyway?"

"In case I have to go rooting around in tunnels and things. It keeps the spiders and such out of my hair."

"Swell." He yanked it on and climbed back into his seat. Pete covered his mouth again and swallowed a giggle over Arny's venomous stare.

The drive was bone jarring in spots and the torrent of water roaring through the ditch alongside the track looked strong and deep enough to carry the Land Rover away. Arny hung on for dear life as Pete merrily plowed through potholes and around fallen branches. When he finally pulled off the road he pointed to an even narrower track that led away into the forest of trees and bushes.

End of the comfortable part of the trip, Arny, from here on it's on foot."

"Are we going to eat first?"

"Not only that, my prince, we're going to spend the night." She hopped out of the Rover and slugged the tent bag over to the side of the track, took out her machete and quickly cleared a spot in the undergrowth for her and Arny, then skillfully popped open the tent and set it in place. Pete clapped in amazement.

"She's amazing, isn't she," Arny grumped. He carried their other things into the tent and began to set up.

Gretta explained to Pete that she wanted him to drive the Rover into the cover of the bushes and hide it from sight then he could set his own tent up wherever he liked and they would get a fire started for cooking. Twenty minutes later, Arny sat with a tin of hot coffee and a confused expression.

"Could he have pitched it any closer? Christ, if I turn over in the night I might be in bed with him."

"He's cute, leave him alone."

"Cute! Cute! Gretta..."

"He wants to be close, what's the big deal? It's not like there's going to be anything going on for heaven's sake."

"Oh..." He sipped his coffee and sat in silence until the food was ready.

As they ate, Gretta explained what they hoped to find when they reached the area marked on her map. When the military was there, they had established a base camp and if they could find that, they could plot Chad's route to where he fell into the cave.

"How likely is it that we find this base camp site?"

"Depends on what's happened since they were here. Rain, monsoons, new growth... earthquakes... there may be nothing left to find."

"How grand. And how long do you plan searching?"

"Until I find something or I'm satisfied there is nothing to find." Her look halted another question. "What's the matter with you anyway? You've been on these hunts before and this one has just started."

"Maybe I'm getting too old to do this," he pouted, toying with his food.

"I'll make a note to place an ad when we get back," she countered.

"Hell, Gretta, you're no kid any more either. This soldier of fortune routine takes its toll you know."

"Are you saying something is wrong with me?" Pete covered his mouth again.

Shit. "No." He finished his food and took his dirty dishes away to rinse.

"I think man like lady." Pete offered, with a sage nod.

Gretta laughed and nodded back. "Yeah... lady likes man, too."

Pete giggled.