Manny Ortega sat in his tiny living room surrounded by his family and feeling like the king of the world. The children, eyes like dinner plates, let the rough stones sift through their fingers all the while laughing and giggling non-stop. Manny's wife, Maria, clasped her hands in prayer and let the tears flow freely down her rough, brown cheeks.

"We must be very smart about this," Manny cautioned, calling for quiet. "We cannot keep all this without bringing great trouble from the policia. We must turn most of it in, there will be plenty left for all our needs." Some of the children began to protest but both Manny and Maria made them understand the difference between greed and need and in the end, Manny selected what he assessed to be several thousand pesos worth of stones, packed up the rest and prepared to go to the airport lost and found with the stranger's backpack - he could buy another for himself now.

When he stepped out of his home he stopped and looked at the jeep parked in front of the gate. The woman was leaning an arm across the back of the passenger seat and watching him with an amused smile. Manny continued, clutching the pack close to his chest.

"Need a ride there, Mister Ortega?"

He stopped again and feigned ignorance of the language. Gretta repeated it in Spanish and Manny felt his legs go rubbery.

"No, gracias, Senorita." He opened the gate and started down the street at a fast clip. Gretta pulled the jeep alongside and called out to him again.

"Better get in, Manuel. We need to talk about your backpack."

Terrified, Manny went to the passenger door and looked in. "Is this your bag, Senorita? I found it in the concourse at my place of work; I was returning it to the lost and found. I have a bag just like this and I thought it was mine." Gretta considered the excuse and felt that it was possible but unlikely, still, she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and nodded appreciatively.

"Hop in, I'll take you back. The bag isn't mine but it belongs to the people I've been working with. If it contains what I think it does, we'll let them open it with your bosses. Okay?"

Manny felt there was no option. If he ran all would be lost. If he goes with the woman he can use the same story and he had to admit, it did sound credible.

"Very well, Senorita. Gracias." He climbed into the jeep and sat stiffly all the way to the airport.

Gretta pulled up and parked in front of the doors, placing a hand on his arm as he started to get out.

"Why go all the way home before opening the bag, Manuel?" He blinked at her expression and stuttered a vague reply. "But don't you usually change your cloths before leaving work?" Sweat broke out on his face and his fingers worked the material of the bag in his arms. "I mean, it seems odd you'd go all the way home, forgetting all about your lunch and changing your clothes."

"Senorita, I- I- I . . . "

"No time for that song now, Manuel, but it is time to sing." She pointed to the bag. "Is it all there?"

His mouth dried up and his eyes began to water; it was over and he knew it. Reluctantly, he passed the bag across to Gretta and hung his head. She felt sorry for guy and as she opened the bag she sucked in her breath sharply. There must have been hundreds of thousands of dollars in rough beryl stones, the basis for emeralds, lying in the bottom of the bag. No wonder Jack had a fit.

She closed the bag and handed it back. She knew without a doubt that some had found there way into the Ortega household and she felt just fine about that fact. The story on Manuel from his boss, made what she was sure was a small take, perfectly acceptable.

"Better get this inside to the lost and found, Senor Ortega." Her smile and nod lifted the weight of the world from his back and he grinned back, bobbing his head repeatedly as he exited the jeep and hurried inside.

Gretta pulled the jeep over to the parking lot and climbed out, stretching her tired limbs and scanning the wash of pastel colours in the sky.

"Impressive."

She jerked around at the sound of the voice and saw Jack leaning on a car in the row behind hers.

"Thank you." She smiled.

"He laughed and returned the smile good naturedly. "I meant the sky but I could agree without too much trouble. I saw my backpack go into the terminal, was everything in it?"

"Pretty much. A small finder's fee that won't be missed is the only difference."

"You're a real humanitarian aren't you?"

"I believe that people should have the things that belong to them and get to keep them." She leaned back against the jeep, arms folded. "So now what, Jack Cavanaugh?"

"I guess, unless you have other ideas, I make myself scarce in Peru and be thankful I'm still in one piece−"

"You can pass on that, old boy." The strained voice grated on the still air and both Jack and Gretta jumped to alert as Cyril came around the back of the jeep waving a large pistol in his left hand. He stopped near Jack but his attention was on Gretta; she was the object of his anger and the reason for his ruptured throat.

"Didn't think I'd get loose from that trussing up you gave me did you, love?"

"Didn't care, actually." She shifted her stance and watched the track of the gun follow her move. "But I am surprised. Somebody found you, right? Sorted out your broken arm?"

"Luckily for me, unfortunate for you." He backed up and waved the gun to his side. "This way, move." She walked toward Jack and slowed awaiting further instruction. "Keep going, love, around behind that sedan."

Gretta took another step and swiftly grabbed Jack by the arm as she passed him, whirled him around and into Cyril then dove behind the car. There was a shout, a shot and another shout and then silence. She stood slowly and waited. Cyril's leg was kicking and he shoved the limp form of Jack off his body at the same time trying to reach the gun he'd dropped. Gretta walked over and picked it up then backed away and waited for Cyril to drag himself to his feet.

"You lose again, Cyril . . . Jack too, I guess." The pool of blood seeped from beneath the still form of Jack, face down on the pavement. She motioned for him to head for the airport, his big gun dancing in her hand between his head and his chest.

********

With a sly nod to Gretta, Manny had refused any reward for the return of the backpack and had left as quickly as circumstances allowed. On the word of Sophia, who bargained for an opportunity to testify about the expedition, Warez formally charged Salvatore and Dante for the murder of Anton Varga. Cyril took the blame for Andy Stork and Jack Cavanaugh even though he protested both accusations and Gretta was led away to one of the airport offices to give a verbal and signed report of the events.

Sander stood by to back up her version insofar as he was personally involved. Arny also supported her story and was allowed to leave to get to the hospital where Chester had reportedly suffered a setback.

********

The curtains were drawn leaving the room in a grey gloom and Arny approached the bed with trepidation. Chester lay with his eyes closed and his breathing barely indicated by the minor stirring of the sheet over his frail chest.

"Professor?" Arny whispered, repeating the title until Chester's head stirred and his eyelids rose slowly.

"Arnold?" The voice was spidery and high.

"Yeah, it's me. What happened?"

"Where's Gretta?"

"She's still making her report to the authorities. What happened, Professor?"

Chester raised a hand and pointed to the door. "Close that."

Arny went back and closed the door and then returned bedside. Chester suddenly sat up with surprising agility.

"I told them I needed to return to Canada for the specialized treatment I'd been receiving and that Gretta was my attending nurse. The authorities would have to let her go to look after me."

"Jesus, Professor, do you realize the fright you gave us? Our last report was that you were fine and ready to leave hospital!" Arny grabbed the bed rail and breathed deeply. "Gretta isn't being held, everything's turned out fine except for this now. What do we say to the doctors?"

Chester flopped back and waved his hand. "Another miraculous turn for the better."

"Oh yeah. Well you can be the one to tell them and sort out the sham you perpetrated. I've got a lot of packing to do." Arny squeezed the old man's shoulder affectionately and left the room.

********

Captain Warez and Lieutenant Jivaro watched from the jeep as Gretta picked the small boy up and gave him a great long hug. She set him down and ruffled his hair then took something from her pocket and pressed it into his hand, saying something that the boy listened to earnestly then with one more hug, she headed back to the jeep, turning once more for a final wave.

"I think you have found a loyal friend there, senorita." Warez opened the door and leaned forward as she climbed into the back.

"He needs at least one, Captain." She watched Pakko examine her gift and slip the precious pendant ornament carefully into his tattered shorts. "I promised him a goodbye."

"He seemed to like your present."

She studied the back of the Captain's head for a moment. "I think so too."

There was a long moment of silence and she saw an infinitesimal shrug. "So, you leave in the morning then?"

"Yes. Professor Stilton is well enough to travel and should get back for a good examination by his own doctor." She gave her attention to the passing landscape and felt a little sadness over not having had time to enjoy this visit to Peru.

Warez chuckled at Sander's embarrassment when Gretta ignored his salute and grabbed him in a bear hug, muttering an affectionate goodbye and held his smile as she clambered into the small plane for her flight back to Callao. The two policemen saluted the plane as it lifted off and then returned to their jeep.

"I'm jealous, Lieutenant," Warez teased.

The young policeman nodded and managed a tentative smile. "I could give you a hug, sir."

Warez turned and gaped at the tranquil profile of his companion then broke into a hearty laugh.

EPILOGUE

Arny finished opening the mail and tossed it on the counter before stepping out of his shoes and leaping onto the sofa and landing on his back with a huge, satisfied sigh. He looked about the familiar room and closed his eyes, happy to be back in his own cocoon of existence and free of Gretta's world of tomb raiders and international mercenaries.

"At last!" He cried aloud.

"Our love is here to stay?" The question was fashioned in the form of the song and Arny sat bolt upright as Gretta wandered out from the bedroom wrapped in one towel and drying her hair with another.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were at the Congress today."

"Disappointed?"

"Of course not, just surprised." He sat up as she rounded the couch and sat beside him, legs pulled up under her. "I thought Chester would have you lecturing to the board about the Peruvian find."

"I did it all in an e-mail on the plane. There wasn't much to tell that they didn't get from the Peruvian government. The stuff Anton and Sophia took out was found in Salvatore's rental car and the emeralds were turned in by the airport employee."

"Yeah, that was weird, eh? Imagine some little cleaner finding the goods and turning them in; that in itself is worthy of mention."

"Hmmm."

The sun went down leaving the room in semi darkness and they sat together silently listening to the familiar noise of street traffic and big city sounds while she finished drying her hair, then Arny took one corner of the towel and pulled it away . . . slowly.

END

A/N: The dedication was to my one dedicated reader. Thanks, Missy