Docs Viewer

Upload, preview, download, and write quick documents without Word.

+ New Document

RAIN FOREST BOOK 1

RAIN FOREST BOOK 1.html

DownloadOpen in Editor
RAIN FOREST BOOK 1THE RAINFOREST PROJECTA NovelPROLOGUEA beautiful oak tree overshadowed most of the background view, making it difficult to catch a keen glimpse of the children running frantically about the schoolyard. Its arms stretched gloriously, and it seemed as if one might reach out and grab you. The golden leaves drifted into autumn breeze, slowly descending to their death.But the existence of life was reassured when one glanced upon the beautiful young girl sitting upon the huge roots that bulged beneath, twirling through a book of some sort with a smile of thin patience amidst the sounds of administrators directing mischief about. The traffic was slow, and finally you could hear her begin to shout, showing attentiveness as she gathered her things into her backpack. She rose from the old tree eagerly, looking quite splendid in her plaid uniform. The door of a black and affluent luxury car flung open."Dad," cried the beautiful girl as she marched toward the opening."How's my little girl," uttered the driver softly."I'm doing fine, Daddy!""How was school?""It was OK! We played on the playground and had a Halloween party. I even ate some cupcakes.""Well boo, what did you learn today?""What did I learn, Daddy? I didn't learn anything today.""You didn't learn anything? That's not why I am paying for this private education, is it?" He looked at his daughter as if she was the culprit. "I think I need to have a talk with someone!" Car horns honked as he pressed the breaks anxiously."Shit! Watch where you're going! These people need to have their driving audited! It's ridiculous!""Daddy, what did you say?""I didn't say anything.""Ahh-hun, Daddy. You said…""Hey! I don't wanna hear it. Daddy said a bad word, and you better not let me catch you saying one."A liberal smile rained across her little face and curiosity set in. Hardly much was said the rest of the ride home, each apparently caught up in looking at the scenery. Just a few blocks from home, the girl saw a boy dressed in a Count Dracula costume who appeared joyful. "Daddy, are we going trick-or-treating tonight?""We sure are, and we're going to collect a lot of goodies.""Yeah!" The car thumped a bit as it ascended the raised driveway, and they were home at last. He couldn't quite park in the four-car garage because it was already full. There was also a huge boat parked in the driveway. They jumped out and the girl sprinted toward the gorgeous oak doors. She was in a hurry to greet her mother, but her dad followed only by casual advancements, and his mind seemed to be drifting."Mommy, Mommy!""Hello, my little sugar pie. How was school?""It was fine. Daddy said we're going trick-or-treating.""Yes, and we're going to get a lot of candy.""Oh yeah.""OK Pookey, go get out of your school clothes and put on some play clothes.""We're going outside!" cried the little one."No, you are going to clean your room, or no trick-or-treating…. Well, hello handsome!" she said as her husband entered the house. "How was your day?""It was OK, I might say, and yours?""I just ran a few errands, got a trick-or-treat costume for our angel — and some champagne for tonight after our beautiful girl is tucked away.""Hmmm," he said with a grim but sensual smile. The two kissed and hugged each other because everything between them was great. They were rich, fairly young, and had a beautiful daughter. He treated her with love and respect, and she treated him likewise."Mom! Dad! What will I wear?"Parting abruptly from their lustful embrace, her mom replied, "I brought you a Sleeping Beauty costume.""Ooohh! Mom, can I put it on! Please! Please!""Not yet dear, it's not quite time for trick-or-treat, and besides, we would eat dinner first.""Can I just look at it, then?""OK. It's in the bag on the bedroom floor next to my desk." The little one darted upstairs as her parents continued where they had left off with the mush. Several smacks repeated each other until she declared breathlessly, "I'd better get dinner ready!" However, the kisses continued as she pried herself loose from the grasping arms of her husband. "You wanna eat, don't ya?" she said with humorous sarcasm. He finally gave into the demands and allowed her to slowly slip away, but he pretended that she was sneaking away and tried vainly not to let her. He blew her one last kiss and then proceeded to his den to take care of some business while she prepared dinner.As she finished putting the final touches on dinner, the sunset began its display in the western sky and she proceeded upstairs. "Dainisa, did you finish your room? Honey, dinner's about ready." There was no response, so she peeked through the door and noticed that the room was half clean. What can you expect from a six-year-old, she thought. She stepped down the hall to the master bedroom to find her daughter engulfed in her Halloween costume. It was obvious that she had even tried it on. "Hey, Princess! What are you doing!?"Her mom's comments startled the little girl, and the look crossed her face that said she knew that her mom expected the mischief. The clothes were wrinkled in a way that told on her. "I know you didn't put that outfit on.""No Mommy. I was just looking at it.""Go downstairs and sit at the table" her mother said in a voice that meant business as she pointed her finger to give direction. The little one scattered downstairs to sit at her normal spot at the dinner table. "Rich," she then said as she proceeded down hall toward a narrower door about 30 feet away. She reached the door and placed her hand on the knob, pushed the door open just enough to get her head through the doorway, and peaked around the corner. The dim room was illuminated by only a single lamp connected to a massive cherry oak desk. "Rich, are you in here?" She sent her soft cry into the room where he usually worked on his writing, and where he went to have a little peace to himself. "Rich," she once again uttered in her tenderest voice. Then she half-shouted, "Hey!" With a sudden jolt he had his hands around her waist. She nearly jumped into the room, startled more than she could ever remember. "Stop that," she said with a sudden sigh of relief.He began to hug and kissed her passionately, while rubbing his crotch up against her very thin nightgown. She could feel his print rub against her and it felt as if his lifegiving muscle pulsated with pleasure. She then suddenly snapped out of it, firmly stating, "Go eat," with her look of business, but deep beneath she was holding the rages of nature within. The longer he remained in her presence the more difficult it was to avoid succumbing to fleshful urges of love and lust.Finally, they were all at the table, and the young girl's mother sat down after fixing everyone hearty plates. "Mom, what took you so long?" she asked innocently."I had to go find Daddy, Dear.""Where were you, Daddy?""I was making you a surprise.""For real?""Yes Boo, but it's a surprise. I can't tell you, at least not until later." Mrs. Dickenson sat with a puzzled look, while Daddy's little girl had her way. "Oh Darling, this roast is delicious. You must have taken your time on this one.""I'm glad you're enjoying it.""Yeah, Mommy. It's good.""Well, thank you, Sweetie. Make sure you eat all of those green peas too, not just your meat." The little girl began gobbling up all her food, but besides that, there was an eerie silence looming in the air.Richard broke the silence with the loud clatter his fork made from being rigidly placed upon fine china. "I have a meeting with the board tomorrow.""What is the purpose of this meeting, Dear?""Well, it's to get funding for this project." "Oh my, aren't we secretive! What project?""To build a shipyard in South America. I also want to build the resort on other portions of South America.""What? Have you found your Latin women now, hmmm?" Susan was trying to sound like she was joking, but there was hint of distrust in her voice. Her voice now betrayed her doubts completely as she said, "I don't know, Dear. That seems like an awful lot.""Look! I just wanted your support, and you're being negative.""I am not being negative, and you have always had my support. I just want to make sure nothing happens to you — and the only way I can assure that is to make sure that you are as happy with me as possible.""I know, but once this is over, we will be set for generations. Everything will be fine, then.""Honey, we already have enough. We don't really need anymore.""Look, this is what I do. This is my career. I am a businessman! I capitalize on opportunities, and this one I can not let slip by.""Hmmm, you're also an insensitive man!""What!" Richard sucked his teeth hard and continued as if uninterrupted. "I may be out of town for several days, for a potential presentation. Would you like to attend?""Sure, Honey. I would love to go. It beats this house.""Mommy, I'm finished!""OK, Dear!" her mother said submissively. "Go wash your hands and face and then go in my room. I'll be right there.""We're finally going trick-or-treating, huh Mom, huh? Are we?""Yes! Now hurry along, Dear." The girl darted with excitement, nearly stumbling over the stairs because of the eagerness that rose inside her. After dressing her in the splendid Sleeping Beauty costume, her mother began to take pictures, catching some of the brightest smiles imaginable. The man of the house joined them, and they set out for a night in the neighborhood, gathering candies and joy for their little sweet one. All the sounds of night echoed, and grim sounds of trick-or-treat rained from a house in the distance. The little girl sprinted up to every door, leaving her parents to wait behind at the sidewalk. She was sure to fill her bag as full as possible, for it was in her blood. Is it not her father who's bred to capture and seize all opportunities, no matter the cost? She even rudely surpassed some of the other children in seeking to fill her bag with goodies. Having no fear, the little one shoved some of the older children to make her space in the front of the group at the door, to seize her opportunity. In spite of her mischief, her parents could not help but let her enjoy herself.After a few hours, her feet were sore after a long stroll through the neighborhood, and Dainisa had sticky fingers and lips from the many treats she had devoured on the way home. The night was breezy, but not quite cool. A nice fresh fall essence gloomed about the night. Soon there were little lights left on in the streets, and it appeared that trick-or-treating was over. It seemed that they were the last ones on the block still walking through the night. Despite that notion, there was no rush to get home. In fact, this was a romantic setting with joy as the catalyst. Life seemed promising, and indeed it would be for the ideal American family, the family happily chasing the American Dream. They traveled down a long newly paved street that included a beautiful landscape of hedges and trees, all tiered and in front of immaculate brick houses. The family approached a large Emory brick house that outshined all the rest. The beautiful driveway lighting was one reason this house outshone the rest, but the steel gate that was black as raw oil and pointed straight in the air like large spears was another reason this property stood out among its neighbors. The gate was almost too tall for anyone to attempt to climb it. Its stature was indeed intimidating, as was the guard who stood in a booth dead center of the steel gated entrance. Steel designs that curled about like ribbons gave the entrance a true royal feeling."Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Dickenson.""Hello, Hayword," Rich intoned in voice that seemed lackadaisical. They proceeded through the drive way to the front door, their arms gripped tightly around each other. Mr. Reynolds proceeded to secure the graceful gates and immediately returned to his idle duties. He gazed at the stars as he always did, just to pass the time. This lack of anything to do was something he had to get used to, but the job paid his bills. There should not be many complaints, he told himself, because he made more than the average American. In fact, you could officially call him a member of the middle class with what the Dickensons paid him. However, he did not picture this quite being the career of his dreams. There had always been a desire to secure a job at one of Mr. Dickenson's firms, or maybe as a security travel agent that prevented attacks by terrorists. He had to think big, but for now he was content to work for the Dickensons, but his was an inbuilt determination to make the best of his possibilities.Inside the comforting home, you could hear Mrs. Dickenson declare firmly, "Give me that bag." With a look of innocence, little Dainisa slowly proceeded towards her mom and handed the bag of goodies over. "You ate enough of this. Now run upstairs and your daddy will be up to read you a bedtime story." The little girl scampered up to her room with joy because she had stashed several small pieces of candy in her Sleeping Beauty pouch. She accelerated as she neared the top of the stairs to assure that she had time to hide the goods under the pillow and to get out of the outfit before she was discovered, frantically undressing as if she could have cared less if the costume was purchased in the first place. Throwing it into the closet forcefully, she carelessly stuffed a piece of candy in her mouth while approaching the pillow to stash the rest.She had just reached for the edge of her pillow to slip the goodies to safety when she heard, "Hey. How is my little precious one?" in a deep and gruff voice. Startled, but her composure maintained as she tried to hide open rapper in her palm that hadn't been discarded yet. She also tried not to make obvious the sucking of a hard clump of sugar and artificial flavorings. She jumped on her bed as nonchalantly as possible."What book do you want me to read?" her father asked."Auglr gytr!""What!?""Three Little Monkeys," she said, the words spoken with a slight gargle."Didn't your mom take that candy from you?""This was my last piece, Daddy.""OK. Let me start." He read the story as his little girl snuggled down inside her blanket. When he was finished, he said, "Good night," following a light kiss on the forehead. He looked into her closed eyes, instantly getting a feeling of warmth and appreciation. Rising slowly, he continued to remain locked on the sight of her sleeping face. Click! The sound of her light switch echoed preceding a Ka-Klumb! as he slowly closed the door. Immediately, she began to slip her hand under her pillow to reach for her stash. As her father walked down the hallway, he could hear the sound of rain pounding on a surface, but it was not so. It was his sweetheart showering, and his mind jumped to the possibility that she was freshening up for him, so that he might have his trick-or-treat. With a slight blush at his own carnal thoughts, he hurried to the room to shed all of his garments except for the silk boxer shorts that she brought for him. Feeling fine, he laid back, his head resting upon a plush pillow in silk pillowcases. His eyes slowly drooped to near sleepiness, until he was awakened by soft and tingling kisses from a wet tongue, not to mention the mildly cool body that pressed against his. Nothing much was said, but sounds of passion, love, and lust filled the room.CHAPTER ONEA strong glare penetrated through the partially closed blinds and began to invade the crevices of slumberous eyes. The annoying sounds of shrieks from the alarm clock pulsated as he lay flat on his back seemingly unaffected. In fact, he had not even noticed the shrieks until well after his eyes opened and engaged in a soporific stare. The glare became unbearable. He reached for his pulchritudinous one, realizing she must have gotten up early. He smelt the aroma of sizzling pork, and something unidentifiable baking in the oven. Compelled by the scent, he reached over to rid himself of that godforsaken shriek that never did stop pulsating. While heading for the master bathroom for a badly needed shower, he realized his odor from the film that enriched his mouth and the garlic smell that precipitated from the deep forest of his armpits. A bathing was certainly needed. Besides, he had to impress the investors.This meeting had been on his mind most of the time for the last couple of weeks, and even while making love to his wife the night before. It had taunted his mind with the fear that he would squander the chance of a lifetime. Never before was anyone able to amass this many investors or this amount of capital. Richard could afford to put up some resources to support the venture himself, but for obvious reasons preferred not to. A simple plan to capitalize is what loomed foremost in his brain day in and day out. Richard squinted a little upon entering the hot water. The first limbs he washed were arms, legs, and neck. He washed his crotch thoroughly, including applying an overdose of Pert Plus to his pubic hairs, and combed every strand like a cosmetologist. He thought to himself that his presentation needed to go well. They could not resist a vacation tour of the site, mixed with the hype of a tropical getaway. He had even purchased tickets and reserved rooms for each of the investors. His bulletproof plan included a tour of the construction site and a dinner banquet.Richard closed his eyes and allowed the hot water to run down his face. Most men showered to wake up. Richard showered to think. The investors believed he was building a shipyard. That was only partially true. A shipyard was merely the beginning. His mind drifted back to the countless maps spread across his office walls. The Amazon. The Xingu. The Tocantins. Hundreds of waterways stretching through South America like veins through a living body. To most people they were rivers. To Richard they were transportation corridors. Trade routes. Opportunities. He imagined barges carrying timber, coffee, minerals, machinery, and manufactured goods deep into regions where traditional infrastructure had never reached. Macapá would become the gateway. The first piece. The foundation. Once established, additional facilities could eventually extend inland. Some regions would require dredging. Others would require canals. Some locations might only require modern docking facilities and transportation depots. The possibilities seemed endless. Richard smiled. Most people thought roads connected civilizations. He believed rivers did. And nowhere on Earth possessed a river system like the Amazon Basin. If the investors could see what he saw, today's meeting would be a formality."Mr. Neuheisil, you see I have plans to corner the Western hemisphere's export/import industry by building a state-of-the-art shipyard, but of course we must place it in a strategic location." He went on rambling while the water became lukewarm. "You see, the Amazon is easily navigable and has multiple branches that connect to different parts of South America. Using the Amazon along with a few manmade lakes or canals to connect two key branches of this amazing river, we could reach sixty percent of the continent just by boat passage alone. This will allow the Southeastern tip of Brazil to be properly distributed."A voice veered from the crack of the bathroom door. "Hey you and your friend in there, breakfast is ready." Snapping out of his rehearsal, he turned the water off, completely immune to the fact the water had chilled severely. Richard was running late, so he quickly dried off and dressed himself in a fine suit accompanied with one of the brightest white shirts ever seen. Blazer cuffed in one hand, brief case in the other, he descends the stairs to prepare to scarf down a quick meal."Oohh, Mommy! I like the way you cook your eggs — they're so fluffy. Mom, they look like blubber. There good." There was a great deal of excitement on the little girl's face, especially when her father joined them. "Mom! Are eggs good for you?""They have their good and bad points.""Good and bad, Mommy?" cried the little one with a puzzled tone."Just eat. Well! Look who's decided to join us? About time, your eggs are about to get cold.""Yeah Daddy, eat your eggs, they're delicious.""OK, Dear!" He took a few bites and then seemed to hurry from his seat, but he was certain to get a kiss from the women he loved. Jetting out of the door, he figured to leave the ladies to their business. He had serious business of his own that needed its own special attention. Jumping in the automobile that allowed him the smoothest departure, without hesitation the car was in reverse and nearly beat the electronic gate open. The sound of fresh rubber screeched from the sudden pressure administered to the throttle, and off he went.Following a smooth and swift ride, Richard pulled up at a splendid suburban office park embellished in white marble walls and blue stained-glass windows that were extraordinarily large. A huge sign greeted visitors, Dickenson Consulting Inc., preceding a physical address. After parking in his usual reserved space close to the entrance, he jumped out briskly. As he entered the building, his mild mannered receptionist and several others, who casually passed, greeted him immediately."Some one needs to fix this elevator, he thought. It's only five floors, jeeze…"Ding! One of the elevator doors opened, and he entered with a sense of relief. He did not particularly like elevators. He always complained about this one, which was too slow for him. The door closed after pressing button five — what was routine now seemed dilatory and extremely repugnant. Every thing now seemed to move slowly, especially as the time rapidly approached for the decision for the project. "Ding!" He exited, ardently hooking a sharp left and using long and graceful strides to reach his office in no time. "John, let me see you a minute," he said toward John's open office door just before he entered his own."Sure, I'll be right there!" Richard approached his coffee maker to make a cup, creamed down, and sweetened like hot cocoa. This was how he always made it, and he always enjoyed it kicked back in a plush maroon leather seat that resembled an expensive lazy boy."Yes, Mr. Dickenson.""Are those reports and maps ready for my presentation?""Yes sir, it's all right here. I figured that would be the first thing you would ask for.""Good observation, which is why you're my right-hand man. OK, that is all."Before John could leave, Richard rose from his chair and walked toward the massive wall map dominating one side of the office. Visitors often assumed it was decoration. It was not. Colored pins covered much of northern Brazil. Blue marker lines followed major waterways. Yellow tags identified survey locations. Red circles marked potential construction sites. John had seen the display countless times. Richard still studied it as if seeing it for the first time."What exactly do you see when you look at that thing?" John finally asked.Richard folded his arms. "Most people see rivers."His finger traced a winding blue line. "I see movement."Another line. "I see trade."Another. "I see access."His finger stopped over northern Brazil. Macapá. The city sat near the mouth of one of the most powerful river systems on Earth. "The entire future starts there."John nodded politely. He understood the words. He wasn't entirely sure he understood the obsession. Richard remained staring at the map long after John turned to leave. For a brief moment the room became completely silent. The future seemed to hang on those rivers. Rudely excused, John turned, appearing to snub Richard's comments, and walked off silently. Before John could escape the confines of Richard's office, he said, "John, please contact me immediately when those investors arrive.""Absolutely!" The door shut and John felt as if he had escaped a lion's den."Hello, Suzie! How are you doing today?""Fine, What about yourself? You look like you were just chewed out.""No, I'm fine. It's just that the boss isn't himself. I need you to get on the phone with that client. I think he's a little on edge because this project.""Of course, I'll get right on it." Suzie looked curious, but questioned nothing and continued with her normal duties. The sounds of phones rang, the strokes of keys be struck echoed, and moderate conversations filled the background — the typical office environment. John decided it would be a good idea to hang around the front office to get a first glance at the investors to see if they lived up to their billing. Indeed, his plan worked, and he greeted five men and notified Richard via the receptionist's phone. After informing his boss of their arrival, he waited there, staring at these men and marveling at their appearance. In his mind, he thought exuberantly, "Hmm, those sure are some lovely alligator shoes that slender one is wearing. Gee, look at that watch." It nearly blinded him when the wearer waved his arm casually. The ice that surrounded the face, not to mention the ones that made up the Roman numerals, was the essence of that hypnotic glare. It was almost as if that watch had mystic powers: because of its the beauty and richness, you couldn't help but want one. He also noticed that the other two men were also quite wealthy, and he could now see why boss was on such edge. This had to be important!"Ding," softly sounded from around the corner, preceding sounds of hard bottomed shoes utilized aggressively. "Hello, Gentlemen! So glad you could make it," Rich said, approaching the men with the keenest posture and the readiness of a news anchor. He greeted the men each in turn, saying, "I appreciate you giving us this opportunity! Mr. Winterlin, Countenance, Neuhesil, Caviling, and Mr. Palanas. Welcome to my base of operations, and I hope that you find your stay here enjoyable. My assistants will show you to our conference room, where you will find refreshments and seating for my presentation. I'll be there shortly."John immediately directed the men down a hallway. "This way gentlemen." The sounds of their shoes clattering on the marble floors echoed, but this time the sound was not as aggressive. It was more smoothly this time almost in a rhythm. Deep voices vaguely clouded the halls as the gentlemen conversed on various topics. "Here we are gentlemen." John said, pointing rigorously while panting quietly. "You may sit wherever you feel most comfortable." John exited quickly, knowing that one wrong look from one of those guys could mean his job. The men wasted no time devouring the donuts and bagels, and each one was invited to make themselves some coffee tailored to their specifications. Each investor sat in a seat and looked as if there was no room for small talk. Richard Dickenson entered the room."Good afternoon gentlemen," he said boldly while closing the door behind him. "The reason I have gathered you here today, as you know, is to offer you the opportunity to embark on a project that will allow us to strategically dominate a whole hemisphere."Mr. Countenance curled up in his seat with a look of intrigue. The other men continued to listen. Richard held a large detailed map of South America's geological make up, especially the rivers and forests of Brazilian, which was, in fact, strategically chosen. "You see gentlemen! This is the mouth of the Amazon. As you pass these islands, the river splits in two.""Em hum. Yes, I see, uttered Dick, along with similar acknowledgements from the others. "Go ahead, Mr. Dickenson. I think I know where you're going with this." All of these men dabbled in the shipping business, distribution, or export/import of some sort. They were all on the same page.Richard dimmed the lights slightly and advanced to another projection slide. The image displayed a broader view of South America. Several waterways illuminated across the screen. The investors leaned forward."This project is bigger than a shipyard," Richard said calmly. "It is a transportation network."The room remained silent. Richard continued. "For generations, governments have spent fortunes building roads and rail systems into difficult terrain."A map of the Amazon Basin appeared. "We already possess the largest transportation system in South America."Mr. Caviling frowned. "I don't follow."Richard smiled. "Nature already built it."His hand swept across the screen. "The Amazon and its tributaries reach farther than most transportation planners realize."Several investors exchanged glances. Now they were paying attention. "If we establish strategic access points, support facilities, transportation depots, and eventually inland expansion routes, we gain access to markets that many competitors overlook."Mr. Countenance slowly nodded. Richard could see the realization beginning to spread. The investors had arrived expecting a dock. What they were hearing sounded far larger. Only then did Richard advance to the next slide and continue with his original presentation.Richard continued! "We will build a huge shipyard! Right here where the river splits in two. I mean a huge state of the art facility. I want service yard, trucking depots etc. — I want the whole nine yards."Mr. Caviling began scuffing his chin replying, "And how might this allow the kind of dominance you speak off?""Oh! Simple! You see the Amazon River is very navigable. It has multiple branches that connect to different parts of South America, as you see here. You can reach most of the continent by boat alone. Bu utilizing a few manmade lakes or canals, depending on recommendations from contractors, we could centralize the Americas. Look!" Pointing forcefully at the map, he by now had his projection screen out and many other maps displayed. His pointer moved briskly, as did his lips for the proceeding comments. "You see, right here at Cuiaba', if we deploy a manmade canal here, or even hydro damn it, and again about one hundred miles Northeast, we can connect two key integrals, and with trucking depots, we can supply the entire southern tip of Brazil. The territories of Minas Gerais, Sao Paulo, and also over here, Moto Grosso, are some of the countless other places that will be under our shipping control. And we won't have to worry about the northern part of Brazil and into Peru, Bolivia, and Columbia, as you can see."Richard began to point even more fiercely, taking his excitement completely out on the projection screen. "The rivers many branches extend over the territory we need. Think of the coffee from Columbia or sugar from Northern Brazil. With respect to South America, we can ship externally and internally." He was now pointing again. "Boa Vista, Manaus, Rio Branco, and Porta Velho, all have their own ports. So then! We can be their source and conduit to the North and East portions of the globe.""Excuse me," uttered Mr. Caviling. "It appears to me that the Southern tip wouldn't get adequate coverage. As you see! As you like to say, the rivers don't reach that far. See!" The man was pointing even more aggressively than Richard had been, and it was definitely noticeable. "Those cities on the coast, right there." He pointed at the area in question continuously and waited for a response."Yes sir, good observation! As you know, there are always pros and cons to any endeavor, but that is why we concentrate our truck depots at these two manmade canal sights." Richard was pointing now as if it had became a competition. "Due to the dense population in Southern Brazil, there are sufficient roads to make it easy to create a reliable transport system to and from these two spots. Cuiaba is the future sight of shipyard two, but for now, we will have just trucking stops at the end of each of these four rivers. Branching our distribution outwards, besides a factory, shipyard, or even a trucking depot, would be inexpensive due to the cheap labor. If really necessary, we could use this route." He is now pointing at the project site and dragging his pointer towards the mouth of the Amazon with a graceful passion. He followed along the shores of Brazil until reaching the city of Pelutas. "You see, the land is purchased already. All we're waiting on is to begin the construction process."George sat back with a look of eagerness, while Neuheisil asked the rest what they thought so far. Tony Palanas remained silent the whole time, assimilating information exponentially. Mr. Caviling blurted, "Isn't this in the middle of a forest."Dick interrupted him anxiously. "Yes, and not your typical forest. In fact, a thick rainforest."In a combative tone, Richard exclaimed, "Gentlemen! We are losing sight of the big picture, which is big enterprise, and of course this will be a task in the amount of deforestation required, but with our cooperative effort, it will not be as painful as if only one or a few of us were to take on this project. If necessary, however, I will forge ahead myself, a lone soldier. But I warn you, companies are lined waiting to cut down that blasted jungle, to make something civilized." The investors were pretty much sold, but at this point, he wanted to take it an extra step. He wanted to be assured that there would be no back outs. "Gentlemen, I invite you to have a living experience of what I have in store for this project. We will also enjoy some celebration festivities. He pulled his brief case out and reached for an envelope. Handing them all airline tickets to his private jet, which was parked at a reserved spot at the international airport. In addition to hotel accommodations, the gentlemen accepted with intrigue showing on their faces.Dick blurted out, "I could use a little rest and leisure." Richard said his goodbyes to the men as they departed, and then he returned to his office to enjoy the moment. While flopping back in his plush seats, a grin of enthusiasm covered his face as checked his messages. They included unimportant ones that could be disregarded. His relaxed mode would have to impress the investors even better during their vacation. He reached for the phone and pressed one button."Yes!""John," shouted Richard. "Come to my office please." Richard waited while using crumbled pieces of paper as tools to improve his jump shot. John peeked around his door and before he entered completely, Richard declared, "I will be leaving soon. Make sure those reports are finalized. Has Judy secured Data Inc.?""No sir, not yet.""Hey, just because this project is about to change everything doesn't mean we get complacent. We are still who we are.""Consider it done, sir!" As John closed the door, Richard Dickenson followed right behind, eager to get home to his wife after a long and eventful day. Arriving home with excitement, he entered, finding his family's feelings were mutual. It was not because they had a good day at the office, but because the man of the house was home."Daddy," shouted the little one. That was followed by warm greetings from his wife. He accepted the welcomes like a king, for there was a sense of the untouchable and cockiness in his demeanor. He wasted no time in telling her of the vacation in a smooth and enthusiastic manner. "Pack your things, Dear. We're going to South America.""What? On such short notice?""I told you.""Yeah, this morning. I didn't know it would be so soon.""I've invited the investors for a vacation.""What? Just out of the blue — let's go on a vacation?""I've pretty much got them convinced. I just want them to get a feel, and then there will be no second thoughts later.""OK ay!" With the slightest hesitation and a smile upon her face, she proceeded to say, "What about Boo, and when, where, and how long?""Well Dear, we're going to Macapa, to allow us to get that feel like I talked about. There's going to be a dinner party, but most of the time will be spent in the hotel with me."She got close to him and uttered, "That's sounding a little better.""At least the first day. You see, originally I had planned a three-day trip, but there is nothing spectacular about Macapa. Most of the time will be spent in the hotel.""Great Sweetie, when do we leave?""Tomorrow morning.""Well, I'll go get my things ready and make arrangements for our baby."CHAPTER TWOMeanwhile, somewhere at a prestigious University, Professor Julian Akbar was doing what he loved best. That was of course the study of ancient cultures and indigenous tribes. He was just about to call a recess in one of his advanced history classes, when suddenly a student blurted, "What do you suppose the reason was? I mean, do you know why they were left behind?""Well Amy! Civilizations usually sprout where the environment is beneficial, and I suspect that some of these people were isolated from these areas of civilization growth.""How, then, did they survive?""Remember, some of these ancient people knew nature better than we do today.""Dr. Akbar, how could that be true? When they believed their gods were the elements and vice versa.""Well let me ask you! Who is your god?" There was silence from the student and Julian continued. "Some of those stories were passed down for centuries and were believed to be true.""You don't believe so, do you?""What I believe is irrelevant." He began to read the homework assignment, effectively cutting the conversation short. "OK class, I'll see you next week, and don't forget your essays on the Mayans. Class adjourned!" The students raced through the door like the gates of the Kentucky derby had been opened. Each student represented a prize thoroughbred galloping frantically. This was an understatement because obviously this metaphorical race was really happening, except for the professor, and from where he stood, he anticipated the impending emptiness of the classroom.The silence filled the room thereafter, and a sense of loneliness loomed. It was a perfect setting for the professor, because that he was. His wife had left him not long before, and so had the student with whom he had an affair. She just played the role for improved grades. It wasn't secret information, but the professor disregarded her ulterior motives. He had no one, nothing, nothing but his knowledge. His knowledge of people, people who did not even exist anymore, was vast. What use is a language that no one uses anymore? Obsessed with this edifying endeavor, however, he ran his only true love away, and he had killed all chances of interest coming from any other. So he stood there, alone in his room of instruction reading his book. He seemed to always read sitting at his desk from which he gave award-winning lectures, fitted in a tight short sleeve dress shirt and solid colored clip on. It appeared he had no regard for fashion.Suddenly, gathering his things in an instant, he made for the door. It seemed someone had activated him with a push of a button and abruptly commanded him to exit the room. Arriving home, he threw his briefcase full of books and research papers on top of all the mess that had already accumulated. He flopped himself on the leather sofa and reached for the remote. Before pressing the on button, he again resorted to his own remote control instincts and darted for the refrigerator. Grabbing a beer, he chugged half of it before returning to his chair. He belches after sitting and presses the power button."And the Nation…." "Johnny, you know I love you"… "He backs him down, and the shot"… "Giving"… He continued to scan the many different channels with an apparent confusion as to what to watch. Hearing his kitten at the door, he jumped up to let it in, the channel inadvertently remaining on some news program. He walked to the door to greet his cat while the television continued to pulsate. "Scientists have discovered the ozone's rapid deterioration, and that it may be linked to global warming. We have Dr. Shaynick, the professor for meteorological and geological studies at the University of Berkley."Thank you! The problem we have is not the human release of toxins into the atmosphere, but the destroying of the Earth's natural combatants against those harmful toxins. The many projects that cause deforestation. The fewer trees we have the worse off we will be. We also…""Ring, ring, ring!" Pressing mute on the remote control, the professor picked up the phone. "Hey Julian! How have you been? My buddy ol' pal.""Rich, is that you?""Well of course it is. Who did you think it was? Mitch! Anyway, I called to tell you of my project."What project, Mitch, I mean Rich?"Yeah, you're hilarious, but I'm having some investors build a shipyard on the banks of the Amazon.""How ironic," replied Dr. Akbar. "I just heard a report on this new channel saying…" He paused shortly. "Some program, a news report talked about rainforests and cutting them down or something. Don't you have to cut down some forestry to accomplish this?""Well yes, but that shouldn't be a problem because we could probably use the lumber anyway.""No Rich! I mean who owns the land, and if you own it, how did you acquire it?" Richard responded confidently and sarcastically at once."The provinces were persuaded with a little currency and political influence.""Well, you always knew how to get your way, even though you dropped out of college.""Hey man, I wasn't interested in people in the past, or people who still live in the past. Hell, this is modern times now — capitalization for civilization is my motto.""You sure seem to know what you want. Hey, good luck. If you need me, just call me." After terminating the call with the professor, he felt a sudden sleepy urge. Realizing he wanted to call Joe Geshy, his friend for many years, however, he propped himself up. Their wives were friends due to their relationship, and it seemed somewhat forced, but they willingly accepted their husbands' comradeship. The phone rang several times more than he usually allowed, but the sleepiness caused laziness and he neglected to hang-up. The phone did answer after about twelve rings."Hello!" responded Joe with a deep and exhausted voice."Joe!" Richard shouted as he was awakened out of his near sleep with that deep and raucous voice."Yes, this is Joe! Who is this? Is this Rich?""What, people don't know my voice now a days?""Shit, I was sleep, and it's not as if you call here frequently anyway. My best friend calls every blue moon.""You know that I am very busy, besides I have a new project that I'm working on. That is why I called you. To spend a little time with my buddy.""Oh yeah! What, you need my help?""Ah…no." The words dragged out slowly. "I just called to invite you to this vacation in Macapa""Macapa," replied Joe with the most confused voice. "What the hell, or should I say, where the hell is that?""It's in South America, where I'm starting this big new project. What is Mrs. Geshy doing the next couple of days?""She'll be out of town for a few. She's visiting my in-laws.""Good! It shouldn't be a problem then if you give me a little company, especially while entertaining those dull-ass investors.""Who?" Joe exclaimed."The investors!""Oh, sounds like this trip is very important. I guess I'll go, but in fact, I'm surprised you'd invite me to such a thing. I suspect you already have my ticket.""I sure do. Therefore, you have to go. We are flying in one of my private jets." Joe asked for the details of his invitation. Richard advised him of all details and that he would pick him up from the airport just before show-and-tell.Just before the two terminated the call Joe shouted, "Hey Richard! I just remembered I can't leave at ten like you planned. I would have to leave in the afternoon.""Oh well, no problem! I'll just have a separate flight available for you. Hey, your fate is to come with me. You may soon work for me and make a lot more than what you borrow.""Great!" They both exclaimed in turn. Sitting back like a large couch potato having one too many beers, Richard drifted quickly asleep. His thoughts of all he planned to attain ran through is sleeping mind, and he had a glorious rest, even though he had a crook in his neck. He twisted his neck slowly and aggressively, hoping to hear it crack, but to no avail! "Dear!" he shouted as his fingers scooped the cold build up from his eyelids. Truly an intolerable sight, but his wife had to deal with it for years, and had learned to love him.All things were settled, and they arrived at the boarding gate to meet the gentlemen being entertained. "Hello, Mr. Neuheisil," Rich said with a tone of joy in his voice. "This is my wife."Each man said, "I am pleased to meet you, Mrs. Dickenson," in turn. Richard greeted them all individually and honorably. "I hope you enjoy the flight, gentlemen, and of course my presentation and entertainment." He began to direct his wife and the gentlemen towards the entrance gates. They were all engaged in their own individual conversation and paid no attention to the intercom, but automatically preceded towards the gates to board the plane when the flight was announced. The entrance ramp was a nippy 62 degrees, but everyone was prepared with their healthy blazers. Rich's wife sported a thick pearl white cotton turtleneck by Ralph Lauren and a blinding diamond necklace that illuminated her garments and appeared to have a connection with the matching bracelet and watch. Richard's wife decided to sit in the seat closest to the aisle because she had a thing about planes, especially looking out of the window while ascending miles above, which made her more deathly afraid than simply nervous. Reaching over from the window seat and kissing her valiantly, Rich assured her silently that all would be fine. She smiled, but before she could even savor the moment, the captain was explaining the flight destination and giving a firm statement to fasten their seatbelts until they were informed otherwise.She could feel the massive plane swing around to approach its necessary runway. It then darted the lengthy runway at twice the speed of a well tuned car, streaking the length of many football fields before taking a forty-five degree jolt upward. With its extremely large wingspan, the air allowed Bernoulli's law to take effect. Richard watched the airport get tiny and the cars resembled matchboxes. Suddenly they even became too small to distinguish, and all you could see were the faded roads and dots protruding along them. Richard continued to gaze through the window, noticing that all manmade things had vanished below and all that was left to see were the tops of trees. These trees were thick and appeared as though that was all the earth was made of, and it seemed nothing could penetrate them. The plane was continuing its ascension; therefore, the trees too fell victim to invisibility. Somehow, the clouds did not appear to gather Richards's attention as much, leading him to blurt, "Hey, is there any service!?"His wife responded softly, "If you would look on your own plane, you would see the button for service right here."With a pale look, he pressed the button only to smile gingerly afterwards. "Oh I didn't see that."Hello, what can I get you?""Well, what do you have? I don't see any menus lying around.""All we have is beverages and snack items.""What kind of drinks and snacks do you have?" These words were spoken harshly, and it was obvious that the flight attendant struggled not to become obviously disgruntled.Mrs. Dickenson said, "Please excuse him. He's just…" But Richard interrupted. "Oh No! Don't you excuse me. Just get me a Coke and what, ahh… roasted peanuts, and what else, maybe some crackers and cheese. Just get me a variety of your little snacks."The way the flight attendant walked off indicated what she was thinking: what a rude, obnoxious, and egotistical pig. She returned with a basketful of an assortment of nuts, crackers, and cheeses. It even included smoked beef that resembled jerky, along with a crisp glass of ice and cold canned Coca Cola. Mrs. Dickenson was fine, but Mr. proceeded to devour the insufficient nutrients. The remaining plane ride was smooth, including the landing. Afterwards, they were all escorted to their hotel rooms.The evening air felt different than Richard expected. Warm. Heavy. Alive. The group proceeded through the hotel entrance while attendants carried luggage toward the elevators. Several investors admired the tropical scenery visible beyond the lobby windows. Richard remained near the entrance for a moment, breathing in the humid air. A local employee stood nearby unloading supplies from a small truck. The older man paused briefly and looked toward Richard."You are here for the forest?" he asked.Richard smiled proudly. "In a manner of speaking."The man nodded slowly. "My grandfather used to tell stories about the forest."Richard chuckled politely. "I imagine everyone around here has stories."The old man did not smile. "Some stories are meant to be warnings."Richard looked at him curiously. "What kind of warning?"The man glanced toward the dark horizon beyond the city lights. Then he shrugged. "The forest keeps what belongs to it."For several seconds neither man spoke. Finally Richard laughed softly. "Well, fortunately for me, we're only borrowing a little piece of it."The old man offered no reply. He simply returned to his work. Richard shook his head and walked toward the hotel elevators. By morning he had almost forgotten the conversation.CHAPTER THREEThere was not much to do in this isolated area of South America, except for what was in the rooms and banquet room. The banquet room served mixed drinks and had a live band arranged to play an unexpected Brazilian tune. The sound played by the band was vivid, which gave the atmosphere a truly tropical feeling. The rooms were spacious and actually resembled suites; however, and surprisingly, there were neither phones nor televisions. They were equipped with saunas, and the balconies looked over vast plains. The rooms were definitely far from technology equipped and brought the true meaning of the term "third world" to their occupants.The men all felt comfortable within their rooms, however, and made use of the opportunity for a much needed rest. They would need it for the upcoming presentation, especially after the long flight."Damn, no phones!" Rich whipped out his cellular phone while glancing at his wife briefly. "I guess he's on his way," he said after allowing the phone to ring several times unanswered, saying as he hung up, "Dear, I must go and see if the transport boat is ready."Mrs. Dickenson gave a look of acceptance and advised her husband to be careful. He nodded and walked out the door. There was still nothing to worry about, he told himself. The helicopters were delivered previously, and a medical boat was ready at the dock. Preparedness was far from the issue, but rather, knowing what he was in for, which made his stomach knot and unknot spasmodically. Deciding to use the boat to transport the investors was on his mind at the moment. He thought it would be more appropriate since it was roomy enough to fit everyone aboard. It would take both helicopters to fit all seven people, and he was the only pilot available. He was anxious to get to the docks to assure that everything was situated before bringing the investors along. It was a very short distance to the docks of the mighty Amazon in the southwestern Macapa region of Brazil! The tropical scenery dominated as he made his way by horse and wagon taxi. Before his eyes sat two beautiful helicopters and a boat in the background floating powerfully, a testament to the preparations made for this project. Many Brazilian people walked about, and there were more than usual about because they could not help but notice the Americans' arrival.As Richard inspected the vessel, an elderly dock worker watched from a distance. The old man eventually approached. "You travel far into the forest?" he asked.Richard nodded. "Business."The old man looked toward the river. "The river remembers."Richard smiled politely. "I'm sure it does."The old man shook his head. "You joke now. Everyone does."Before Richard could respond, the man simply walked away. Richard shrugged and continued his inspection. Richard walked the docks to his boat, and some of the strangers even stared. What exactly went through the gazers' minds was unclear, but their expressions revealed curiosity and admiration. Unaffected by the watchers, he entered the boat and immediately inspected all of the instruments. Boating and navigation was one of his hobbies, so this went smoothly. Richard gazed upon the instruments and then out the window at the scenery, squinting his eyes against the sun.His emotions were high because things were going superbly, and his mood, in combination with the familiar scenery, ignited reminiscence: "Honey, I'm going fishing!""OK dear." Richard gathered his favorite pole and in the other hand carried an expensive tackle box very firmly. It was no time before he was out the gates in his sports utility vehicle. The tires performed their normal screams when leaving with Richard at the helm. More screams, but opposite in pitch hollered when he decided to make a stop at Owens bait and tackle shop. There were bells that jingled upon opening the door to the shop as he was met by cold still air, which chilled his sweating skin from the hot and muggy morning that it was. That cool down was welcomed with unapparent gratitude because the business of getting fishing utensils was his priority. Richard gazed at various bait and tackle and was obviously unsure what type to use. Scratching his chin and squinting his eyes as if he had a hard time seeing.A suitably rustic man asked, "What type of fishing will you be doing?""I don't know.""Will you be fresh water fishing or salt?""Oh, I see. Well I guess fresh water.""Well, what type of fish were you wanting to catch?""Any that will bite.""Oh, I see," said the rugged man with a bit of a chuckle. He continued on in his overly drawn voice. "I guess you've never been boating a mile off the coast?""I've been on many cruises!" "Not cruises! Fishing! Have you ever been deep-sea fishing?""No, I can't say that I have!""You look like a well off man. You deserve to get the prize, the biggest and best fish you could ever dream of reeling in." Richard gained interest in the man's comments and allowed himself to be lured into a verbal entanglement. "What's your name?""Richard! Richard Dickenson.""Well Mr. Dickenson, I don't say that fishing is a serious hobby for you. Maybe you hunt and now have decided to expand. Well, let me tell you, fishing is the best experience you could ever have. Drifting the ocean current, searching for a spot to send our chosen traps deep below, hoping something so hungry and desperate for food will chomp at our sharp hooks, snatching up the biggest and baddest creatures of the sea, is the best pastime imaginable. You're under control then, Mr. Dickenson.""Call me Richard.""Richard! What, have you not driven a boat before?""No! I always had someone to do it for me.""Even though you're well off enough to hire someone, it's still a good skill to have. You may need it someday.""What! So, do you teach boating lessons?""Oh no! I'm no teacher, but I've been raised around boats since I was an itty-bitty youngen. I became very skillful at it, even could probably navigate you around the world.""Probably?" Richard declared with impressions of not wanting to be a guinea pig."Oh, I say that because I never actually attempted it." Richard stood there giving eye-to-eye attention before blurting, "You're unsure, and so I'm afraid I will make me have to pass.""I'm sure I could if I did try. I know the maps of the oceans real well, and I keep up with all current weather conditions. This isn't about that; it's about fishing, and I offer you to join me the next time me and a few of my buddies go deep-sea fishing." Richard had been game, and they exchanged information quickly.However, the Brazilian sun's strength broke his concentration and that became his final thought as he blurted out, "Oh shit! I forgot! I needed to pick up Joe from the airport." It was a small private dismal airport, all of the stops by privately owned planes. He rushed himself to the spots where the airplanes could land. Upon arriving at this pint-size airport with one shaky tower and about four measly runways that were really just roads, it became clear Joe had not yet arrived. Richard looked around and noticed no one was immediately in sight. "Hello, is anyone there?" He screeched over the vast opening the airport allotted."Hello, Joe! Is anyone here?" He shouted, walking around to the towers control room entrance. He entered the staircase and glanced upward, and he could not help but indulge in multiple grunts and sighs as he realized that he had a steep climb. He figured someone had to be here. He proceeded with determination. Huffing and panting controllably, but aggressively, he proceeded up the flight of stairs. In no time, he reached the top, not realizing actually how many stairs he had climbed. Opening the door to his left, he entered eagerly, only to notice a letter "U" shaped console and a shiny coated figure sitting dead center. Glancing upwards through the windows, he paid particular attention to the nearly empty runways, then looked at the sky, noticing an eerie emptiness. "Hey, wake up! Wake up!" Pressing the seat with both hands and shaking aggressively, he heard grunts coming from the front of the seat. Richard continued to say, "Hey wake up! Wake up," now repeating quickly after one another. "Wake up, Wake up!"The man jumped out of his seat, replying with a phrase of some foreign language."Hey, speak English," said Richard."What did you do that for?" replied the man with an unidentifiable accent."There was supposed to be a flight due.""A flight," repeated the man, curiously shrugging his shoulders, his expression one of affliction. "No sir, I don't know of any flight! I don't know what you are talking about." His words were spoken with an irritating accent that now seemed amplified."Look sir," Richard then said firmly. "There is a flight due. Look for it and call me." Richard jotted his number down swiftly and handed the information to the mysterious man, who accepted it with a peculiar look. "Is that going to be a problem?""No, no." Richard gave a disgusting look and asked, "Where the hell are you from anyway." There was no verbal response from the man, but a simple waving of the hand and nodding of the head for him seemed to suffice. Richard shook his head in disappointment and proceeded down the staircase. Eager to get back to the suites to get the investors onboard, he descended the staircase faster than he had ascended. He wondered where Joe was on his way back, but he figured he was just running late. Nevertheless, the presentation had to begin. Joe was just a friend to keep him company, but his tastes contrasted sharply with those of the investors and Richard thought that was a needed element in this discussion. He even found himself wishing he could have waited a little longer, but his reasons for being here had little to do with Joe. Getting back to the suites now seemed to take longer, and his impatience grew. Arriving at his destination not a moment to soon, his patience converted into an eager aggression, maybe even obsession; nevertheless, he remained cool as he gathered all the investors. Everyone had boarded the boat while Richard quietly and swiftly checked all necessary instruments. It would be a more difficult task since Joe was not there. They had been on many navigational missions together. Whether it is fishing or just enjoying a cruise with their loved ones, he would be on his own for this trip, but it did not bother him a bit. His determination to make this a success dominated all other thoughts. Releasing the last ropes that secured the boat, they were soon off. The boat was built well, and had good speed.Their destination was a particular riverbank 100 miles southeast of Macapa. Richard maximized the velocity of the mid-sized yacht and administered the skills in boating that he had so conveniently inherited indirectly from a bait and tackle shop visit. He could hear the wind drift swiftly from the rear of the boat, and he could also hear snippets of the conversations of intrigue."Dick! What do you think?" said one of the investors, standing with both hands gripped upon the boat's railing and looking puzzled indeed.He replied saliently, "Think? About what Peter?""I mean, here way out in the wilderness! Do you think this is a little extreme, us being out here for a presentation?"Mr. Neuheisil began to gleam as if he had all the answers, and responded confidently. "Well, you know, I think it's a good idea. It gives us a chance to see the realities of this so-called, quote-unquote, project! And its true potential! Thus far, it's proving possible, but I am beginning believe only now, since he has decided to bring us along here. We should make the best of this, and we need to use this experience to help us decide if it's even possible, or even profitable for that matter.""Yeah right, you know…." The men continued casual conversation amongst themselves while Richard shuttled the yacht to its destination."Richard, you got it under control, I see," exclaimed Jim, who was standing next to Tony Palanas. "Where exactly did you learn to navigate boats?" Richard turned to see the two men watching him like private eyes.He responded casually and gently. "Boating has actually been a hobby of mine for many, many years. A friend once turned me on to deep-sea fishing, and it was on from there."Dick looked at Richard first with a smile that showed he was impressed. He then looked at Jim and Tony simultaneously, grabbing one shoulder of each and speaking on their congress. "Here we are, drifting upon the bayou like Amazonians, really living this endeavor. Some may have thought initially this was extreme, being out here, but I must say Richard, for me it's truly been a tropical experience. I want to congratulate you on this conception; and I hope that you men see this as an opportunity, to really understand the realities of this idea. The men looked ahead of them, each with their own characteristics. Their eyes lit up as they approached a large gap in the River, sort of like a huge lake, but in actuality, the river now split in two.This was the spot. Now, Richard thought, if I can only rely on either side of the land directly ahead. He headed the vessel towards the point where the land split the river into a western flow and a southern flow. "OK, gentlemen," he said, notifying all crew members, "prepare to dock." Richard guided the boat as close to the edge as possible, but he realized that there was no where to dock the boat. The gentlemen all gathered on the side railings of the boat while Richard spoke loudly. "Unfortunately, I didn't anticipate not being able to dock the boat and getting our feet dirty, but I see a patch of trees right over there, an opening where we could have landed the choppers. Nevertheless, this is the spot you were shown on the map," he said, lifting the map to everyone and assuring their visibility was not hindered. He pointed at the map and continued, "Now you see, gentlemen! Can you feel what I'm envisioning here?" He was pointing fiercely and finger tracing the exact dimensions along these multiple branches of the Amazon. Getting excited, he pronounced, "We can ship coffee from Columbia." He then traced his fingers along the Amazon eagerly, passing Manaus and moving upward on one of many Amazonian branches until that particular one ended. He now suggested, "We can add a trucking depot here. See right there!" He pointed even more aggressively. "The Orinoca River branches off, and this upward branch is very close to Bogota, Columbia. Now you see this lower branch of the Amazon is just 100 miles or so below. This Amazon branch should be equipped with a loading and unloading dock, while the trucking depot could be placed at this upper branch of the Orinoco."Jim interrupted, saying, "You might as well place a loading and unloading facility there, on that Orinoco branch as well. There are all sorts of rivers that the Orinoco is connected to within Columbia, not to mention it exits near Trinidad and Tobago. If I'm not mistaken, that may shorten the route to America."Richard looked at him with surprise and replied, "Now you see! You see, you really understand what I'm envisioning here. They also have gold, oil, and emeralds."Jim, with an ulterior motive gleaming in his eyes, advised, "I'm quite aware of what Columbia has to offer." He patted the quiet Tony Palanas on the back and gripped his shoulders, now obviously acting as Tony's spokesperson. Tony continued to sit back, not saying much, but he was indeed interested. His family had real ties within the drug hierarchy, and Columbia was a known producer of many such products. This massive shipping industry project and future operation would be perfect for trafficking and laundering. Tony's seeming lack of interest was just a ploy. He was in fact eager to get this project going. That easy access couldn't be passed up. The plan was to smuggle contraband out of Columbia, transfer products in this newly proposed control center, and allow products to leave the eastern shore of South America. In a totally different ship, it would be difficult to for the authorities to discern where the drugs were going. He gleamed inside at this opportunity, only to be interrupted out of his reverie.Richard spoke loudly. "That's not all, gentlemen. We may ship sugarcane and rice from Venezuela, as well as wheat, barley, and corn from Peru. Need copper, Peru is the place! Oh, don't forget about oil in Guaza, newly discovered. Since Bolivia refuses to ante up, or perhaps has no capitol, we can be their source capitol. We can partially own Bolivia. Remember, I told you gentlemen about the depots at Cuiaba. He pointed once again with an aggression that captured all the men's attention. "You see this river; it allows us to ship into Paraguay and Uruguay, and finally exiting through Rio de la Plata."That final comment Richard uttered gained grunts of approval, and Dick suggested, "I think this allows us access to Argentina as well. What do they have to offer, Mr. Dickenson?""Well, that country has Buenos Aires, a large port city that is near Cordoba. They produce automobiles and buses.""Hmm!" Dick said, but Richard did not give him a chance to say anything, because he continued to blabber."You see men, even though we are unable to walk on the land, I believe you all get the idea of where this project is eventually going to go. First, we must get this contract location established."Peter commented, "We don't know if a project with such a magnitude can even be possible, besides what is the constructability of this land?"Richard blurted out excitedly, "Sure! That is why I have scheduled a survey crew and a few engineers to come build, well, first and foremost, somewhere to dock this boat. They will be measuring and surveying, or what ever it is they do. Look! I didn't say this plan was going to be stumble free, but I assure you that the engineers will probably approve this site for said construction. And we will be on our way to establishing a shipping empire."Suddenly, Richard's eyes sharpened as he looked towards land. Just before opening his mouth again, he noticed something appearing to dash across, or through, the forest. He looked puzzled, but he is careful to conceal his expressions immediately with silent gulps of air. He had just about scratched his head, wondering aloud, what was that? However, he really began to think, who was that? It looked like a buck-naked man running, weaving through the thick masses of trees. He was almost certain it was someone, because he had noticed the eyes peeking from around a tree just before the body became a blur. Direct contact, eye-to-eye, seemed to be what happened and is the reason Richard was going crazy. Those eyes seemed to be staring at him just before he, she, or it ran away.Richard's reverie was interrupted by Jim. "Is something the matter? It seems as though you've seen a ghost?""Oh no! I just thought I saw a deer or something." Ring! Ring! His phone loudly interrupted the moment. "Excuse me, gentlemen." He answered his phone briskly. "Yes," he said, then patiently waited for a response."Mr., that flight you spoke of, earlier. It should arrive in two hours or so. They dispatched in — I just received the pilot's message.""OK, great! Richard glanced at his watch, noticing that it was already mid-afternoon. He then remembered that Joe was originally supposed to be on that later flight in the first place. Nevertheless, he whipped the boat around and they headed back for Macapa. They all enjoyed the ride back, as the sun's heat began to subside and made the ride more bearable. They had several drinks and were quite joyful at the prospects of making so much money on this project, and they did not realize they were nearly to their destination. Finally, they had all exited the boat and headed for the banquet room to continue to gorge themselves with alcoholic beverages.CHAPTER FOURArriving at the mini-airport, Richard noticed Joe sitting down waiting for him. Richard got off the wagon and approached the building. "Hey, Joe! Joe!" Richard exclaimed."Rich! Rich, hey Richard…. Old buddy how you doing.""I'm fine, Joe. What about yourself?""Just marvelous. I see you got us here way out in the tropics and shit." Pausing just briefly as they walked away from the building, Joe then blurted hilariously, "Oh shit, we got the horse and wagon! Damn! What the hell is going on? I mean you did say something about a project, but gee! I had no idea." The two men boarded the carriage and proceeded to the suites. "So what exactly are we doing here anyway?""Well Joe, I really called you to help me with the navigating, but your late arrival eliminated that plan.""Well excuse me, but what navigating?" He spoke frankly and naively."I just took the investors on a cruise to the central construction site""Wait a minute, hold up! Investors? Cruise? Navigating? You're confusing me.""Joe! Remember when I called to invite you to the presentation. I need their capital."Oh I see. You're putting your swindle techniques to good use. I still don't understand the cruise.""Damn Joe, be imaginative. The project is about 100 miles southwest from here by boat on the Amazon.""Boy, you sure can be an adventurer. You started me with that shit a long time ago, talking about deep-sea fishing, and shit. I guess you needed my help on the boat.""No! You don't say.""Hey," Joe said sharply, pausing long enough to assure that he had captured Mr. Dickenson's attention. "Fuck you, OK! You probably wanted me to do all the work while you ran your mouth to people richer than you. Now that is a sight."A grin crossed Rich's face as the men approached the suites, but that was short lived because he began to blabber. "Hey, the sun has a few more hours of light. Let's take the helicopter to the site.""What site, man!?""Damn Joe! Where the shipyard is to be built.""Shipyard! Now I knew you were crazy, but whoa! I didn't imagine.""They say a genius is crazy, and I see you haven't been listening to anything I've been telling you."Hold up, Rich. I have been listening. It's been a long flight and I wouldn't mind getting one of those tropical drinks in me.""Come on Joe, I didn't get a chance to tour the land.""Well, why not," Joe exclaimed with unacceptable tones."We hadn't had a chance to build a dock, and that prevented us from exiting the boat. I didn't want to take the small boats with those inexperienced nincompoops." Joe stood back with a humorous look while listening to Rich. "My plan is to take the choppers, build a dock, and survey the land. Get an engineer to approve construction, and let my investors' money do the rest. I want to at least know what I'm up against." Richard uttered these last comments unusually out of focus; a thought of the buck-naked man may have crossed his mind. However, he continued on, "Besides, you don't need that alcohol shit anyway. It can kill you.""OK, Ok, but I am a grown-ass man, and I will have me several of those drinks as soon as we return from your weird obsession, or journey, or even quest, whatever it is. Something! Something has gotten into you."Richard seemed preoccupied, but he managed to exclaim harshly, "What!""You heard me! Your crazy ways are going to get you killed one day.""Oh yeah, well at least I wont die an old man having doing nothing but scarf down barley and hops and smoke cigars until my lungs resemble a pot of boiling tar, stressed from extensive manual labor and mad because of all the things I could have done." A silent and concealed chuckle that sounded like the letter 'K', sputtered from Joe's mouth. "Let's go!" Richard hopped off first, followed by Joe. The two men approached the area where the helicopters rested. In the large tower, the old man glanced briefly at the men before returning to his book and stuffing some unknown fruit in his mouth. "It shouldn't take us much more than thirty minutes to reach the spot." They both climbed in and fitted themselves in properly.Richard gauged the instruments and soon they were off. "How is Claira?""Oh, she's fine. She had that meeting and she is really moving up. I'm proud of her achievements, and especially as a wife. Is everything OK with you and Susan?""Oh sure! Sure! She's at the room waiting for me.""Oh my, aren't we lucky." Before Richard could indulge in the compliment, Joe was blabbering some more. "Or might I say unlucky. All these beautiful Brazilian women.""You're married!""I know, I know! A man is going to be a man. You understand what I'm saying.""Yeah, right! Fuck around and bring Claira back a splendid case of Malaria.""Oh, funny!""Hey Joe, you know you are my good friend and I'm really glad you could make it." His tone is suddenly softer, less obsessive."Yeah man, no problem." Silence set in, and then suddenly the helicopter blades' whisper became more noticeable. The helicopter ride was pretty smooth, and before long, they were approaching the spot. Richard looked down to focus on exactly where he wanted to land."Hey Rich, do you know where you're gonna drop this baby?""Yes!" Richard exclaimed with a hint of irritation. "I spotted this location when I brought the investors out here.""Yeah, if you say so." The helicopter-descended right where Richard wanted to land, and the men hopped out quickly after Rich slowed the rotors. "Damn, man!""What now, Joe!""This ground is kind of mushy.""Yeah, well let's go up the bank a bit. It's probably dry ground there." They walked some distance away from the river, noticing all the sounds of wild birds, insects, and other unidentifiable creatures lurking in the forest. The two men did not notice the eyes concealed behind trees that obscured the watchers.Richard remembered something Professor Akbar had said during the flight. "The mistake modern people make is assuming old stories existed only for entertainment." At the time Richard had dismissed the comment. Standing beneath the rainforest canopy, it seemed less amusing. These were the keen eyes of many men in ceremony. Richard walked around with dignity, unaffected by the eerie sounds of the jungle. They walked down a pathway that naturally split the forest slightly. Joe looked around several different times trying to locate what was actually making those sounds.The trail ended, but this new area had space to go several different directions. The thick layer of trees blocked the sunlight, which made their range of sight only fifty to seventy feet. Any further than that was not possible to see because a bundle of trees layered in tropical vines of some sort blocked the view. Richard stood about twenty feet away in one corner and listened to Joe expound on their surroundings."Is that a parrot? I have never seen a bird with so many different colors, and so bright. The next thing you know you'll have me out here having conversations with wild birds.""Well Joe, for you that's probably fitting. I'm sure you all would have much in common," replied Richard with extreme sarcasm, just like the two friends were used to.Joe responded, first with a look that he said he'd had enough. "Look!" which was spoken firmly, "you already have me out here in a Western version of our motherland, thinking we are part of Harubu nation. Biiiiiitch….!" This was spoken with a serious drag, but firmly and the tone seemed to be hateful. However, that was not the case. The two friends were used to crude humor — it was just a part of their usual jocular ways."We might as well paint our faces and hold spears while chanting syllables we have never even heard before, maybe go comatose from some of these unrecorded psychedelic plants."Richard could not do anything but release gentle laughs and smirks. "You are a damn fool." He continued laughing."You're laughing, but I'm serious," replied Joe with a smirk of his own. The men walked through the other end of the opening. They began walking another path, and ahead of them were eyes watching them, but the two friends did not notice. Richard walked ahead and Joe followed, but they were still unaware that they were being observed. Where was the watcher? In a tree? It was unclear since they did not notice the eyes at all.The two friends could not hear them, but there were chants of high praise, the sound of wood clicking as if primitive drums were being played. The sun descended toward the western skyline. The sounds of primitive instruments of string also echoed and blended well with the looming nighttime forest chatter. A gloomy mist lifted, as did an aurora of the mystic. Images of primitive dancers indigenous spirits flashed about, accompanied with sounds of dancing and chanting, this intensified fiercely, but Rich and his companion could not hear this. In fact, to them it did not even exist. The eyes belonged to real men but also to the spirits that were being called upon. The sounds grew louder and the images flashed more intensely as pre-darkness snuck upon them."Richard, it's getting dark." Richard walked as if he did not hear his friend speaking to him. "I don't know what it is you're trying to do out here. I mean way out here in no man's land. I mean, I mean, there are probably species we haven't seen yet. And you got me out here after sunset. And it's shit out here, what if a goddamn wild cat, or a muthafuckin…uh…uh...whatever the fuck. It's all kind of shit out here. I don't even know what to name. And you wanna come digging shit up. Something's gotten into you, that's a clear understatement. You're just crazy. I feel like I'm in ancient Aztec."His reverie rudely interrupted, Richard replied, "Excuse my impudence, but it figures. With your mental capacity, obtuse as it may be, you couldn't begin to grasp the benefits.""Well fuck you, and whatever you said. Just because you're Rich, Rich! You know I'm gonna speak my mind.""I guess we better get back," Richard said swiftly. "Just follow me down this path we previously trotted.""I hope you know your way out of this Jungle.""Joe, don't be a fool." As they walked about in search for where they had landed, the sounds of night now overlapped the earlier sounds they heard. Their ears sent their brains messages that were more eerie still. Joe again looked with panic as he tried to locate a sound his ears continued to register but his mind could not identify. Richard walked fast, and Joe seemed to fall further behind. The mysterious forest sounds and the unfamiliarity of the wild life terrain slowed him. Then suddenly he began to sprint up a hill perpendicular to the pathway. "I need to take a leak. Hold up man, hold up!" Richard was far ahead and barely heard him."What Joe?" He continued walking unaffected by the watchers and sounds."Oh shit!" Joe replied. In his mind, he thought, Damn, I must have slid down the other side. The fact that he needed to release urine didn't change. He yelled out, "Richard, Richard!" Richard stopped in his tracks well ahead, turned around and softly replied. "Joe, what? Where are you." He spoke softly, standing in his tracks with a bit of impatience. He began to slowly walk towards Joe's cries. Joe decided his bladder needed emptying now. He chose a huge tree to stand upon to do his dirty work. No one was presumably looking, but he decided to choose a tree to conceal himself anyway. He probably was used to a huge Maple or Oak, and the bulging roots were normally used as stepping-stones. Joe did what he was used to and participated in one of the best releases ever. Standing there on two huge roots, he began to let her rip. He cocked back his head and relaxed while enjoying a much needed drainage. As the last morsels dripped out, he cocked his head back even further and enjoyed the shiver he received. "Oh shit," shouted Joe. His body cocked forward from the sudden collapse from underneath him. It appeared the surface beneath had given way. What happened to the roots he was standing on? That was far from his mind. "Oh shit, damn!" yelled Joe, and the he loudly repeated his friend's name over and over. "Richard! Richard! I'm stuck in some kind of trap. Shit man, come get me out of this shit."With a smile passing over his face, Rich replied, "I'm coming, I'm coming." After yelling, Richard whispered to himself. "What has he gotten himself into now?" Richard walked forward, but then began to yell again."Joe! You know, when you bad–mouth the land, it's not nice to you." Joe could not actually hear him; he was still a good distance away. "Hey! Hey! Oh shit, Oh shit," yelled Joe at the top of his lungs. He continued with a certain increase in despair, "It's squeezing me. I'm being…Oh shit man, something's squeezing me. Augh! Augh," yelled Joe. Richard began to hear scarcely that his friend was in distress."I'm coming Joe," Richard replied while accelerating his efforts towards the cries. Joe continued struggling as something beneath entangled his legs. Joe did not realize the mysticism involved in his attack. All he knew was that something was squeezing his legs very tightly. They had his legs entangled and it felt to him like anacondas wrapped around his legs crushing them. He could not scream much more because of the exhaustion caused by his efforts to be free. Just above him, two massive branches plummeted down on Joe's head. They were unnoticed because Joe was about ready to pass out. The branches cracked his skull, and thick goo oozed down his grotesque face.Richard slid down the same slope Joe did, and then sprinted down the same trail. He called out, "Joe, Joe." He was curious as to why he could not hear his friend's big mouth anymore. "Joe, Joe," exclaimed Richard repeatedly while running in circles frantically. Eventually, he came across what was left of Joe. He stumbled in full stride and his face immediately reflected his disbelief and shock. He stopped completely and kneeled over, both hands on corresponding knees, and began to barf profusely. He noticed that Joe was definitely dead and buried from waist high near a tree. He did not stand around much longer; Richard turned and ran fast as he could down the same path non-stop. Richard mind began flashing on the image of Joe's fractured skull. It was horrendous to look at and could have made anyone freak out.Stumbling a few times, Richard finally made it to the mushy terrain where he had landed the helicopter. His feet constantly got stuck as he ran the final fifteen meters before jumping aboard his escape module. Mud dripped from his feet and sweat poured from his face caused by the hyperventilation and sheer panic. Richard ignited the engine, commanding the chopper to take off. It managed to ascend into the air even though it was partially buried in the soft ground Richard noticed nothing but the images that flashed through his mind. Pure panic reigned supreme in Richard's mind as he fondled the complex instruments. During the whole flight, his eyes were fixed in a placid stare and would have mesmerized anyone who dared to look into them. Breathing frantically, the images were flashing more rapidly than before through his mind. Then he noticed the tower to his right, and where the other helicopter sat unmolested. He quickly commanded the chopper to descend to the right forty-five degrees. Richard had no clue as to what had happened; in fact, confusion was just a small portion of what was brewing inside of him. The helicopter landed safely but roughly as Rich continued to wrestle with his psyche. Controlling it proved laborious and indeed hideous. He jumped out of the craft and scampered about the field appearing extremely anxious. The erratic flying aroused vigilance in the little man in the tower, and he now gazed at Richard running for the nearest transport. The little man was puzzled out of his wits, sat down after scratching his head and merely shrugged his shoulders.Richard arrived in his room, paranoia the major ingredient in his state of mind. He made a valiant effort to turn the knob of his room's door, and then entered, anxiously closing the door behind him."Hey Boo!… What's wrong?" Mrs. Dickenson said, curiously waiting for her husband's response."What?" His words were spoken sharply as he came to his senses. "Oh, nothing is wrong!""Well why did you close the door like something was chasing you?" Richard turned and looked at the door, pausing before saying, "I didn't know I closed the door any kind of certain way."Mrs. Dickenson's eyes showed her concern. "Well, what took you so long? The investors are in the banquet room waiting on you. And did you pick up Joe?"Richard listened with a sense of preoccupation and responded suspiciously. "That was the problem. I got a call that his flight would be delayed. I went to pick him up and he never showed." He sat on the bed with nervous gestures and rejected his wife's soft touches and condolences."Well, Boo, your letting this project get to you, maybe you need...""Maybe I don't need shit!" Richard exclaimed rudely. "I don't need anything. Look, this project is very important and is sure to cause some anxiety.""That's fine baby, but damn! If it is going to have you like a paranoid nut, then this project needs reevaluation."Look bitch! I don't need any of your badgering. I don't need anyone on my back about this project. I'm the one who envisioned this and no one else."Richard arose from the bed, snatching away from his wife and making his way to the door. When he slammed the door behind him, for some reason it triggered those awful flashes again. This time they weren't images of Joe, but images of blue. The images intensified as he approached the banquet room, and the images made it difficult to make a straight face. Now they were also accompanied by some strange and blurry flashes of red. Joe flashed through his mind as well, but this time there were men all around the late Joe. It soon became apparent those men that surrounded Joe were the authorities, and the red and blue lights were accompanied by a loud siren. Richard began to examine the idea that police would slow down the project, if not nullify any chances of the investors supporting him. With that very distinct notion, he straightened his face and joined the investors' celebration."Mr. Dickenson, hey! Where have you been," said Dick joyfully just before he guzzled another martini down his trap."Just call me Rich!""Hey man. What is the matter with you anyway? Dick exclaimed like a true drunken sailor."Gentlemen, Gentlemen! Hey Richard! Nice presentation! Everything looked smooth!" Tapping Richard on the hand, Peter continued to say, "Dick! Hey, don't you agree?""Sure, Sure," Dick responded with a slur."You're drunk! I'm sure glad we didn't leave this discussion entirely up to you." All three men drank glass after glass until Richard's wife walked through the room with a very unhappy look on her face. As usual, Dick was the first one to blabber. "Hey, Mrs. Dickenson! What's wrong?She replied softly, "I'm fine!" as Susan continued past the gentlemen, rolling her eyes at Rich as she approached the bar for a drink."What's wrong with your wife?" Richard shrugged his shoulders and walked away from the gentlemen. "Jim, come join us!" Dick shouted. Jim walked over to join Dick and Peter with his own drink tightly gripped in his hands. Dick blurted, "Hey Jim whets up? Lovely project!"Jim replied gingerly with body gestures while Peter exclaimed, "I think Mr. Dickenson is acting a little strange.""Well you saw that his wife seemed angry!""Yeah, that's enough to make any man act strange." Peter accepted his comrade's suggestion, but his face complemented his previous skepticism. "I don't know." "It's probably just married problems""Richard probably gave her a quickie and escaped out here with us.""Yeah! I do that to my wife all the time.""Yeah Dick, but you aren't ever trying to escape somewhere."Dick stood, obviously mystified and trying to grasp Jim's comments. The gentlemen continued to talk amongst themselves while the other investors were enjoying their own conversations. Richard sat down alone on a lobby couch, with his hands draped over his face and head slanted downwards. Jim Winterlin walked from down the hall, drunk, but his keen eye noticed Richard sitting there. "Hey… Hey, Richard! Hey, what are you doing over here? Why are you not over there entertaining your guests?" Richard tried to respond, but just before he could say anything, Jim spoke again. "Hey Richard," spoken firmly as if trying to suppress his intoxication. "Is there something wrong? This isn't the same extremely excited Richard. The presentation did go well, and we're telling you that, so why the sad face. Is there something you need to tell us?"Richard immediately realized the inflection in the other man's voice could mean danger, or maybe it was just his own paranoia, and he responded quickly. "Oh no, there's nothing wrong. And there's nothing to worry about. Not at all. I just want to make things back right."A confused look crossed Jim's face. "What back!""What I mean is, I wanted to make sure things were in order and I can get back the glory.Jim replied, "Glory huh!?""Yes sir, this will allow us to conquer South America's shipping industry.""Well I'm glad you think big, Richard. That is why we have our faith in you and this task you brought to the table. Just don't worry about it — don't let it get to you. You have our financial backing. You just execute." He patted Richard on the back while rising to return to his drunken swagger. His destination was more drinks.Richard calmly remained seated, hands on knees, and regaining his composure, he began to realize there was no stopping now. He noticed the soft touches of his wife's hand pulling his to join her. He arose and kissed his wife as if there were nothing wrong."I'm sorry dear, for being a Jack Ass. I just let all that presentation stuff get to me."Susan politely put her finger on his lips and replied, "Let's go dance." With a satisfied smile gleaming across her face, the two finished the night drinking and dancing.CHAPTER FIVEThe flight home was restless for Rich. He contemplated what happened repeatedly, and he knew that he needed to succeed to make some good come out of this terrible loss. During his deep thought, he watched the trees disappear with the plane's ascension. When there was nothing but clouds to observe, he thought again, on how this project would be successful and his friend would not be lost for nothing. Finally nodding off, his daydreams carried over to his eventual sleep. Not even realizing he had nodded off, the sight of a man in the midst of the forest made up his mental imagery. His back was turned away from Richard, so all that he could see was the figure of a man standing mysteriously just about beyond his vision. He decided to walk toward the man because his curiosity grew overwhelmingly and could not be denied. As he got closer, he noticed the man began to walk away as if he knew someone was following him. The man never did look back, which is probably why Richard's inquisitiveness began to commandeer his very thoughts and actions.He tried to catch up, but to no avail, and before a full effort could be administered, he realized the man had vanished. Richard stopped in his tracks after losing sight of the man, and he looked around, assuming he must have hidden behind a tree. Looking back and forth and all around robotically, assuring full coverage of all areas he could at least see would not be overlooked. No matter the effort, there was no sight of the man and the place where he stood now seemed the same. Nevertheless, he was compelled to search, and he looked behind that vining tree to his right. "Oh, shit," Richard blurted, after being startled by a hand gripping his shoulders, which caused him to turn around rapidly. This man had obviously sneaked up on him, and Richard realized that maybe he was mystical in some way. Looking more attentively, Rich noticed the man was Joe. This frightened him dearly, causing sheer panic to curl beneath his lamina of courage. The mysterious man then placed his other hand around Richard's neck and began to shake furiously. Richard shouted at the top of his sleeping lungs and opened his eyes to notice his beautiful wife was now that man. She was only shaking him softly to advise him that they were the only ones left on the plane."Come on, Richard. We're the only ones left. Get Up!" Malicious grog spilled from Rich's mouth and his face showed his wide awake vigilance. "I'm up! I'm up! I must have dozed off," said Richard convolutedly, realizing that he must have been dreaming."Well you don't say," uttered Susan with splendid mordacity. "Come on, let's go!" She pulled him up and they exited the plane. After picking their little one up, they arrived at the gate before their home, and not a moment too soon for Richard. "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Dickenson," they heard the guard exclaim joyfully after activating the beautiful gates."Hello, Hayword," Susan said softly. Richard and Dainisa just looked on."Everything is fine and secure here, sir! Nothing old Hayword Jeffries can't secure, or even protect for that matter." He talked to Richard with encouraging gestures in an attempt to please him. He rambled on, but his words seem to evade Richard's ear, because he continued walking until he was entirely through the door. Richard actually headed straight for his bed to pass out into a deep sleep."Mommy! What's wrong with Daddy?" "Oh, Boo! Daddy is just tired. We had a long trip. Are you hungry dear?""No ma'am. I ate pizza. Can I play the game?""Sure, I'll be in your room to hook it up in a minute." The little girl dashed to her room with joy to gather her components. Susan found her favorite book, made a cup of tea, and set the items where she had normally sat by herself to read. Proceeding to her daughter's room, she peeked at her husband to see him just about hibernating. She shook her head and continued with her previous task."Mommy, Mommy, I want to play this game first!" Susan concentrated on assembling the components and connecting the necessary wiring to each respective outlet. "OK dear! Cut the power on." The little girl pushed the button. "OK, let me hold that. I need to set it up" She placed the game on easy and adjusted the other settings to assure a lengthy game. Her plan was to get the little one out of the way so she could concentrate on relaxing while reading her book and sipping her tea. After sitting down, she sighed from the deepened relaxation she felt from the soft seating. Her face indicating relief after tasting the hot scorching tea, Susan made soothing grunts and moans. Taking another sip, she reached for her book while gulping down another sip, and then she placed the cup down with a frown from the hot tea. A quick thought of her husband drifted into her mind. Shrugging it off, she slowly opened the book at the ribbon she had placed between pages before and began reading.The little one had played the game until she was sound as sleep, but the game continued to play even though there was no one operating it. Three hours had passed and it was extremely late. Susan continued reading, not realizing she was now halfway through. She had no intentions of stopping. Besides, she had reached a part in which events unfurled unexpectedly, and it ate at her to know what would happen next. Intrigued, she continued to read diligently as curiosity flamed her every thought-spoken. The reading intensified paragraph after paragraph, until… "Ring, ring! Ring, ring!" The ringing continued, but she tried to ignore it. However, it became unbearably harsh. "Ring, ring!" Annoyed, she placed the book down with its face open and rushed to answer the phone. "Ring, ring!" She accelerated her efforts unaware that her hustle was futile, because the caller on the other end had no intention of hanging up."Hello," she said exasperatedly."Hi, is this Susan?""Well, yes it is!""I'm sorry to call so late, but is Richard available?""Oh! No! He is asleep. Who might I say is calling?""I'm sorry! This is Claira Geshy. I was calling to see if Richard had heard from my husband Joe.""Oh, hi Mrs. Geshy. I didn't recognize your voice. No! I think he said Joe had called and said his plane would be late, but he never showed.""That's strange! Susan, do you happen to know which flight he was supposed to be on.""One of Richard's private jets.""Oh dear! Well, thank you. You have been a big help," Claira said sadly. The two terminated the call, and Susan now lost all interest in her book, deciding to cut the lights off in preparation for bed. In the dark, Claira remained seated for several minutes. Something felt wrong. Joe was many things. Late was not one of them. For the first time, a thought entered her mind that she immediately tried to reject. What if Joe had never made it home? The first task was to tuck her Boo away in bed and to cut off her lights and gaming console. When she reached her own room, she immediately cut the room's illumination to nil and jumped into the bed to eye her husband like a private one. She wondered why he was acting so strange, and the call from Claira seemed stranger still, but she nudged those thoughts aside and went to sleep. The next morning she awakened on her side with her eyes still closed, and she proceeded to roll over until flat on her back. She rolled again, but this time flat on her face with her legs stretched as if she were making an angel in snow with silky white sheets. "Honey," she said, her voice muffled from her facedown posture. "Honey…," she said rolling over quickly again and raising up on her buttocks, supported in a sitting position by her hands spread behind her like twin kickstands for a bike. She now opened her eyes only to confirm what she already knew — he was gone. Now she knew this project was more important than she was. Richard had stepped into his office at the same moment his partner was wiping the early morning grog from her face. The first thing on Richard's mind was to get on the phone and contact the necessary party to assemble a survey crew. Intensity raged as he approached the phone. He knew this team had to be special, because they needed to be special. A good camp site was needed, as well as somewhere to dock the boats. He thought he would take a shortcut, because all he needed was an engineer to approve the site. This would allow construction ships and crews to be amassed at his visionary location without having to use his own capitol. He needed two civil engineers to go with the survey crew, but they were not available as soon as tomorrow. This prompted two trips, because there could be no delay."I need three land surveying contractors trained in navigation, also some helicopters pilots and field surveyors." Demands continued to spill from Richard's mouth. "And no matter what credentials. I need skilled people."A panicked utterance followed from the other end of the line: "No problem, Mr. Dickenson. We have the skilled party you need. I'll fax you the contract specifications."The men terminated the call, and a pleased smile ripped across Richard's face. He pressed a memory button on his phone, and a few moments later he blurted, "John! Let me see you in my office." Richard cocked back his legs for relaxation and sipped some of Columbia's finest.John entered the room, hesitantly uttering, "Yes sir!?""I need you to assure the survey crew gets on the plane and arrives in South America safely. I also want you to maintain communication with them, and report anything to me, immediately!""Yes sir! Yes sir!""I'm going home. I've been neglecting my wife, but be sure to call me if anything happens.""Yes sir!""You may dismiss everyone else for the day, but you need to be here to assure phase one is completed." Richard turned away from John's unappeased face and walked gallantly out of the office. It was no time and his car sped off with seemingly no regard for traffic regulations. He was still filled with uneasiness because the project still needed the engineer's approval, but it was just a matter of confirming structural integrity. That is why he had delayed any other engineers' arrival on site — he needed his special engineer for the job. His plan was to send the survey crew just to get the dimensions of the land and to label that a specific site. Then later he'd introduce this labeled site to the engineers as a point on the map, not mentioning the exact measurements and hoping just an inspection of the general area would suffice. All he could think about was shortcuts and that nothing could delay this process.CHAPTER SIXMeanwhile, Milo Evans briefed Ron, Nick, and Gary on the subject matter. "Mr. Rivera, Mr. Fusil, and Mr. Russy, may I get you gentlemen's attention for a moment. Are you ready to work." The crewmen were puzzled because their boss had never spoken out like that about a job.Nick Fusil replied, "What! What are you talking about? I'm always ready to work! What is this? Did some client complain? Gary! Are you ready to work? What about you Ron, are you ready?" Ron sat there with a deadpan face and said nothing. Gary had stood there all the while in his overalls, his rough beard and mustache seemingly two in one.The hefty man replied, "Milo, What's up?""No one complained, but I have a job in which there can be no complaints. It's a field job, and it will pay some good money."Nick's cockiness soared. "Well, we've done plenty of field jobs." Before he could blabber on further, Mr. Evans explained. "No, this is no ordinary field job. The only reason I even took this job is because I have my aviation license."With excitement, Ron blurted out, "Oh shit! We have to fly this trip!" Gary intervened while puffing on his extremely large cigar. "Where exactly are we going, Milo?""Well gentleman, this is an international job. Gary was stymied from replying because of the smoke engorged in his throat.Ron Rivera sat with wonder, but slowly he managed to respond. "You mean we're leaving the country?""Yes, we are going to South America!""South America! What? Why do we have to go all the way to South America," Ron said with a truly opposing tone in his voice."Because, that is where the job is located, you idiot. Look, we take his plane to a city in Brazil. There are helicopters waiting, where we will use them to go to the designated spot and survey the area."Still enriched in the aroma of tobacco, Gary replied. "Where exactly in Brazil?""Central Brazil!""Isn't that thick forest?""Yeah, but we will measure along the North and East coast. Gary! I need you to build a small dock, or just something sufficient to tie boats to, also a camp, which may take a few days. I think Mr. Dickenson wants everything to remain so that he can bring other inspectors"Gary replied with a peculiar tone. "Mr. Dickenson?""That's the client who wants the work done. He's actually a very wealthy man.""Oh!" With his curiosity some what alleviated, Gary said, "So I see! You called upon all of us for our individual abilities. Ah, now I get it."Nick blurted, "Yeah, Milo has always been slick. We may not want to go all the way to Brazil to work in a thick jungle. Besides, we have enough business as it is. You said it will pay a lot, but I doubt that it pays that much. Yeah, I heard about South America, and what I heard wasn't peaches and cream."Ron was anxious to get his two cents in too. "Yeah Milo! How much is this Mr. Dickenson willing to pay?""Damn! I thought I could count on you men, but I guess I need to find some other people.""Naw, Milo! I'm with you," responded Gary with a deep hillbilly accent.""You still didn't tell us how much it pays.""Hold on, I'm getting to that.""I thought you didn't know." Ron looked at Milo with a sarcastic expression, and Nick muttered, "Man, we just fucking with you.""Yeah man, lighten up." The leader of the group took a deep breath before offering his defense. "Well, the exact figures aren't worked out just yet, but…""What?" The word was spoken sharply by both Ron and Gary simultaneously."Calm down! Calm down! How much is it paying?"Milo smiled. "Enough to buy patience."Nick laughed. "That's not a number.""Triple what you made last year."Silence filled the room. Milo Evans continued to give the particulars of the job while he had his crew's undivided attention. "He seemed very eager to have this done ASAP. I told him! Hey, I've got four men who will be away from their families for a while, and on such short notice. Check this! I said hey, a long-range trip like this will probably be in the mid to high six figure range. That is for all of my men.""OK, OK, Milo!""Hey wait! I told him, I don't even know how much land is to be surveyed and how harsh the terrain may be.""Oh, Milo! I get it! We have the flexibility to tack on additional fees. Yeah, I like that." Ron turned and looked at Gary and Nick while Milo observed them all. The men remained silent as their faces appeared to gleam with avidity."OK, We'll meet here early, before dawn, and fly out tomorrow at dawn. Gary! Be sure to order all the equipment and materials you may need. They need shipping before we leave.""Aye sir!" The words were spoken as of through congestion, due to the massive smoke that curled around Gary's face. Hayword opened the beautiful gates to let Richard in. He seemed preoccupied, but in a pretty gingerly mood. Everything was moving according to plan, except he had forgotten to check with John to assure a cargo helicopter was delivered to the site. He refused to call him, declaring he'd had enough for one day. Besides, he figured it had better be there or John would have to answer to him."Hello Mr. Dickenson," Hayward said with a doit of anticipation. Richard nodded his head, but continued for his doorway incessantly. Hayword had dreamed of being able to confront Mr. Dickenson, hoping to move up in stature. People even thought he was a little on the loose side because he had been seen talking to himself. More like a full blown conversation is what they actually witnessed. What the watchers didn't know was that he was just practicing for a conversation with Richard and was determined to make his worth known. "Mr. Dickenson! Blurted the gentle servant, but his boss seem unphased. "You know Mr. Dickenson. I know how to get the maximum potential out of me." The servant got the boss man's attention as indicated by the capricious look that landed on Richard's face.He responded sarcastically. "Son, if I'm not receiving maximum potential from you, than there's no point in having you.""Well, no sir! What I mean is, I have a lot more potential to be filled. Basically, you're using me ineffectively and inefficiently. That doesn't quite correlate with the grand scheme of things, does it?""No it doesn't Mr. Reynolds. So what is your point?" Mr. Dickenson said rudely as he gripped his door handle and pressed his thumb down to open it.Hayword exclaimed, "I'm not just your ordinary security guard who is good for nothing but opening and closing gates all day. I have keen vision and much courage that will secure anything. Richard was well in the door before he was even halfway through his statement. However, Hayword still seemed relieved even though the door was slammed in his face."Honey," hollered Richard in a pleasing voice despite being hampered just moments before. Just a moment drifted without an answer, as he fumbled through today's mail. His attention was captured by an eccentric colored envelope that, for some reason, reminded him of his wife, maybe because the color resembled their wedding invitations. Nevertheless, he failed to open any of the mail, instead hollering loudly, "Sweety!" Unsure if her silence was intentional, he called out again very sharply and with a touch of mendacity. Richard even looked around his huge house in that very manner, wondering where she could be. "Hey! I'm sorry dear! I know I haven't been showing you much attention, and I know I've been putting work before my precious dear." After no response, Richard's expression turned sour with possibilities."Honey, Where are you?" He squealed deplorably, but there still was no response, and the house seemed to grow extremely quiet. It was obviously affecting him intensely because he began to search the rooms frantically. Sprinting upstairs like a training athlete, so overwhelmed by his sorrow, he failed to check their room until last. That is where she sat in her elegant and comfortable reading chair. Her eyes showed a touch of enjoyment at his search for her, but her face was also earnest. Richard stared her in the eyes after all of his pleading and approached her position gently. She curled up in her chair as if it were her last stand. She tried to stiffen her stare, and pressing her body against the plush leather chair.Richard searched the house. "Susan?" No answer. For a moment panic rose inside him. Then he found her upstairs. Waiting. Watching. Not angry. Disappointed. That hurt far more. He crossed the room slowly. "I'm sorry." She remained silent. "I know I've put this project before everything else." Still silence. "Before you." Finally she looked up. The hardness in her expression softened. "You always say that." "This time I mean it." She studied him. Then finally nodded. Richard kissed her forehead. For the first time in weeks he felt at peace.CHAPTER SEVENThe next morning, that glare was commanding once again, causing Susan to toss and turn. "Honey," poured out of her lips, which were smashed from her face and mouth being pushed do far into her pillows that she was nearly suffocated. Feeling her hands about the bed, she noticed only her hands glide across silky sheets, and that the sun was undefeated. She rose with a bit of frustration from the empty feeling her bed gave. Upset at the fact she couldn't hold her honey was enough, but that glare was truly the dominant factor in her rude awakening. It was proven because Richard experienced that same glare about thirty minutes before. Susan sat up and turned her back towards the glare, taking nearly an hour to get out of bed. Meanwhile, Richard was already directing the office personally, gathering any needs for the project. The survey crew was on their way. The plane flight was smooth and the four gentlemen finally landed in beautiful but wild Amazonian land. The small airstrip had remained the same since Richard's last invigorating encounter. The air was sill accompanied with the sun's vibrant shine, and the humidity was overwhelming. The four gentlemen exited the bombardier built jet Richard had reserved for them.Nick Fusil was the first to exit the plane in his same confident and cocky manner. "Goddamn! Shit! It's hot as fish grease. I see why we're getting paid, quote-unquote, big bucks."The others exited, and with no hesitation, Ron replied, "Nick, man, you can stand a little heat for the bread."Nick looked at Ron with a pitiful gaze, replying. "Yeah, I'll bet! You Mexican, Spanish, Puerto Rican muthafuckas are used to this heat.""Nick, don't start with me, because your black ass is pretty scorched yourself. The last I heard, it was pretty hot in Africa.""Man. I haven't been to Africa in over four hundred years. Shit, we the brown race now, just living in America. At least we're not so damned emotional."Gary looked at the others and said, "Knock it off. We're here to make some money and that is all." The scrawny old man from the tower approached the men. "Hey gentlemen," he said shrewdly and still with an unidentifiable accent. "I guess you gentlemen are Richard's men. That big old cargo helicopter sitting over there just arrived. The pilot should still be inside. He can help you all load the chopper and fly you to the destination."Excuse me, but who are you?" Nick declared, stepping in front of everyone and sounding very demanding. The old man shrugged his shoulder and kept silent.He started walking towards the helicopter and Milo Evans followed. "Come on guys, follow me," uttered Milo. The old man proceeded in front of the crew with a swagger and said nothing for the moment."Damned hot, and I thought Florida was hot!" cried Nick while continuing to complain about the fierce heat that seemed to hold him down and pound on him. Gary seemed unaffected as he puffed away. Milo and Ron were engaged in their own conversation that brewed with laughter.Finally reaching the chopper, the old man said, "Gentlemen! The pilot!" Not quite sure of his name, he continued, sputtering, "He can fly you all and help load or unload, or whatever it is you need to do. I don't know what the plan is, but the man seemed obsessed." The men loaded the helicopter and the old man returned to his tower. The pilot was silent as he sat in his cockpit and fiddled with the gadgets before him.The gentlemen sat down, but Nick couldn't resist blurting out, "Well, Mr. Rude, I guess you don't speak…"Milo interjected, "Excuse me, sir. What is your name and function, or at least after you drop us off?" The pilot remained silent for a moment, looked at Milo and then glanced over at Nick, and finally declared, "I was instructed to fly you to the project site, and to help with any unloading.""Are you camping out with us." The pilot chuckled before saying, "Oh No…! I'm just a pilot who is dropping you off at your destination."Nick spoke out boldly as if Milo's interruption irked him. "You mean you're leaving us out here! Oh, Hell no! Just leaving us in the middle of nowhere?""Hey look!" The pilot yelled dejectedly. "I'm not paid to go camping in a thick rainforest." He chuckled again before completing his statement. "Oh no! I'm sorry.""Hey Nick, we're getting paid for this, OK. Be easy," replied Ron."The pilot yelled, "Hey, will you tell Mr. Bungalow over there to put that cigar out, damn! Everybody doesn't find it easy to inhale the smell of crude tobacco and used motor oil. My helicopter is not an auto shop."Gary said nothing but continued to puff away."Just fly the damned helicopter," replied Nick.The helicopter lifted away. The noise faded. Then disappeared entirely. Silence. A strange silence. Not empty. Watching. Waiting. The men stood motionless. For the first time they understood how alone they truly were. Milo looked out of the window and noticed the drifting Amazon below, and he asked, "What about an emergency, how can we contact you.""There's radio equipment that you all will be setting up in your camp. Mr. Dickenson will arrive in a couple of days." The gentlemen registered discomfort on their faces, but they had nothing else to complain about. The remaining flight was calm, but the pilot was aggravated from the smoke Gary persisted to exhale. "OK gentlemen, we are finally here. Now you men can get the hell out of my sight.""Well, thank you too," replied Nick. The pilot adjusted the helicopter controls and proceeded to descend. The landing was smooth and the four men were eager to get out of the cramped helicopter. Nick jumped out of the helicopter and looked around excitedly. With an amazed look upon his face, he shouted, "Goddamn. Now where the hell are we?"Milo replied, "I showed you on the map.""Yeah, I know, but I didn't imagine we'd be in the middle of a jungle." Ron looked as if he had seen a ghost. "Oh man, how in the hell are we going to start this survey with all these thick trees, man?!"In the meantime, Gary unloaded his supplies while Ron and Nick continued their complaints. Gary then walked over to the banks and scanned the scenery.While unloading equipment: Gary notices footprints. Bare human footprints. Too large. Too deep. Not recent. Not ancient. Just...wrong. Gary says: "Anybody else see these?" Nobody does. When he looks again: There Gone."Milo!" shouted Gary."Yes Gary, what do you need?" Gary trudged over with an obvious look of disappointment. "There's no way in the hell I can build a boat dock with this limited equipment.""Well, what are you missing?" "Well, first of all, look at the shoreline. I'm going to need some digging done, not to mention special equipment. The boat is too big."Milo looked puzzled, but then advised Gary to improvise. "Just build a small one. We may have to anchor the boat and bring smaller ones to shore.""OK! That will work.""Oh Gary, do you have enough bagged cement to build a landing pad for the choppers, because this area seems a bit soft and mushy to land.""Yeah, I noticed that. That Briscoe guy must be used to this area." The pilot had finally told them his name in flight."Hey Briscoe, this ground is pretty tough to land on, huh!""Well, this cargo chopper has a strong motor to take of with — quick sand probably won't stop it from ascending.""Great! Great!" Milo declared, but he was continuing to speak commandingly. "Has all the equipment been unloaded?""Yes," exclaimed Captain Briscoe. The pilot advised of his departure and told them to radio if the encountered any problems. Nick looked on, anxious to chastise."Hey, you fucker! You better not leave us here, shit. I don't do jungles, and where I'm from, we kick the ass of any muthafucka who wants to strand another muthafucka!""Calm down, Nick! Gentlemen, listen up! We need to devise a plan to get this job done.""I don't know man, Milo! It seems, I don't know! Something hasty to me.""I don't understand Nick, look at it this way. We will be able to contact him by radio.""Are you sure about that," replied Nick with a slander in his eyes and his anger boiling within."Yes, I'm sure the radio is adequate. Isn't that right Mr., or Captain, Briscoe!" Briscoe showed slim patience and offered an agitated response. "The radio is already set to the necessary frequency. You just make sure you connect it to adequate power. A good generator, like the one I helped unload, should suffice.""Gary, that's a check… OK, great! Gentlemen, first we need to get started on the camp, and Gary, do the best you can with the dock situation. Make sure the camp's rain proof. I hear there's a lot of rain in this part of the globe.""Yeah, all we need now is to get drenched and have to radio in." Nick hawked in is throat and spit out a huge pile of cold mucous after letting everyone know how he felt."OK men, let's get that camp up first. We'll be sleeping the night here. So the camp is first, and the dock is second.""Hey, Milo! Do you think it would be better to take first recordings along banks and mark those as endpoints.""Go ahead, Ron. I'm listening.""That way, all we have to do is follow the eastern coast of this godforsaken land, to whatever distance is necessary."Captain Briscoe had overheard the conversation just before departing and said, "Hey, that's a shortcut. I don't know if my boss would appreciate this."The math will do the rest," Ron continued despite Briscoe's rude butting in."That's all we want right, the dimensions! I heard something about measuring dimensions and that's all.""Yeah!""But he will need us again when he brings the engineers with him, so there may be more money involved," replied Milo after huddling his crew to keep Briscoe from hearing them again. They were all amenable to the prospect of more money, but Nick doubted he would return. Just as that thought was chemically induced, he slapped his legs and blurted, "Yeah, I don't need any money, or whatever, more money. This will be enough! These damned mosquitoes, or shit, I don't even know if they are mosquitoes. Well, some are, but damn, they look like little dragons. What the fuck is this?" Nick ground at his face and slapped at his other leg. "You see what I mean. I must have sweet blood. I know ya'll being bit, but you act like you're not. See, I was tricked into this job, so yeah, I'm going to take my money. Then, I'm getting the fuck out of here, and I'm never coming back." Nick had comical intimations in his tone, but he was always serious.Gary proceeded with preparations for building the camp, but first he mixed the concrete with Amazonian waters. He prepared a mixture to help build a simple foundation for the camp, about thirty to fifty meters from shoreline. Nick began setting up their tents, while Milo and Ron set up the survey scoping equipment."Ron! Here's the plan. I'll walk down the north bank, to the east. I'll go until I reach the shoreline. We'll record in increments of 100 meters. After we have completed this side, we will then walk south along the eastern bank and repeat the process.""Well, how far down do we go?""We are supposed to be very close to the midpoint of this project, so according to this map, not tremendously far." Meanwhile, Gary hacked away with his hammer, his cigar hanging from the corner of his slightly closed lips. "Hey Nick, hold that, will ya please?""Yeah! Hold up and let me finish tying this down and I'll be right over there." Ron and Milo proceeded with their plan, and Gary, with some casual help from Nick, built a waterproof lab equipped with a gas tank for fuel and a power generator. The next thing was living quarters suitable for the living conditions of a rainforest. He didn't really need much of the concrete, so he built a mini-wall around the tents Nick had set."Nick, give me a hand with this digging.""Hey, you didn't tell me about this. I'm not a digger.""There's a shovel in the lab," Gary said with a bully's mentality. Nick did join him and they proceeded to dig. Maybe an hour went by and the heat poured grossly upon the men."Shit, it's hot as fuck," Nick said, seemingly with his last breath, and the clatter of his shovel as he tossed it to the ground served as punctuation."OK, that's enough, we can stop.""No!" Gary exclaimed, "just a little more.""Oh no, I'm through." Gary said with a look of disappointment growing upon hearing his friend's reply."What's wrong with you, man. We still got more shit to do. You're trying to make this extremely laborious in this bug-infested land." "OK, OK, let us lay the concrete. At least can you get the finisher while I set up and prepare to pour." Nick fetched the water while Gary continued to work rigorously, like he always did. He was a hard working man, and his appearance supported that claim. On the other hand, Nick was a hot shot know-it-all, but he didn't know it all, at least all that his attitude would suggest. He was indeed keen and aggressively outspoken, quite the opposite of Gary, especially the hard work part. If it weren't for his brilliance, he wouldn't be here, and the fact that these two were antipodal is probably why they worked well together."So Gary, what do you think?""What do you mean, Nick?""Well, about out here! Isn't this kind of extreme?" "Indeed, I guess the extreme part of it is what it takes for the big bucks." Gary spoke in spurts because he puffed his cigar in three second intervals, and Nick watched pathetically."Hey, it's a job, and if this is what it takes for the real money, then I'm all for it.""Hmm…," Nick smirked, and the gentlemen finished the task.CHAPTER EIGHTThe sun was beginning to descend into the latter part of the western skies, and those who could see it were astonished by the glistening reddish-orange King as it completed one more cycle."Hold up, Milo. You're moving too fast." From the distance came an echoed reply. "I'm trying to hurry up and finish before… oh shit!""What's the matter," Ron called out frantically as he accelerated his pace."Damn," was all Ron heard, and he replied. "What! What is going on? Milo!" There was a stagnant moment of silence before Milo could explain his grief. "I didn't see this on the map," Milo whined."What Milo? What?" Ron yelled as he approached closely, noticing Milo point with aggression."Holy shit, a goddamn stream." Ron had a puzzled look as he gazed at the roaring waters raging through the jungle.Milo continued, "We need to get across to measure the remaining distance to the eastern shoreline."Ron scanned his readings and suggested, "Well, how far could it be. I mean, we've measured this far.""But look, Ron! This stream isn't on the map, so I don't know if its 100m or 250m.""We'll, what the fuck are we going to do?""Tell you what, let me see," Milo said with a tone of growing confidence. "I'm going to run along this stream and see if there's some way to cross it.""Ah huh." A chuckle sputtered from Ron's mouth and he said, "I don't know if we can ford that stream — it's roaring.""Hold this," cried Milo as he darted his way boldly alongside the stream. Ron accepts his comrade's instruments, and then he watches as Milo slowly disappears into the thick forest. Ron clutched what he was holding harder as Milo became more and more difficult to see. He watched until Milo dropped out of his sight. In fact, the men knew that they needed hurry up with the remaining land because the light was dimming noticeably. Ron found this out when he tried to run after his boss. The sun was indeed setting, but it was difficult to determine because of the thick trees, but they had also underestimated the evening illumination in this forest land. It was not easy to see far ahead, and Milo was the first to find that out as he fought his way through thick branches, dense vines, and rough terrain. This proved even more difficult than it would normally be in a rainforest because he traveled on the edge of this mighty stream. The current traveled deep into the thick forest and showed no sign of an ending.Milo stopped. The stream should have ended. It didn't. Every turn revealed another bend. Another stretch. Another excuse to keep walking. He knew he should turn back. Yet something inside him insisted: Just a little farther.Milo began to get frustrated and did not realize how far downstream he had traveled. "Damn it!" His grunts and moans grew in frequency with his agitation. "Shit, Hmm…" The frustration now was being translated into determination, however, and he continued to fight through. At this point, he had forgotten what the true objective was in crossing the stream, but he wasn't aware let alone concerned about the loss of focus. Eventually, it became apparent there was no way across, and this caused him to now refocus into his own little zone. His paces began to increase as did his breathing, which corresponded to his every dedicated effort.Clump, clump!"Argh! Oh shit damn, damn, damn! Shit, I'm bleeding? I didn't see that damned sticker bush," screamed Milo in pain and showing it all as he stared the bush down. Milo picked himself up and sat on a tree stump to try to regain his breath. Blood ran furiously down his leg, and he neglected to wipe it, only to mope in disbelief. It was getting quite dark now, and he had wandered quite far. He looked at the stream with vengeance, because it was the reason why he was in this situation in the first place. He glanced at the blood that ran down his leg, almost giving it a dull stare, but then he quickly looked up at the stream with the same attitude for just a short moment. The path he thought would get him back to camp was now what he wanted to locate. However, he did not move. He only looked around several times before getting stuck gazing only at the roaring stream.He began to notice the beauty, then in the corner of his eyes, "What the fuck!" Looking up quick and distorted, he thought his eyes had caught the glimpse of a butt-naked man dashing through the forest. He dismissed this as an illusion, a hallucination brought on by his circumstances, and continued to stand hunched back over this huge tree stump. He thought to himself how amazing this stream was that he'd found flowing through the forest, but somehow the trees remained rooted. It resembled a river flowing through the jungle, and the beauty of the stream struck him again, but the sight of that man disturbed the wild elegance the stream represented. He could not deny what he thought he saw now. In an effort to see what, or who, seemed to be watching, Milo stumbled over the tree stump, and immediately called out in distress, hoping Ron could hear him even though he had traveled very far.Just before, when Milo had raged in terror, Ron believed he had heard something of that nature. He couldn't really decipher the sounds, or even the fact his buddy called out in distress. The fact that fear engulfed him, and his inability to make sense of all the different forest sounds, is probably what distorted his hearing. Nevertheless, Ron walked forward because Milo had not returned. The Latino man was reluctant to follow the treacherous path Milo had trotted moments before. "Milo!" Ron yelled loudly, again and again. "Milo," again exclaimed Ron even louder than before, but to no avail. He began to drift beyond his current position because he couldn't see very well. He also began to worry after several calls went unanswered. In a terrified manner, Ron quickly darted back toward camp to get the other crew. His frantic get away was evident, because he nearly stumbled over every other stump that was in his way.Finally making within shouting range of camp, he yelled, "Nick, Gary, hey man I need your help. Milo went off into the forest and wouldn't answer when I called for him. I thought I heard him cry for help." The men's attention was disrupted from their feasting upon a squirrel Gary had skinned and roasted. They both looked up to see why Ron was panting."What's wrong?" yelled Nick."Oh man! Fellas, you all got to help me.""What! Where's Milo?""That's the problem. He went off into the woods and has not returned." A chuckle came from Nick's mouth and he said, "He's probably fucking with your scary ass.""No way, man! We came across a stream and he went to see if it could be crossed but he never came back. I think he may have tried to cross and fell in — no telling what is in that murky water. We need to find Milo.""OK, OK, calm down! Calm down," said Gary in a surrendering tone. Before he could say anything else Nick blurted, "Calm down, damn! You scary fuck, we'll find him." Come on Gary, let's go and find Milo for this scary cunt.""Man, fuck you. I know when something is not right.""Oh yeah, sure Ronnie boy!" Ron became frustrated at Nick's comments, but he ignored him by speeding ahead of the crew to the last spot he saw Milo. Milo still sat next to the stream that wound within the depths of the forest and revealed no true beginning or ending. Blood had run unceasingly from his wound caused by his earlier blunder. There was also a botch on his head from his stumbling over the stump that he now used to relax and observe the stream, perhaps the man he'd seen in the trees if he showed himself again, and his wound. The head wound was the cause of his disorientation, and the reason for being severely startled as he plunged headlong into the water. Splashing violently, the relative coolness gave way to a burning sensation as his nose filled with water. The water also soothed his injuries with coolness. Finally floating to the top after plunging deep, he was when able to gasp for air and cough any trespassing water out. Even though he got this somewhat relief, his wound did not stop bleeding. This fact made the blood permeate the stream, and it began drifting on the currents, which he knew was not a good thing for him because he did not know what could be lurking in this winding stream.His wounds weren't making his panic better, which now pulsated with pain because the cold water effect had worn off. The blood continued to drip, making a long and scent filled trail. He was certain that there were all kinds of things in this water: alligators and crocodiles, water moccasins and anacondas. There were certainly all types of creatures lurking in the forest, especially a small isolated stream whose source was the mighty Amazon. There were fishes of all types: eels, stingrays, and even blood sucking leeches. Milo floated about, trying rigorously to stay above water, not only to catch his breath, but also not to notice what was beneath him. In fact, what was below these murky waters were all sorts of unknown creatures. There were also things of beauty swimming below — gaudy uncatalogued fish that were colorful and swam in synchronistic formations giving true meaning to nature. There were also spotted bass with their black dotted spots on their tails all about. At the bottom were beautiful fish with red bellies that swam in huge schools, their swimming patterns resembling military formations. They appeared more organized than any other fish, and reflected that same beauty from a distance. But all of a sudden their harmonious and synchronistic swimming became erratic and unstable. They appeared to have been aroused and now began to swim in huge swarms. The scent of blood was evident to these Amazonian creatures.As if he knew, Milo began to swim more frantically, sensing something in this water may want him for a meal. He knew he needed to get out the moment he plunged in yelling, "Help! Somebody help!" The water gagged him slightly and it was heard in his every cry. "Help, oh shit, oh shit! Ahhh…!" Milo yelled as loudly as he could manage. A huge swarm of piranha's teeth had engaged his wound fiercely, and they continued to strike by the hundreds. In moments, they had disintegrated his wound and continued to saw away with their teeth. Ten seconds later, Milo had a vacant stare upon his face. The very blood that kept him alive had dripped out of him, and the menacing fish continued to munch away leaving gapping holes in his legs. Hundreds of muscular fish with dentures that the local Indians used to cut their clothes were now being used to cut Milo. Thirty seconds had passed and they were now inside his cavity, feasting upon liver, heart, and stomach. Continuing in massive swarms, they engorged into what's left of the organs and finished the remaining flesh.There wasn't much left of Milo, except his partially torn clothes still hanging upon his skeletal frame, specifically his coat. The brain was valuable for its nutrients, and the fish ate every morsel as soon as they chewed through his neck cavity. Only scarce remnants of flesh remained, and dangled from his bones. Milo's horrible death had brought much joy to other life forms. All anyone would have seen was his coat floating above water and the splashing the carnivore fish made. The currents drifted him down stream that winded within the dark expanse of this grim forest. Finally, a branch caught the coat, which left what was left of the lifeless Milo suspended in one spot while the fish continued to assure every opportunity to get some calories was met.Meanwhile, the others were unaware that their rescue attempts were slightly behind schedule. After running far ahead of the others, Ron stopped to gasp furiously in an effort to catch his breath. He waited for his friends while he continued to swoon from his extreme adrenaline rush. Ron stood with his hands on his knees and looked firmly in the direction he believed Milo had vanished. Fierce and timid eyes alike produced uncertainty in him as they peered from the darkness, and he began to shudder inside upon hearing Gary and Nick's cluttered conversation approaching."Are you trying to leave us, Ron?""Yeah! Goddamn, your running your ass off, and you ask for our help. Since you're running your ass off, why in the fuck you ain't run your ass off and find Milo?"The men were now all together, but Gary uttered immediately after Nick spoke, "There's no way he could have crossed this. How?" Gary questioned. "I'm sure he knew that.""Well let's go, he went this way along the stream." The three gentlemen followed the path in search of their missing comrade. Nick led the bunch, followed by Ron and Gary. Ironically, Nick walked ahead. It seemed Ron's enthusiasm had worn off, but they all called for Milo and fought the same rugged terrain. They were all pumped up now. Their hyperventilation was due to a sense of urgency to hear their comrade's voice. Ron was actually pumped for more than one reason, however — the other was Nick's constant mouth. He wasn't scared, and courage was all about him this very moment. Gary remained calm, but one thing was different about him. Forgetting to light a cigar usually didn't happen no matter what the emergency, but this occasion seemed to mark that as fair minimum."Milo!" Ron called out trying to avoid the response from Nick."Well, where did he go?""I don't know, man.""What do you mean, you don't know? Where did you last see him?""Ummm, I last saw him…" A bit of hesitation as to their location had set in and his pondering where they were at was evident. "Where I waited for you back there." Ron pointed in the direction of the spot where he had waited for them, when he first ran off ahead of Gary and Nick."You mean you didn't even go look for the man before you came running to us? At least you could have gotten some sense of direction. You see what I mean, Gary." Nick looked at Gary and shook his head in disgust. He pointed his flashlight downstream and began to observe while speaking, "I don't see much of shit. You think it's a good idea to split up."Gary pondered this possibility for a brief moment, and Ron helped by adding, "I don't' know if that's a good idea. I know Milo. He was looking to conquer this stream. Believe me, he stood close to the edge." Nick looked at Ron, and for once, he convinced them. The crew minus one stood together now and fought their way downstream. However, by this time, Ron was a little ways ahead of Nick and Gary. His confidence had been boosted by speaking his mind. He was determined, because without Milo, Nick was left to run all over poor old Ron. He searched with his flashlight, and he saw in the distance light water disturbances that produced a cause for urgency. He directed his flashlight in that direction. "Milo!" he hollered sharply. Then Ron noticed what appeared to be Milo's raincoat, who had been wearing it for the protection it offered from mosquitoes. It was complimented by a pair of yellow rain boots, and Ron noticed one over there by the tree stump, which initially caused him to sharpen his eyesight. "Hey, I found one of his boots. I told you! I told you! He must have fallen in," cried Ron.Nick pointed his flashlight in the direction of Ron's cries as they approached him. In the near distance Ron cried, "It looks like he's holding onto a branch or something. We've got to get him and pull him out." Ron squealed louder, waiting for Gary and Nick, "Milo! Milo! We're coming! Hold on!"Gary and Nick arrived at that very tree stump Milo once rested upon, and they immediately noticed bloodstains. This alarmed them and made them take Ron cries a little more seriously. Ron was just ahead and he continued to call out. His comrades heard, but they were awed at what they currently laid their eyes upon. Gary looked puzzled. "Why in the hell was he doing? I know he wasn't trying to cross here."Nick gazed at the curious setting and advised strongly, "Come on, let's find out what Ron's squealing about.""Hey guy's, over here! I think I found him. Look… over there." They all gathered around to focus in on the apparent presence of Milo, but before moments could pass, Ron blurted. "That doesn't look like splashing!""What is that?" Gary exclaimed while he squinted his eyes to fight the darkness."Oh shit man, I don't think he's holding on. I don't think he's holding on. Oh shit man, what is that?" Ron proceeded to try and reach for Milo."Get your hands back!" Nick shouted while pulling Ron back fast. "You wanna get your ass ate up, or at least bit up.""What!?""Don't what me, you see.""What the fuck," replied Ron with amazement coupled with exasperation. Gary said, "Oh man, those piranhas had a feast." Ron looked at Gary and Nick, and then glanced upon what was left of Milo before he started puking. "Oh no man, no man, shit! How could this happen?" cried Ron."Because you left his ass, dummy.""Hold on, Nick. Now leave him alone. Let's get the hell out of here.""We need to call that Richard mutha-fucka to get us the fuck out of here, or that pilot. Or whoever.""How do we get back?""See! See! I told you we shouldn't have let that pilot leave us.""Calm down Nick, just follow this same stream." The men ran back the way they came as best they could and hysteria ran rampant in the air. The entire way back, the men bickered continuously. although Gary spoke hardly at all, except for the few times he had to save Ron's neck from Nick's constant verbal abuse. In fact, Gary kept them on track to camp, because if not, Ron and Nick would probably have wandered off into the wilderness."Man, I don't believe this shit… You done let Milo fall in the water and get eaten by fish…," said Nick disappointedly. "I mean how and the hell can that happen?"Gary intervened with smooth comments. "Gentlemen, we need to remain focused. I believe just ahead is where we need to take that left path." They made their way closer to camp before Gary was the first to say, "Ron, didn't you have a cell phone. I know it's a long shot, but see if you can get a reception. Call that Richard guy."Ron reached for his phone and Nick asked, "Do you even have the number, a klutz like you." "Yes you jackass. It's in the phone. Now leave me the fuck alone.""Call him," exclaimed Gary. Ron searched for the number while complaining. "I'm not sure if we'll get a reception." He pressed the talk button and paced back and forth trying to get the clearest reception. "Here, I think I can hear OK." He stood over a patch in the forest where he could see the night sky and that was manageable. The phone rang and Ron stared for some reason away from the western flowing river, but towards the same jungle that had consumed Milo before. "Hello, this is Susan. How may I direct your call?""I need Richard!" Oh I'm sorry. The office is closed. You will have to call back during normal business hours." Ron stared into the eyes of something that concealed itself behind a tree that lay in the distance. It was dark, so his sights were dim, but what he could see was stunning and terrifying.He lost contact with the eyes when Nick snatched the phone from his clutched hands. "Give me that," he said abruptly! "What the fuck did they say, Ron? Hello, is anyone home? Earth to Ron. What the fuck did they say?" "I don't know man. I don't know," replied Ron with the panic evident in his voice."What do you mean, you don't know? What the fuck is wrong with you man? You look like you saw a ghost. Gary, man, get a hold of that young man." "What's the fucking number you dimwit." Nick proceeded to call the company after literally squeezing the numerals out of him. The phone rang again and Gary consoled Ron, trying hard to find out why he was in a daze."Hello this is Susan. How may I direct your call?""Yes, I need Richard.""I'm sorry, but…""This is an emergency, what do you mean I'm sorry," exclaimed Nick with agitation boiling in his voice. "What is his home number?""I'm sorry but that information in unavailable.""Is that all you are is sorry? What do you mean it's unavailable. I need someone immediately, and I can care less about how sorry you are.""Sir, listen! The office is closed. Would you like his voice mail?" "Look lady, there's been an accident. Who's in charge of this project in South America.""Oh, the project. One moment please." The operator transferred the call as soon as she realized who was on the other end."This is John! How can I help you?""Look John, is that your name?" A polite yes followed and Nick continued his yelling. "You need to get Richard on the phone, now!""Wait, who is this?""Nick, with Milo and Sons Contractors Inc. You know, we were hired for this jungle bullshit.""Oh yes sir. How's it going?""Not dandy, that's for damned sure. Look, I suggest you get us the fuck out of here. One of our men has been eaten alive. I hope you all don't want us to stay here and be done the same way. I think not. I think you muthafuckas are crazy if you expect that." A silence persisted after Nick had gotten the frustration off his chest. The sounds of the night time forest vibrated all around them. While Nick waited to be connected to Richard, Gary and Ron had a quite conversation between them. However, those eyes watched the gentlemen once again. There were now other eyes around other trees and the sounds of the jungle seemed amplified.CHAPTER NINEThere were chants and the sound of wood being struck echoing as if primitive instruments were being beaten upon. The scent of the mystical loomed in the air. Images of indigenous primitive dancers performed around an intense fire. These images began when they waited to be connected to Richard, and they flashed throughout the night. However, the men were unaware of these rituals being performed within the deep expanses of the unknown.This had been going on ever since the foreigners arrived with their selfish intentions. Every night this ritual was being performed—every night since Richard laid eyes upon one of the natives. This ritual required consumption of rare plants and mushrooms to invoke psychedelic effects and constructive hallucinations. Although the intruders could not hear it, the spirits were being called upon. No matter the reality, the sounds grew louder and the images flashed more intensely."Richard here!""Rich," Nick said, with impudence and exasperation in his voice."How dare you," exclaimed Richard.However, Nick paid little attention to the fact that his address had disgruntled the other man."Well Rich, how about you get your ass right here to South America and get us the fuck out of here. I hope you have your checkbook as well."Nick stood awaiting an answer, and the remaining members of his crew were paying full attention."Well, who am I speaking to first?""Fuck all that. You know who you brought down here. We don't have time for name games and all that bullshit. Man, my boss was just eaten, and you're lollygagging! What the fuck?""OK. OK, wait a minute! Did you say Mr. Evans?""Oh, now you know who we are.""What happened?""Just please get us the fuck out of here before we call the National Guard for rescue, and I'll tell them you left us out here stranded. Lawsuits up your ass.""Hold up, sir. There's no way I can get there tonight. The contract was for a minimum of two days. Besides, how do I know that this is not some prank call?"Nick failed to respond because the rage boiled so deeply and stymied any focus for his emotions, which were in a state of flux. He thought, I didn't want to be here, but somehow I had no choice.Gary was paying complete attention to this conversation, but Ron glanced off periodically to notice those eyes again. He tried not to look, but something compelled him to do so. He wanted to avoid staring directly into those eyes, but the tendency to look was too strong. He fought hard by looking in different spots, only to notice there was no escape because they were all around. His awareness had veered away from Nick's verbal assault on Richard.Just before alerting the others, he looked in one direction and noticed eyes that didn't look like the others. These were even spookier and remained in one particular spot longer than the others. The darkness in combination with thick masses of trees made seeing clearly nearly impossible. These eyes that now had Ron's full attention were even more still and shined more brilliantly."Hey fellows, I think we're being watched."Gary redirected his attention from Nick's conversation to Ron. "What's up, Ron?""I think someone is watching us! Look! Those eyes!"Ron pointed at the mysterious eyes watching them, and Gary took heed when he too noticed the sharply cut eyes.Nick saw that his companions were staring and said, "What are you all looking at?"He approached their position to try to get an equal view to his comrades, but his sight was not as keen. "What do y'all see?"The men didn't reply but remained focused on the hypnotizing eyes. Nick reached for his flashlight, simultaneously flicking the switch and pointing the beam of light directly at the eyes in a smooth motion. This startled the eyes, and the sound of a crackling roar followed by a suspended hiss came from directly in front of them. The eyes darted towards the gentlemen.Like a stalker in the night and a keen predator, the jaguar chased the men like it had cubs to feed.Ron blurted, "Oh shit, a lion.""I don't think lions are in this part of the world," exclaimed Gary, standing there still.Nick had jetted before any conversation, and Ron followed before Gary could get the last words out. Nick darted faster than a track star getting out of the blocks and had a few meters on Ron. The wild slick cat was in hot pursuit, while Gary stood in the same spot and watched the cat and mouse game unfold. The two headed towards the woods instinctively, and it was unclear who exactly the cat had his eyes on.Tree branches and limbs crackled from the panic in Nick and Ron's decampment. The cat's movements were silent and stealth itself, the creature gracefully fast. They probably intended to stay together when they first scampered off, but instincts proved Ron and Nick had different fates. Ron seemed to be slightly quicker, for his fear propelled him considerably. They began to drift apart like a 'V'—and definitely not a straight one. The jungle brush made it difficult to work their way ahead, and this hungry animal closed fast.Gary was amazed that brief moment he viewed his colleagues' escapade. He had even stood there moments after they were out of sight, his eyes staring into the night. Paralyzed for just a moment, he darted for camp with severe clumsiness. He hadn't smoked a cigar, and this was the longest he had gone in a while.Desperately arriving at the camp, he began immediately to fumble with the radio. Static fuzzed from his constant attempts to establish a frequency."Please come in! This is Gary needing rescue assistance. I am transmitting from 61 degrees latitude and 15 degrees longitude, please respond. If anyone can hear me, I beg that you please respond."Gary's breath was ragged and he was raving into the headset. He then attempted other frequencies, not realizing the radio was already set."Do you read me, please come in. This is a distress call!"This was repeated constantly before hearing Captain Briscoe.Meanwhile, Ron and Nick's fate was just about to be decided. Their voices echoed in terror. Not really sure of where to run, Nick had chosen a tree to climb. This seemed silly initially, since cats have no problem in that department. However, the cat didn't chase after him—it decided to pursue Ron.Nick looked down with breath gasping enormously from mouth and nostrils, clinging tightly to the lower branches of a winding tree."Oh shit man, run! Run! Run!" Nick yelled louder and louder until his breath now had control over the volume of his vocals.Ron didn't need his advice one bit, nor did the wild and arcane feline, which was closing fast. The two played a brief zigzag game. Ron tried to evade the fierce cat's agility by ducking, dodging, and running with all his might. Despite his efforts, the cat continued to close on him rapidly. He used the bushes to weave through, hoping to compensate for his predator's superior quickness. That didn't help, because the cat sliced through the jungle, proving it was at home and Ron was not.Nick had remained in his tree, shattered with disbelief, and he showed no signs of coming down."Captain Briscoe responding to the stress signal transmitted on delta/gamma frequency, copy!""Hello! Hello! Captain, please, we need rescuing!""What seems to be the problem... copy.""One of our crew members is dead, and we're being chased by wild animals.""Is this the crew I flew to the site?""Yes, you dimwit.""Well, if you would have said who it was.""Just get here in a hurry!"Gary spoke his last words as if that is exactly what they were.Captain Briscoe immediately reported in to show his loyalty to Richard. "This is Captain Briscoe, assigned to project Rainforest.""John here.""I have a distress call from your crew.""Are you still communicating with them?""I have them on delta/gamma frequency.""Keep them calm. I need to get Richard on line.""This is Briscoe. Crew, are you still transmitting?"Gary did not answer because he had just departed with some sort of manmade weapon carved out of leftover material from building the camp. He was going on a mission to help his comrades."Do you read me? Crew, please respond."Gary had forgotten something of importance and heard the incoming transmission accidentally as he returned to the camp. "Yes, this is Gary. Are you fucks on your way?"By this time Richard had been patched in for the conference call. "What's the problem?""Look, you all have dropped us off in the middle of nowhere, basically unprepared. Shit, if I would have known, I would have brought my goddamn rifles. Shit, I did know, but this was such a rush I didn't have time to bring 'em, but I'll be goddamned!""OK, OK, tell me what happened.""I really don't have time to tell you a story. You better get here ASAP. I need to go and find the other surviving crew members."Gary turned away from the radio, but he then turned and stared at it as if it were responsible for their delayed rescue. He reached for a cigar with one hand and had a weapon clutched in the other, and then he darted off to find where his friends and co-workers could be.Gary's demeanor resembled Milo's when he was trying to conquer the stream. It was also similar in the sense that the adrenaline level was a hindering factor. Not to mention the fact he didn't know where to start searching. All he knew was the general vicinity where the chase initiated. They scattered so quickly, and it all happened so fast, that it was tough to know which direction to take.Somewhere in the middle is what he was thinking, following the river until he reached the spot where the cat first lashed out.He spoke to himself aloud, "Just follow along that path. I should find something. If I turn my back towards the river and search directly in front of me, I should run into Nick or Ron."He proceeded with vigor.Ron now grew silent, and the only sounds that came from his direction were his feet clashing with brush. A pure rush of adrenaline fueled his movements, which also gave Ron the ability to survive one more thing. He made a sharp cut and tumbled down an abrupt incline. The bruises and dirt accumulation went unnoticed—he seemed immune to the pain because his life was more important.After getting up, he quickly resumed running, Ron's fear pulsating in an invisible aura around him. He could feel the eagerness reverberating in the cat's eyes, and then he could hear the roars. Ron's next step was vital because it not only sealed his fate but rearranged it totally.The bushes crackled, so did the leaves, and the brush that was pushed aside. A deep and desperate southern accent cried out."Nick!"A pause followed, but the night was far from silent because the forest was filled with creepy sounds. It was pitch black by this time, and Gary only had a simple lighting utensil.Another cry uttered from Gary's mouth. "Ron."Panic loomed in Gary's mind, but he struggled to keep it under control. Lighting a cigar, he stood there wondering if he should continue to go straight ahead. Puffing rigorously to assure it was lit, he felt a sudden calm from the initial inhalation. He walked forward like a soldier experiencing guerrilla warfare.Little did Gary know, the spirits of the forest were literally his counterparts in some ritualistic battle. The chants didn't stop. In fact, they got louder and eyes pierced throughout the forest. Gary penetrated deeper, looking very hard while calling out for his colleagues.Deep sounds of bass echoed from some primitive instruments within the forest and slowly became noticeable to Gary's ears. The harmonic thumps caused curiosity in Gary's mind and began to severely distort it. He now veered off a little from the task of finding Ron and Nick, but instead opted to investigate the sounds that intrigued him.It required splendid effort to cut through the brush, and darkness was not an ally. Sweat poured, and he probably burned a few pounds in his efforts. His breath was also depleted to the point that he discarded his cigar gratefully. Ascending a slight slope was partial cause for his lack of respiration, not to mention his obesity.Tired from the sudden trek, he yelled, "Shit!" Deciding to sit down near a tree that sat at the top of this slope, he received an unexpected view in some uncharted section of the jungle. He tried to regain his breath in huge heaps.Gary rolled over on his stiff stomach, which resembled a sturdy blubber pad. The mist was heavy, and his eyes struggled to see through it. The thick jungle brush also played a tag team partner in his vision impairments. If only his hearing senses were impaired, because the sounds of owls, unidentifiable insects, and other miscellaneous creatures were enough to make him crazy. The thumps also got louder and chants were now becoming recognizable.Gary's breath had finally achieved equilibrium, and the mist drifted apart just a bit. The right breeze helped in the manipulation of the mist and made it manageable in eyesight terms. However, the view was little and required that he squint, confirming that the breeze did a lousy job. Nevertheless, he began to focus just a little, and he noticed darkness all around him.His pupils dilated severely as he adjusted to the simple light at an angle. The dark patch began to become a little clearer, as he noticed a huge tree that was larger than any in the immediate forest. He even looked up at the tree next to him and thought, Wow! There were huge trees virtually everywhere, but he refocused on this one because it had an attractive aurora that captured anyone who looked too long.He stared at it, and the dark area became clearer. He noticed people, and he thought of Ron and Nick, but he knew it couldn't be his friends he was seeing. The tree's magnetism, and maybe even some telepathic essence, stunned Gary and left him speechless. All he could do was look, and it was strange that these people were all black people, or no! He realized they looked like Indians. This conclusion was drawn from the programming of a child, when cowboys and Indians were the main theme in his culture.These people with paint on their faces, wild briefs, and tattoos fit that very description. They were doing exactly what the childhood hoopla portrayed—dancing around that same gigantic tree with primitive instruments, chanting something harmonically that was undecipherable. There was also a spiritual essence that got stronger, and so did Gary's eyesight. The chants and praises seemed to pulsate vibrantly and helped him overcome his visual constraints. He tried to think about Ron, but his thoughts were vague.In fact, at that very moment, Ron was making that step to the left to avoid being razored with claws, but where he stepped was a soft spot that soon collapsed. A screeching shout escaped from Ron's mouth as the ground beneath him gave way. The fall wasn't long, but it wasn't easy to get grip to pull oneself up. Realizing he had fallen in some kind of hole, panic raged in his efforts to raise himself out. Grunts and groans were the sum of his attempts until he thought he needed to settle down. He figured that he shouldn't be hasty anyway and climb into the paws of a hungry feline.Ron leaned up against the dirt walls of the hole that captured him. Covered in grime, his fears convinced him he was doomed."Help! Help!" screamed Ron to the top of his lungs.Not only was this a hole, it was also a home, but Ron was just finding that out. He noticed huge red spots darting across his shoes and ankles at great speeds. The red spots Ron observed also had darker red spots on them. There were so many now."Oh shit!"Panic and fright filled Ron's soul as hundreds and hundreds crawled all over his body, and they bit hard. Hundreds of thousands of bites from head to toe is what Ron experienced, and it wasn't pleasant. He must have jumped, skipped, and danced all over the tiny space trying to run, climb, and pull himself up, but to no avail. He screamed and raged in agony."Ahh shaaaahhhhhtttt... Shit! Help! Oh my God, please, please. Get them off me, ahhh!!!"This yelling should have been heard throughout the forest, because the small bites came by the hundreds. He must have slapped, punched, and clawed himself to misery because of the little critters. He even tried to scrape them off frantically, but that didn't help because he was caved into a nest. Hundreds even thousands overlapped his body entirely. They bit and bit until they eventually caused him to faint.He was now unconscious and being eaten alive slowly but surely, their bites and stings seeping slowly into his bloodstream. Ultimately, the toxins were the cause of his fainting, but the rest was taken care of by their enormous appetites. A body this huge would take a while, but that didn't matter. They were accustomed to working hard to stockpile enough food for the harsh seasons. Besides, there was a queen to look after, and this was enough to feed their nest for many seasons to come.Ron now had an out-of-body experience, drifting about the forest to never return to his tomb to officially die, but instead to loom forever, trapped with the spirits of the forest. The ants sure didn't mind one bit.The strength in the chants grew and the essence of the forest seemed to need feeding. Gary was another possible meal as he stood entranced by that stunning tree. He still stared at it vigorously, even though naked men danced around this very object. The focus he maintained became eerie, and images pulsated in Gary's mind. The forest sounds began to mute and the chants and praises were heard only as background noise. There was a connection between the huge tree and the one he was standing under.Suddenly, all sounds muted entirely. The focus on the tree before him grew stronger, and the only sound he noticed was a crackling, which was very loud, since it appeared to be the only sound that penetrated Gary's zone. It was the branch above him snapping and descending with full force. The rapid descent in combination with the branch's mass crushed Gary's back. It squeezed the life out of him.CHAPTER TENIt was near dawn and things had subsided. There was one rule even the bad spirits adhered to, and that was no foul play while in the presence of the King, the Amazonian sun—Your Majesty was due and the mist turned into morning dew. The breeze blew pleasantly as if this were paradise. The birds chirped pleasant tunes and whistles, and even the frogs croaking had a good sensation.Near camp, the sound of helicopter blades twirling through the beauty of the natural sounds could be heard. They landed the best they could, and with no delay, Richard and Briscoe jumped out."This is where the crew should be."Richard scanned the immediate area while standing in one place before replying, "Yeah, I know! This is where I instructed them to build a work station. Let's check over there."After pointing his hands in the direction of the camp, Richard led the way."It sure gets hot early here.""Yes, so I see. The sun wastes no time in this part of the world."Richard arrived at the camp an instant before Captain Briscoe, but lingered on while the Captain looked inside Gary and Nick's hasty creation."Hello," Briscoe said timidly, as he arched his head around to peek through the entrance. The echo was vaguely clear, but it was also clear the room was empty. "Hello, I'm responding to your stress call."His boots clattered against the frail floor as a search of every square inch was performed. "There is no one in here. Who are we expecting, the same gentlemen I transported, correct!?"Richard looked as if he didn't want to talk about it and blatantly ignored him. Richard continued to walk forward, paying the questioner no attention."Hey excuse me." Briscoe blurted in a real effort to break Richard's silence. He stood there, hand on chin with his elbow rested upon the arm folded beneath, and refused to take another step.Richard did not let that stop him and he carried on, looking around but not appearing to be searching for the missing party—just browsing casually. You could only imagine what was in his mind at this point, especially if judged by the way he looked around. Traveling far off from Briscoe, he remained in an up, down, left, right, scan pattern that seemed systematic. Richard was indeed keenly aware of certain dangers, because he walked in a specific pattern so as to easily trail back. It was almost as if he felt his way around, and this was just the beginning.Richard wasn't trained in safari ordeals, and he was an amateur when it came to natural habitats. The fact that he walked through the forest without fear seemed strange, but maybe the sun was out and vision was sufficient, giving him that courage."Hey! Hey! What the hell are you doing up there? What are you doing here?"He stretched himself for a better view of the man in the tree, only to realize he was partly asleep. There was no other choice but to climb up."OK! Let me see! I probably can, nah! I should hmm... If I can just."His mumbling and muttering went on, but soon he began to dart his way up the tree. He propped himself on the same branch and scooted his way over to make contact with the slouched-over Nick. Richard placed his hands upon Nick's shoulder and spoke softly, "Hey, excuse me!" while shaking him softly but assuring not to stop his utterances. "Sir, wake up! Wake up!"His requests became louder, sharper, and even the hand-shoulder relationship got rocky. "Hey! Wake up," he said softly but with a sense of aggravation."Oh shit!" shouted Nick in an amazing effort to hold on to the branch. The assaults on his sleeping had nearly startled Nick to an uncomfortable fall. Both men experienced unsteadiness, grabbing each other's shoulders to try to maintain a sudden interruption of their balance. That attempt failed, however, and Richard and Nick plummeted to the ground.Richard ended up slightly on top of Nick after the fall and caused temporary damage to his leg. Nick yelled at the top of his lungs, "Shit! What the fuck is going on? I! Hold up... it's about time. Damn, where are the others, we need to find them. Oh... Oh... shit!"The pain from Nick's leg pulsated and caused agony to the third degree, which caused unclear thinking mixed with the trauma of the night before."Hey, calm down. Nick, that's your name right. I need to get you back to the helicopter—you're injured."Nick's mood did not get much better after those seemingly sincere comments. "Have you found my friends? Oh shit... Milo! He's fucking dead, oh no!"Richard watched Nick descend into sorrow and was curious as to why, but he refrained from asking for details. "We haven't found your friend yet, because you are the first one we have run into. I will send a search crew.""Good! I'll lead them.""No, I'm getting you out of here. You're in no condition to be searching for anyone.""No, fuck that! Look, I lost my boss, man. I won't listen to the shit you're talking. Matter of fact, you better have your checkbook ready, because you owe four gentlemen major bread. If I don't leave here with something, for all this bullshit I done been through, shit, I'll have the National Guard out here. This is the perfect story for a book, with the sinister character's name slandered all in the mud, so don't fucking play with me.""Calm down, Nick! Listen, I just have to get you safely back home. I assure you that all of your finances will be taken care of."Nick continued his raving, but he was a bit calmer after Richard's guarantee of compensation. The men followed the path Richard had set out before and made it back fairly quickly. Briscoe had stood in the same spot, but now squinched over watching the ants crawl and other miscellaneous creatures linger about. He instantly stood upright when becoming aware of someone slouched over Richard for assistance."Help me get him in the helicopter."Briscoe opened the door and allowed them to use his hand as leverage. They slumped Nick in ruggedly and proceeded to secure themselves. Briscoe commanded the helicopter to lift off.Richard's eyes were the reflection of patience running thin as he glanced upon the white fluffy clouds above them. "What happened?" Richard exclaimed, while turning his full attention to the answerer.Nick looked at him, his eyes emotionless, and he remained quiet.Briscoe looked at Richard after giving Nick a strange gaze. "If I would have known this was loud mouth here, I might not have answered that radio."That got both of the men's attention."Fuck you! What the hell, who is this guy?"Richard sat back and looked at Briscoe, wondering why in hell he made that comment."First of all, you muthafuckas are crazy. I know you wouldn't have left me out here, and you better not leave my friends out here. Milo's already dead, if anyone else is..." Nick paused as if he had to hold back any soggy emotions because he was a man. "You all won't hear the last of old Nick."A silence loomed for a brief moment."Wait a minute. There's more people back there, and someone's dead?" declared Briscoe with disbelief. "I assumed the others were already gone. I only spoke to one person on the radio, but... I think he did mention someone, or he had to find somebody.""Yeah, you must have spoken to Ron or Gary, and matter of fact, it was Gary. It had to be, because me and Ron had to make a break for it.""A break for it?""Yeah, a lion or something attacked us.""No, it wasn't a lion. It had to be a jaguar, or something.""Well, whatever the fuck he was, he was trying to eat us. I don't know if it got Ron, oh no."Richard blurted sympathetically, "Calm down, Nick. Calm down. We will find your friends."Briscoe still wasn't through with all of his inquiries. "Well what happened to your friend Milo?""I don't know, man. It's strange.""What do you mean you don't know?""Look! All I know is Ron and Milo were establishing dimensions of the site, and he mysteriously fell into a stream.""So he drowned?""No, not quite. He got eaten by piranhas. Don't ask me how it happened, because it's beside me."Nick stood there looking ignorant, as someone trying to reason with logic itself. Stupefied by his own gestures, he listened in that same manner."You don't think your friend Ron might have pushed him in."Nick snapped out of his condition and initiated his normally defensive attitude. "What the... that's idiotic. That couldn't happen. Ron couldn't push anyone in any way. I don't care if he sneaks up from behind, he still wouldn't succeed."Nick began to find brief humor in Briscoe's acquisitions, but he remained defensive. "So, Rich. Are you going to call the police?"Richard snapped, "What police? Forget the police. We're all the way in South America.""I tell you what then, I'm calling the National Guard.""Look, I have a friend high up in the FBI, and I'll pay him to get a scout troop," said Richard."Yeah, and you better pay me, or like I say, I'll have the National Guard out here. I'm sure the media would love a story like this. A greedy businessman stranding his workers to perish in the deep expanse of the jungle. As a matter of fact, don't find my friends and I'll have a lawsuit so far up your ass you start shitting me money. Turds of thousand-dollar bills, muthafucka."Rich's face grew red, but he remained calm as he noticed Briscoe's gestures appearing to favor Nick's arguments. "All right now, we have a long plane flight ahead of us, so no need for the bickering."Everyone was tired, so they pretty much remained silent the entire flight. Briscoe remained in South America, at the tower where he was stationed. Nick and Rich were a third of the way home, and that's where they wanted to be—short of being all the way home. It was late afternoon and approaching evening, and their wives were waiting. However, the hospital would intercept Nick to take care of his dehydration and busted leg.Meanwhile, Mrs. Dickenson had dinner prepared and even nurtured the little one until she retreated to her room to indulge in computer games.Mrs. Geshy was trembling from the constant accusations from her mom. "Goddamn it, I knew that muthafucka would waltz up and leave. Oh dear... Is there anything I can do, just ask."A simple cry issued from Mrs. Geshy's mouth, then she said, "No matter, hey I'm fine... I'll call you back."Claira seemed stunned, locked in a meditative glare, but her thoughts were extraordinarily intense, as indicated by her swollen and throbbing temple. Sweat ran down her face. Fire is what was actually going on inside her, because she felt she was in control of the relationship, and it would have been her to leave him. The fact that he up and split was out of the question, and with that notion she picked up the phone."Precinct seventeen. Detective Andrews speaking.""Yes, I would like to report a missing person."The detective knew there were tears when he heard the soft cries pour from Claira's lips. "Ma'am, what is your name?""I'm sorry! My name is Claira Geshy.""Let me transfer you to missing persons, one moment please."Claira continued crying while waiting for someone to respond."Hello! Mrs. Geshy, this is Lieutenant Harrington. I would like to ask you a few questions. First, who are you reporting missing?""Joe Geshy, my husband.""When was the last time you saw your husband?""Oh dear, he was supposed to go on a trip to South America several days ago, and I haven't heard from him.""Well, have you and your husband been going through any problems."Claira replied defensively, "No!""Well, what business did he have in South America?""He was to go with a friend, and as a matter of fact, I talked to the wife of my husband's friend, Mrs. Dickenson. She said they haven't heard from them.""I take it that you all were friends.""Yes, but look! My husband was happy with his relationship at home.""I'm not disputing that, Mrs. Geshy. It's just that...""Look Lieutenant, all I'm asking is for you to look into it.""I'll do what I can Mrs. Geshy."The phone hung up abruptly and Claira sat there crying, for her life was now in shambles, with no explanations as to why. Liquid overflowed the rim of her eyelids triggering a waterfall effect. She asked herself over and over, why? She questioned her confidence and started wondering about what her mom said. The questions agitated her: Did something terrible happen, or did he really leave?"No, he didn't leave! Something terrible has happened." Her tears increased like developing cumulonimbus, and sadness soaked in.Harrington had a sneer lingering on his face that captured the attention of his team members. "Who was that?" exclaimed Rick Powers."Oh that was some broad crying about her husband leaving her.""Yeah," said Rick, "I mean, what do they want us to do? I mean, there's nothing we can tell the husbands, you know. What do we say? Hey come back to your wife? You vowed until death do us part when you married the silly heffa."Rick's colleagues found tremendous humor in the subject. He even provoked a few laughs from his fellow officers. Rick's direct supervisor, Lieutenant Harrington, was also finding humor in his comments, but he responded ironically. "Since you find so much humor in this matter, I'm assigning you to the case. I know you understand we still have a duty to our civilians."Immediate discomfort filled Rick when assigned to what he thought was a repugnant case. He glanced at the address Steve displayed. "These people must be well off to live in this district. What do these people supposedly know?""Well Rick, that is what you are to find out. Mrs. Geshy said he was to make a trip with Mr. Dickenson, but they claimed the trip never materialized.""Well why didn't it?""The guy never showed up. Hey, I'm not telling you to be Sherlock Holmes. Just get over there and question them, so we may get the report concluded."Rick sipped his coffee and looked like, Oh well, another day, another dollar.Exiting the precinct building, Rick caught a discomforting glare from the late afternoon sun. However, that did not stop him from executing his duties. That same glare also indicated Rich and Nick were just about home. They had not broken their silence because the bickering, trauma, and shock created deep exhaustion.Nick was hurt a little, but getting paid was always revitalizing. He also knew to use that as leverage, if he told before he could get flimflammed. Nick just stared at Rich, and that stare intensified by the moment. The thought of his plans had to be just as intense. Nick had not decided who he would tell yet, but he knew he probably would tell someone as soon as he was paid.Richard sat in front of Nick and stared steadfastly into his own world, unaware of the plot the other man was conjuring. Flashes overwhelmingly consumed him. He gazed and gazed, and tried to wait patiently the rest of the flight. Only about forty-five minutes remained before arriving home, but this was not soon enough. He shifted constantly in his seat from the violently flickering thoughts that assaulted his brain: images of Joe and what happened to his workers. He also had images of his wife, and that caused him to dismiss his friend's death as purely accidental, to tell himself that everything would turn out fine.Thinking of her helped soothe the stress that was growing significantly. There must have been some type of mental connection, because as he thought of her, she thought of him as well. As she tended to the pots that brewed on the stove, his presence filled her thoughts and created eagerness in her cooking.Susan was actually upset with her husband, but she really missed him and waited impatiently for him to arrive. It was now less than thirty minutes before his arrival, and everything was about done. She sat down and began to read her book, while periodically glancing at their home's entrance hoping he would burst through the door. An extremely anxious demeanor was reflected in every grunt and gesture. It was not that something was extremely wrong. She just missed her loved one a lot.It was not that he was ever gone long, but he was gone frequently. Jealousy soaked in her consciousness like liquid into a sponge, and she knew this silly project assured a good reason for her envy. She tried to find comfort in dozing off on her cream velvet sofa in her casual living room, the one hardly anyone sat on. Moments after she set her drink on the luscious glass of the cast iron end table, it was half gone and half watered down. She wasn't totally asleep because she took sips periodically. The brief sleep she did get was thin in substance, and any little sound would awake her.A sudden exclamation blurted from Susan's mouth. "Oh shit!"Partly startled, she awakened not really sure what the cause was. She looked around like surprise filled her eyes. Redness also filled her eyes from the brief respite she did get. The bell on her door rang loudly once again, and she finally realized what had awakened her. Wonder drifted upon her face as she pondered who could be at the door.Approaching the door slowly, curiosity loomed in her head. She wasn't convinced her husband had returned, but she didn't know if his flight had arrived early or not. One thing she did know was that he wouldn't be ringing the doorbell. Gathering herself together, she made her way for the door. Hayword had already screened the guest, so there was no effort to ask who it was. The fact that they rang proved it wasn't her husband.Shock waves rippled across her face when she stared at a stranger on the other side of her huge oak doors. The man stood there briefly without saying anything."May I help you," exclaimed Susan."Yes ma'am. I'm detective Rick Powers!" he said, showing his badge briskly. "I am responding to a missing person's claim. I will need to ask you and your husband a few questions. Is it OK for me to come in?"Susan was still groggy from her short sleep but managed to say, "Sure!" This visit was truly unexpected, and she tried to figure out why the visit was taking place. "Here, sit down... Did you say Detective Powers? So, what missing person are you speaking of, and what does this have to do with us.""Well, Mrs. Dickenson! It may not have anything to do with you, but we just want to make sure we gather all the information that we can.""Yes, yes. Sure! Would you like some tea or coffee?""Sure, coffee please."He sat down and skimmed through his notes, while she fixed him a hot cup of coffee. Returning with two steaming hot cups, placing his next to him while hers remained in her hand. She preferred to sip her tea while it was scorching hot."So, who's missing?" Susan asked."Well, we received a call from Mrs. Geshy, and she indicated that her husband was to accompany your husband on a trip to South America."Susan's eyes lit up in disbelief. "Like I told her when she called me, Joey was supposed to meet my husband, but never showed.""OK, so when was the last time you saw him?""To be honest with you, I can't remember. My husband offered to take him on this trip and he never showed for the flight.""How long have you known the Geshys?""Oh, it's been years.""Were they having any problems?""Claira did talk once about leaving him, but that was years ago. I figured they had worked things out.""OK Mrs. Dickenson, you have been a big help."Rick rose, leaving his half-empty coffee cup on the table, and shook Susan's hand to show his appreciation. "Oh, by the way, where is your husband?""He's out of town.""In South America, I presume. What's going on in South America?""He is working on a land development project.""OK! That's all I need. You've been a great help."He shook her hand again and made his way to the door quickly. Closing the door behind him, she thought that something appeared strange, but she dismissed it casually as her imagination. Suddenly in panic, she is reminded of the cake she was baking when she fell asleep.CHAPTER ELEVENThe plane descended and Richard had an escort waiting for them. He helped Nick limp off the plane and they exited eagerly. Neither of the men had bags to unload, so they quickly debarked and jumped into the escort vehicle. Nick moaned and groaned from his aching body, which made Rich grow more concerned about his mouth."Look Nick, I'll take you to my doctor. The best in the business. I'll take care of you man, and your friends will be OK as well. As soon as I get you cared for, I will send a group of people to recover your friends. Whether they're dead or alive.""What do you mean dead? They better not, I...""No, no I said that because of Milo. Look, I didn't want this. Milo has done much work for me. He was a good man. Everything will be fine. You see, we are home—you're home!"Nick looked at Richard with pain and discomfort, but not just solely from his injuries. "That's fine and dandy, but you put me through hell. I expect to be compensated accordingly. If my friends end up like Milo, I know something!""Everything will be OK. I'm sure they got lost briefly and now have found their way back.""Lost in that jungle means doom because of all that wild shit roaming around."The two gentlemen arrived at the hospital's emergency room and wasted no time entering. Richard walked to the service desk and immediately requested his doctor. He was well known, because even the healthcare assistant knew him, and she quickly adhered to his request.While waiting for the doctor, Richard secluded Nick in the corner of the hospital and said, "Nick, here!" Richard had previously pulled out his checkbook and began to write fast. "This is compensation for the job, for you and your comrades."He handed Nick the check and watched his eyes glow significantly. "Nick! I know this is perilous times, but all I ask is you to be quiet and allow me to handle this tragedy. I have all the sympathy in the world, but the man that I am, someone's probably waiting to use this ordeal to beef up their careers and..."Nick interrupted with slickness, "You mean to tell me people are dead and missing and you're worried about your reputation—this is unbelievable. Is this a bribe or something?""Wait a minute. This is not a bribe! That check is for services rendered, and maybe a trip for hard labor.""Hard labor, huh..."Nick was flabbergasted, but he couldn't help but be amazed at the amount of money he had in his hands."All I am saying is I can do the job. As you can see, I have enough money to pay anyone to find your friends. I just need to keep this private."Nick eased back and looked hard at Richard. "I don't know, man. This shit is crazy. There is something eerie about that jungle. Now if I accept this, then I'm gonna be 'noid', because I got this shit on my conscience. I don't know, man?"Nick continued to shake his head negatively.Richard reached for his check and uttered, "Well just hand me that back and you do as you will."Nick jerked his hand back swiftly and refused to give his check back. He looked at the check, and the realization of nearly a half million dollars made Nick blurt, "You better find my friends, or you haven't heard the last of me."The men stared each other down like cowboys in a draw to the death.Richard replied, "I thought you would see it my way." He walked towards the approaching doctor. "Hello Mr. Dickenson, what can I do for you?""My worker has been injured.""What is wrong with him?""Doc, I believe delusions and dehydration, and possibly hyperventilation.""How did this happen?""In the forest.""Forest?!""Well, actually in the jungle. I am building a shipyard."Richard grabbed the doctor and spoke to him now with a whisper, assuring Nick couldn't hear. "Doc, you know! Fix him up permanently.""Sure, I'll take care of you."Richard gave his doctor the special cue and waited for a confirmation."Mr. Dickenson, consider your problem eliminated."A smile flashed on the doctor's face, as he knew this was a big task and lucrative opportunities were available.Richard walked past Nick again before exiting, declaring softly, "If you speak of anything, especially to the authorities, I'm calling that in as a forgery."He continued to walk gracefully out the door. The doctor proceeded to introduce himself to Nick, who wasn't very responsive. All he could think about was getting the check transformed into cash."This way sir! Go into that room and wait for the nurse. She will need to get a few readings. I'll be with you shortly."The doctor closed the door and the room was coldly silent and extremely bright. Nick thought about his bank, that it was a twenty-four hour banking center, and that he should make a late deposit drop. If this man is rich like he says he is, then the funds should be available soon, maybe even by 2 pm tomorrow. He literally licked his chops, and his thoughts of his crew dimmed, but thoughts of his future surely lit up.The doctor had put together a special mixture as commanded by Richard, for which he knew he would be paid handsomely. A pale, cold, and cunning look supplemented his actions, as he prepared himself to convince Nick this was the medication he needed. The doctor walked out of his preparation room connecting his needle and testing the injection device in full stride—he was eager to get this done.Nick was unaware of his fate, as the doctor planned to play a grandiose part in it. The fact that the money was on Nick's mind probably played a role in his ignorance. He couldn't contest the doctor; besides, doctors were to be trusted with one's health.The doctor entered Nick's room and noticed he was gone. Just moments before, he got up and walked out the door and down the hall. Nick exited the hospital without treatment, and his fate was still undecided. He called his fiancée collect and told her it was an emergency."Hey baby, I need you to meet me at the downtown bank. I can't answer any questions, just do it."He hung up the phone and sprinted down the busy downtown streets. Nothing would stop Nick from getting this done, and all he had to do was wait until tomorrow to get the money. He had treated this like a bank robbery, and the next step was to launder the money.His fiancée pulled up in what instantly became the getaway vehicle."Let's go!" Nick declared with sweat pouring down his face, and the smell of a bum was the dominant aroma. Nick was clearly in a rush and his fiancée couldn't help but say, "What the fuck is wrong with you?""Just drive!""What is wrong, Nick. You look like shit, and where the fuck have you been? I know, some project, you claim, but that wasn't due to be over until two more days, and pee-uuu... smelling like that. What, some bitch got you drunk and made you sleep on their back porch, and her dog pissed on you. Maybe even shit on you, I don't know. I can't even identify the smells on your ass. Not only did the dog get your ass, but it smells like..."Nick sharply interrupted, "Man...!" Slightly dragging the word out, and then with a bit of sarcasm, he continued, "We rich! Shut your ass up and drive!"An ignorant look loomed across Tameka's face. "What! What have you done?" Looking at Nick, she suspiciously yelled, "Nick!?""What? Look, I don't want to talk about it. I'll talk to you about it later—just drive. Get me home safely, will ya, please!? That's all I'm asking. How about saving the interrogation for later. I just want to get home, baby, I didn't know if I would even see you again, baby! I just want to get home."He slouched his seat back as far as it would allow, and laid himself back to rest. Tameka was boiling to know what was going on but didn't make a sound. The car was the only thing heard: the bumps, the grazing winds, and other miscellaneous sounds from the car's interaction with the natural elements. They did have a peaceful ride home.Richard walked through the door to find his wife asleep on the sofa. He walked past her and into the kitchen. He noticed dinner but could not summon an appetite. The only thing he wanted to do was to sit and relax, and that is exactly what he did. As soon as he was through diving on the den sofa, he began to switch stations with the remote. He wasn't interested in anything he saw and pressed the buttons carelessly. Finally, the station remained on some sports news network, where he glanced at some football report, but the relaxation of his gaze caused him to slowly lose hold of the remote.His mind pondered many things as to what went wrong. Joe was the first thing, but now he had more to think about. The images of what happened in his mind were only fragmentary, and this restricted him from accurately ascertaining what exactly happened to Joe. Then he caught a glimpse of his survey crew's job undone, and he knew he needed to go back immediately, but time was not in his favor. These thoughts gloomed through his head as the television became an annoyance, but he remained locked to the sofa.He noticed soothing hands begin to caress his chest, but he swiped them away abruptly. "I don't feel like being bothered."Susan's drunken condition made for a slurred reply. "Fuck you!"She walked off as Rich returned to his meditative agony. Then he heard a soft cry uttered. "Daddy, are you watching this?"He was hesitant to answer, and so his daughter slipped the remote from his loose grip. She began flipping through channels as her father began to notice, "What does my Boo want to watch?""Ohh Daddy, snakes!"Home box office had a presentation of a bounty hunt on a huge mythical anaconda, and the excitement the actors presented on screen from chasing and being chased by this huge snake brought amazement to little Dainisa's eyes. Father and daughter continued to watch the movie with intrigue. Richard had inner thanks for his daughter's rescuing him from his dark thoughts.The movie was winding down to the near end, and the surviving actors floated on a river winding through the thick jungle. In their sight now stood a group of indigenous peoples of the jungle who had never before been confronted by or communicated with outsiders. They stared in awe at the surviving actors.Richard stared in awe, and then he jumped up and darted for the phone. Anxiousness controlled him as he tried not to fumble with the phone receiver. Eagerness was his foe, because he had to repeat the dialing process due to his shaking fingers striking the wrong buttons.The phone rang! "Hello, Julian! This is Richard!""Oh, hello Richard, you sound so hyper.""Oh no, I just needed your help. You remember, you said if I need you to call.""OK, what's up Richy?""Well, let me ask you first! In South America, particularly, central Brazil, do you think Indians are living there?""Well, the Indian population is scarce, but I guess so, depending on who you classified as such.""No, no! That's not what I'm saying.""Well what are you saying?""Are there tribes of barbarians living in the jungles of South America?"A chuckle spilled from Julian's mouth. "No, I don't think there are barbarians, but indigenous tribes. I'm sure they are all over in the forests of Brazil.""Oh, yeah!?""Yeah, some of which civilization has no idea exist, or we haven't communicated with them at least.""Do you think they are violent?""They could be territorial, especially toward Europeans.""I have a proposition for you. Would you like an expense-paid trip to study these savages?"Julian sat silently as he pondered Richard's request. "I'll also pay you for your services. I will need you just in case we have any confrontations with a tribe. You will be the best choice in attempting to communicate with them.""Yes, you're right! I also have an Indian colleague whose ancestors are from the central Brazilian rainforest, and he speaks some similar dialects. I have mastered that particular language from dealing with him for so long.""Oh great, what is his name?""Poncho-twinytoe!""Great. Can we meet tomorrow morning?""Wait a minute now. You're rushing me. I can not act on such short notice.""Julian, I know! I know, but don't you want to study these people up close and get paid significantly for doing it.""OK! I never could say no since you always stood up for me in college. However, I don't believe my friend Poncho... I might not be able to contact him on such a short notice. Richard, now. How about giving me until the next morning, because I believe he is out of town? I'll call you tomorrow evening to confirm the final departure arrangements."The men terminated the call and Richard immediately headed towards the bed. He crashed mentally into a deep sleep, tossing and turning as nightmares filed on through his brain. He rolled in agony, but he was sleeping hard, and thoughts of death brewed from his nightmares. He awakened in the wee-hours of the morning dripping in sweat and truly glad his sleep was interrupted.Richard glanced at his wife, and he was not the only one having trouble sleeping. The visions of her husband not returning saddened her, and she sat there in her dark bedroom weeping. Richard watched her until his exhaustion once again got the best of him.The next morning shined brightly and the temperature wasted no time increasing its intensity. Richard had a streak going getting up ahead of his wife in the morning, and this time was no different. Actually, he was already at the office drawing up his plans. He used the phone frequently to call many different numbers, haste exuding from him. The worry that this project might be slipping from under him pounded his neural pathways. A plan was needed, and he began conjuring up all schemes imaginable. He considered all the people that could be used, but this needed to be a private ordeal.Richard picked up the phone once more and began dialing viciously. After ringing for a good minute, a pleasant voice answered, "Federal Bureau of Investigation! How may I direct your call?"Richard responded boldly, "Yes! Kyser Finley, please.""Who may I say is calling?""Advise that Rich is on the phone."The receptionist placed Richard on hold while she patched through to Agent Finley's office."Hello Rich! How you been?""I've been very busy.""Yeah, but how are you?" Kyser exclaimed with a delighted chuckle, glad to hear from his old pal."Oh I've been fine, except for one problem.""What's the problem," declared the agent. "What's the problem, Rich? You know I'm here if you need me.""Well Ky! I have a project going in South America, and I suspect there may be a tribe of people, or some jungle savages, who are trying to sabotage this project. I paid a great deal to acquire this land, and...""Well hold up, Richard! First, you sound like you're juiced up, and what exactly are they trying to sabotage.""I'm building a shipyard on the Amazon. I'll have to cut a tremendous amount of trees in doing so.""Richard, what makes you believe a tribe of savages, as you say, are the problem?""I have a friend, a professor at the University of Saint Helen's, and he has indicated there are tribes living in the area that could be territorial. I'm bringing him along because of his understanding of the many dialects of central Brazilian languages.""So, I guess you want me to go to South America.""Yes, and a few of your agents. Just to look out for things. There will be substantial pay for your services. Just consider it an overtime gig.""Oh yeah? This project must be very important to you. How much will this compensation be exactly?""I'm paying you and three others fifty-thousand dollars for three days. If I need you longer than that, then there will be more money, but I really don't think you want to talk about this over the phone.""It's fine. This line is secure.""All you need to do is patrol the area and investigate any out-of-the-ordinary occurrences.""OK, Rich! I'll assemble a team. When exactly did you want to leave?""In the morning!""My! Aren't we in a hurry!""Yes I am. So, I'll have someone pick you and your crew up in the morning."Agent Finley gave a peculiar look after hanging the phone up, but the money was good, so he shrugged off Rich's apparent urgency. Finley continued to fog his office up with a large pipe, and allowed the aroma to soothe his pondering.Richard, on the other hand, didn't have time to sit and smoke leisurely. He was too busy. He frantically called every individual that he could beg, plead, or bribe into helping. He called the professor to assure his arrival would be tidy. He checked with his assistant, John, to make sure he had called the engineer. There was a tremendous effort to get some work done, because he disliked being behind schedule. The investors would be looking for a report on the land and its constructability, and he did not want to disappoint them, nor did he want to disappoint himself. Everything had to be in place, which is why he called the FBI, so there would be no screw-ups. Whatever was delaying this process must be stopped.Richard again dialed ferociously, and a few rings later, Julian answered. "Yes Rich! What is it now?""How are we coming?""Oh just fine. Just like the last call.""I'm just checking.""Look, I'll be there, and on time, and we can get on your plane to South America. I still haven't figured out what you want from me. Do you want me to speak to them? If we even see any tribesman.""That is exactly what I want from you. In case we do encounter these folks, you'll be the most qualified to handle any communication efforts. I mean, we do have to tell them to move and that we plan to build there."A sarcastic laugh pearled from the professor's lips. "OK. Whatever! I don't have a life anyway, so it's probably meant for me to go on some endeavor. Maybe I'll find a new life or something.""Well Julian, I can't promise that, but I'll give you a little bit for your troubles.""Oh man, I have enough money. Besides, I would love to help you while honing my skills.""We will see you at the airport.""Great, great. This is going to be an enlightening experience."The phone was hung up with a bit of satisfaction in Richard's heart, but before he could enjoy it, he was yelling to the top of his lungs. "John, John! I need you in my office."Richard had placed John's office next door, so he couldn't help but hear the shouts. John walked to Richard's office with the usual look of disapproval. "What is the update on the civil engineer. Have you been able to get one to accept the job.""No problem at all. You were offering a substantial amount of money, so there were many offers.""Well, I don't have time to go through an audition. Who do you suspect is the best for the job? Come on John, that is why I hired you. You are my right hand man. You better have an engineer and crew ready to go by morning."John had already decided on Brutus Salapore. Research was done and John had noticed that the privately owned contracting company had done several jobs dealing with forests and marshlands. It was a large engineering firm with survey crews of their own, which would be the perfect accommodation for Richard's needs: a navigator was needed to sail boats to and from the site, and as many helicopter pilots as possible would be helpful. These positions were filled easily upon signing Brutus and his contracting firm.They were all to meet at the airport at the same time as the FBI crew, and Julian was to arrive soon thereafter. Richard was thorough, and his arrangements were precise. They would all catch the same private Lear jet to Macapa. He felt his first sense of relief in a while, and the departure day was approaching fast. He decided to turn in early, to rest well before morning.The ride home was pleasant, but his thoughts about Joe grew more compassionate, and he began to miss him. However, he wasn't the only one thinking about Joe. So did Claira, and in fact, at that moment she was deciding that she was finished thinking about her husband and going to do something about her circumstances. She needed to know what had happened to him.She picked up the phone and dialed precinct seventeen. It rang severely before an operator could answer. "Is Rick Powers available?"The operator contacted Rick Powers instantly, and in the background she could hear his colleagues acknowledge his call. One officer had even blurted, "It's that silly broad whose husband left her." Laughter followed."This is Rick Powers. How can I help you?""I was calling to find out how the investigation was going?""Investigation!" A smirk spilled from Rick's mouth, but miles of fiber optics concealed that. "Mrs. Geshy, there's really nothing we can do at this point, not until someone calls in with a tip or evidence of foul play turns up. There's nothing...""I don't like your attitude! Let me speak to your superior.""Sure," he said with a sense of pleasure. Rick transferred the call to Lieutenant Steve Harrington."This is Harrington!""Yes, this is Claira Geshy. I spoke to you before about a missing husband."Claira wanted badly to continue her statement, but Steve had orchestrated a smooth interruption. "Yes, and like I told you before, there are many calls similar to yours, and really, there is no way to determine if his vanishing was voluntary or not. You know, sometimes when you don't expect it, these things happen.""Look! You people are not listening. I told you that was not the case, and you have just the same attitude as that slick Rick guy. I can't believe this. In fact, I'm not getting anywhere with you. Who's your superior?""That would be Captain Gunther, and I believe he is on a call. I don't know if...""I'll hold on!" Claira declared with no retreat. "Don't make me come up there to talk to Captain Gunther. I'll be sure to exercise my first amendment rights in the middle of your facility.""Calm down, Mrs. Geshy. That won't be necessary. I'll go to his office and brief him on your call, and we will see if he will accept the call.""Yeah, you go do your briefing."She waited patiently, not doubting one bit that he would get on the phone. Harrington proceeded around the corner to softly tap on and then open the captain's door. He signaled him silently with a look of shame. The captain muted the phone in an old-fashioned way, wondering why he was being interrupted. He cocked back in his chair, impatience showing in his eyes."What!""Captain, there's a woman who insists on speaking with you.""Well, who is this woman?""Her name is Claira Geshy.""And why does she want to speak with me?""She called in a missing report for her spouse, Joe. We have done everything routinely and strictly by the guidelines, but there's no evidence of anything. I told her it's possible her husband has decided to go off for a little while. She is very rude and continues to ask for someone up the ranks, but like I told her, that doesn't change the procedures.""Pass the call through... Yes, let me give you a call back."The captain hung his previous call up, and awaited the transfer. "Yes, this is captain Gunther! How can I help you?" George exclaimed very friendly as if a sales pitch was to follow."Hell, Captain! My husband is missing and nothing is being done about it!""That is not true. My officer has told me everything has been done, at least all that can be done.""According to your officers, hmm. That is a damn lie. What the hell has been done?""Mrs. Geshy, what do you expect us to do?""Have you questioned the Dickenson's?""Yes we have! You see, we have been doing our job.""Well who did you talk with? Have you even spoke to Richard?""We spoke to his wife, Susan."Claira really began to blow off some steam, and her tone increased. "I don't give a damn what she has to say—she has nothing to do with this case. In fact, she doesn't know shit. My husband was to go off with Richard, not Susan.""Mrs. Geshy, please calm down the foul language. He was out of town at the time.""Out of town, oh that's just great. When in the hell will he be back?""Look! Calm down. Your profanities will not speed this matter up. He was in South America.""South America," yells Claira with severe disappointment. "What the hell is going on in South America? My husband goes there and never returns, but this Richard is always in South America. What the fuck is this? I definitely need to speak to my attorney. Richard is a multi-millionaire, and that is why my case is being neglected. I'll slander your so-called police force. You'd better have Mr. Dickenson questioned, and I will be checking."The phone was slammed down roughly, and the captain was baffled. "Harrington, get in here.""Yes captain!""Why was I not informed this case involved Richard Dickenson.""Well sir, we treated it like a normal call.""What do you mean a normal call? Richard is far from normal, you morons!"The captain was getting angry, his tone rising a few octaves. "I don't know? In all my years on the force, I still couldn't tell you what a normal call is."Captain Gunther chuckled but had business written all over his face. "Harrington, one question. What is an above normal call, or better yet, what is a below normal call? You idiot! Who could you put on this case? Because if Rick slanders Richard's name and is incorrect, Richard won't stop until Rick's career is destroyed.""That's only if there was some suspicion of foul play. There's no evidence of that.""I know, but I have a feeling this case has mud all over it.""Why do you say?""This Dickenson is always in South America, according to Claira.""Oh! I see. I wasn't aware of that.""The missing husband was to join Mr. Dickenson. That is what happens when you refuse to listen, but do you see how this can get ugly in an investigation? All types of personal questions will have to be asked."Captain George Gunther sat back and pondered the situation, while giving Harrington a keen stare. All of a sudden he blurted, "Put hot shot Pullins on the case. He's been causing a stir lately, and since he wants to be a hot shot, this will be the case that makes or breaks him. And call old Edward Bot in my office. I know when he first questions Richard, oh man. I would love to see that scene.""You think Richard would be offended when you send Edward to question him?""Yes, I'm sure he would be, especially if he had nothing to do with it. Go and get Mr. Hot Shot."Captain Gunther sat patiently while he waited for Edward to be fetched."Yes Captain, you wanted to see me." The man spoke firmly, but only because a trip to the captain's office usually meant being written up. "What seems to be the problem, Captain?""There is no problem with you, but there is one I would like you to solve.""Oh!" A pause followed and Edward again responded in an unconvinced manner. "I'm being assigned to a special case, oh boy. I know something's about to fall out the sky.""OK Edward, cut the small talk. I want you to question Richard Dickenson at this address about the disappearance of Joe Geshy. Read this report. It will tell you everything you need to know, so go by there this evening if you want, and choose a partner if you like."The captain knew he would choose Gary Stevens, the one he had been fooling around with. The plan worked, because there was no one else Edward could dig up. The two left for dinner before they took the trip to the Dickenson's.The two detectives departed the precinct eager to solve a mystery. "So Ed, what's up? Catch me up to speed.""Read the report that summarizes the issues.""No! Man, forget a report. What's going on?""Some guy name Joe is missing, and his wife said he was supposed to go to South America with that rich guy named Dickenson. We are to question him and search for any clues as to why he is gone.""Do you think maybe her husband just left her?""I don't know, Gary. I really can't say." Edward shook his head.Gary said, "We will see soon." They stopped at a casual restaurant to get a quick bite to eat.CHAPTER TWELVEFood was far from Richard Dickenson's mind. He was home in deep sleep, and the prospects for any change in his consciousness status soon looked bleak. Mrs. Dickenson took care of some chores around the house, and everything was peaceful until Hayword alerted her that two gentlemen were requesting to see her husband. The urgency was obvious in Hayword's voice, which compelled Susan to move quickly. Richard remained asleep through the initial commotion.Finally, Hayword was face to face with Susan and said, "Mrs. Dickenson, there are two detectives who want to speak to your husband. Mr. Dickenson is not in trouble, is he?""No Hayword, no! Now run along. I will handle this."Susan saw Mr. Reynolds on his way, and then she headed to face the detectives. "Yes," replied Susan curiously. "How can I help you gentlemen?""I'm detective Edward Pullins, and this is my partner, Gary Stevens. We would like to speak to your husband.""OK..., just a moment. Let me notify him of your presence."Susan walked swiftly to get her husband, wondering why the police were back at her home. The fact that there were different detectives caused more concern."Richard! Richard! Honey, honey, wake up." Susan spoke sharply, and her words were followed by a few jolts. "Wake up, the police want to talk to you."Richard woke up groggy. "What, what! What Dear?""There are two detectives out here who want to speak to you. Some other detectives came by yesterday evening to ask a few questions. What is going on dear?""What kind of questions—and a fine time to tell me?""First of all, you've been ripping and running all over the place, and I haven't had the chance. You're up in the morning and gone before I know it. So what the hell am I supposed to do? It's not like I could have called the office real quick."Richard headed for the door to let the detectives in. They introduced themselves to Richard, and they were offered a seat. "Well what can I do for you gentlemen?""We just have a few questions for you. When was the last time you heard, or have seen Joe Geshy?""Well he was supposed to meet me in South America, but his plane was due late. When I went to pick him up at the airfield in South America, he wasn't there.""That is not what I asked you.""Hah, pardon me?""I said that is not what I asked you!""What! What are you talking about?""I asked, when was the last time you saw Joe Geshy?""What, oh! I... I don't know. I mean it's been a while, I guess. That is why I invited my friend to go along. I hadn't seen him in some time."The two detectives stared at Richard as he answered their questions. Edward was good at smelling fish."What were you doing down there, if you don't mind me asking?" asked Detective Pullins in the calmest tone imaginable."Well it was a mini-vacation, in celebration of a project I am building."Gary sat quietly for a while, then said, "Were you and Joe friends, or primarily business associates?""We were friends! Look I don't know where this is taking us."Edward was not convinced, declaring abruptly, "You say that his plane was late. Was that flight booked out of the local airport."Richard only nodded his head as if still listening to Edward's questions."What flight? Do you know what flight he was to be on?""I'm not sure what flight.""Well Mr. Dickenson, Joe's wife indicated that he was to fly in your private jet.""Oh yes, but I'm not sure what flight it was numbered, or if they even bother with private flights.""There's a record of every flight and a passenger count," replied Gary.Richard's look became that of someone gone numb, but he tried hard to conceal it.Edward demands, "I need the dates and times of your flight reservations. I'm sure you wouldn't send me to get a warrant and have me tearing up your house for a simple piece of information I know you have."Richard looked at the gentlemen and appeared concerned, but his cool sustained adequately. "Sure I'll get that info no problem."Richard did just that and the men were on their way.Richard was furious after their departure and let off some steam that showed he was in no mood to talk. His wife was the first to find that out as her condolences were lashed at. His concerns now showed, and if the detectives were here, he would be near a confession. Then Richard thought, a confession of what? I haven't killed anyone. They would even have to prove he's dead. Richard's logic got full firing support from his neural net. Joe's way down in South America, in the jungle. Who's going to find him? He considered many scenarios to try and calm his nerves. It finally worked because Richard was back to sleep.The next morning was hectic. Richard was up early as usual, assuring that his team arrived on the plane. Detective Pullins was eager to check the airport records, and that was the first task he would complete. He went alone while his partner did some research on their suspect. Ironically, Rich and Ed were at the same airport, but Richard was a step ahead and his posse on their way to South America.Edward immediately asked around when arriving at the airport, and specifically searched for who had private flight records. After talking with many people, he was finally directed to the same gate Richard departed from."Excuse me," he said politely. The attendant behind the ticket counter gave him her complete attention. "I'm detective Edward Pullins." He flashed his badge while continuing his polite manner. "I need some information pertaining to private jets and their flight schedules for the last two weeks. Also, if you know of anyone arranging flights by the name of Richard Dickenson, he usually has private jets departing from here."The attendant took a moment to review her records, and responded gingerly. "Yes! I think so. He and a large group of people just departed."Edward squinted his eyes and grew eager to hear some more, but he asked, "Their destination wouldn't happen to be South America.""Yes, I believe so, but they are not required to release that information; however, I could hear some of them speak of a rainforest, and... South America!"A grim look surfaced upon Edward's face, and he began to feel like a hound dog hot on a trail. "He has actually had more than one flight, and they were all to South America.""Hmmm...," responded Edward."That's funny," declared the attendant, but then she visibly shook it off as nothing."What's funny?" Edward asked."Oh nothing. It's just that his last flight had only one guest.""OK, thank you. You have been an extreme help!"Edward jetted out of the airport fueled by his ecstatic emotion from what he had just heard. He hauled ass back to the station to inform his partner. The hasty driving caused him to curse a few drivers along the way. Nevertheless, he arrived safely, and there were no casualties."Hey Joseph! Have you seen Gary?""Stevens!?""Yes, where is he?""He should be back there."Ed accelerated in the indicated direction. "Hey Gary, do you know that Joe guy did get on that plane of Richard's. So he did make it to South America, but Joe, hmmm! Apparently he didn't make it back.""We still don't know if he just wanted to leave his wife.""You're right, but why did he lie? He knew all along Joe was on that plane.""Yeah, but maybe he is covering for him. You know, if I had a million dollars, I'd probably up and leave my wife too. That is if she doesn't get half, then it's cheaper to keep her. You know they are friends. Richard probably assisted him in his departure.""Friends!? According to him, but I just don't know? Something about this feels unbelievable."Edward Pullins had to ponder deeply after that final comment. He snapped out of his reverie and said, "Let's get a bite to eat."The detectives were just about to walk out of the precinct, but a fellow officer called out, "Pullins! Someone is calling in a missing report. I think you want to take this call. The guy is very irate and he's saying something about South America. Should I just hang up on this guy—it may be a prank call.""Oh no! No!" Edward grabbed the phone after a few short steps. "Hello, this is Edward Pullins."A voice on the other end raged. "Hello, Hello! Hey that Richard guy left my friends to die.""Who is this? What are you talking about? Is someone dead?"Edward signaled the fellow officer to begin recording the conversation in pursuit of a trace."He left them. My friend Milo is dead, and I haven't heard from the others.""Hey wait a minute. What others?"The anonymous caller terminated the call just before they could get a trace.Edward took the tape and the statement of the ticket clerk to seek a warrant. "Gary, let's get a warrant. This scum bag is hiding something."The officers did just that and headed for the home of Richard and Susan Dickenson. The captain was glad to issue the warrant because he still believed they were barking up the wrong tree. The search of his home, and the temporary detaining of Richard, would be very embarrassing to his reputation. In fact, the captain felt strongly that Edward could jeopardize his career for wrongly accusing a well established man. George wanted Edward out of his way anyhow, and this was the apparent way to accomplish that goal.George Gunther sat back in his chair and wondered about the situation, concluding everything would turn out for the better.Gary and Edward were already driving off in a dark grey Crown Victoria with dark tinted windows and no signs of police decals visible. Gary took the honor of chauffeuring while Edward scanned a few issues. Gary looks at Edward a few times, but only briefly due to the congested traffic. He was dying to say something, and finally he did, "Well Ed! Do you think this could be foul play?"Edward gazed up at Gary and treated his comments as premature. "I really can not say! I know he's hiding something, and that's exactly why we're on our way to his house. His dishonesty caused that, and we'll find out why.""What did the captain say?""Well he seemed eager, but I don't know why. I have wondered why I was put on this case, especially since someone else was already on it.""Maybe you're being set up—I don't know? Just be careful.""Don't forget you're my partner, so more than likely, whatever happens, you're coming with me." Edward turned to look through his side mirror and continued, "Well, whatever the case maybe, I drug you into this shit. So, I fall, you fall!""Oh no buddy, because I'm covering my ass.""Yeah you do that.""Oh I will! You just don't do anything stupid."A brief silence loomed momentarily, but Edward snapped that by directing Gary to "Turn up here!"The detectives were approaching the Dickenson's estate. "Damn, every time I see this house I'm awed. It's lovely.""Yes it is! That is why I'm not quite clear on how to approach this case.""Yeah, I see. I wonder why he put you on such a high profile case. The media may be all over this. Yeah, the captain is setting you up alright, either that or testing you.""Well maybe, but I will do my job the best way I can.""Oh man, that is what scares me." Gary paused and looked upward. "Look at these gates."Hayword had recognized the men and let them in. "What can we do for you gentlemen this time."Edward responded instantly once he was fully out of the car. "Are Mr. or Mrs. Dickenson available?"Hayword gingerly replied, "Yes, she is in there. Let me get her for you."He walked toward the house but wondered why they followed so closely behind him. Hayword hollered, "Mrs. Dickenson... We have guests!" He repeated his shouts as the door flung completely open. There was amazement when he realized the detectives followed right behind him.Susan proceeded down the stairs, a shocked response upon her face when she realized that Hayword had allowed the detectives to barge in. "Yes, may I help you. What is it you want this time?"Edward replied, "We have a warrant to search the premises." He flashed the document with the judge's John Hancock scribbled illegibly."On what grounds?""I'm sorry, but I reserve the right not to disclose that information, only to the owner of this house.""What! Does marriage mean anything anymore."Susan felt the fire of anger up under her skin, but she couldn't say a word that would help quench her anger. The detectives looked around, not sure what they were looking for, but it scared her as she didn't know what was going on. Hayword looked on in amazement. Susan gave him a look that said he should get lost. He took heed, but his nosiness allowed that to be but brief.Hayword headed for Richard's private room, knowing she was programmed not to approach that room, especially when Richard was gone. Hayword was a smart fellow, understanding that this search was about Richard and everything they were looking for was in here.Susan couldn't bear the fact that her home was being ransacked, and to top it off, her little one ran into the house to see what was going on. "Mommy, mommy. Who is that? Why are they here? Are they Daddy's friends? Mommy, tell them to leave. Why are they messing up everywhere?"Susan grabbed her little one and hugged her tightly. She walked her to the den's sofa and sat down to cry."What's the matter Mommy. I'm scared of those men—they're ugly. They are monsters.""Oh dear, don't say that. They are not monsters. They're just doing their job.""Well, why are they making you cry?""Baby, they're not making me cry. I just feel sad because I miss your father.""I do too, Mommy."The men searched room after room before searching the one Hayword had retreated to. They opened the door and Hayword looked as if he was caught red-handed."We need to search in here now," announced Edward.They began looking while Hayword stepped aside and watched on. Edward asked Hayword, "Do you know where he keeps his information on his back-and-forth trips to South America.""Well if I did, what's in it for me?"Gary replied anxiously, "You get to live!""So, what! Are you going to beat me up right here? That wouldn't be smart of you, especially with Mrs. Dickenson in the next room."Edward immediately thought of the captain's hidden agenda and restrained Gary from any assaults while beginning to negotiate. "Well what did you say your name was again?""Hayword!""Oh, Hayword! Look, my partner isn't going to harm you or anything."Gary lowered his voice to growl and said, "Let me get a hold of his smart-mouth ass."Edward continued, "Look Hayword! We are just trying to conduct an investigation. Tell you what! Tell me about yourself. Tell me about your dreams and aspirations. Maybe I can help you.""Well first! I am tired of this boring ass job, securing his home. Hardly ever shit happens here, so of what use am I. Just greeting people like you. I have a lot more potential, and all Richard does is pass me off.""Well why does he get you angry?" replied Edward in the softest of voices."I've been trying to get him to post me at one of his office buildings or something. Anything to save me from this agony. I even asked him to take me along on one of his trips to South America. I could secure things there, but no, I get left here. The same old-same old!""You said South America. Where does he keep information on that.""I was snooping around one day, and right under here, you see it, is a concealed compartment under this chair." Hayword pulled out a couple of maps and documents of Richard's detailed plans.Edward read the city that was circled in red. "Macapa!" He also noticed a little area Southwest of Macapa that was circled as well. "Gary! I think we have what we were looking for, and we now need to start looking elsewhere."The gentlemen quickly headed back to the car, for they were eager to get back to the station. All you could hear was burning rubber from the tires of a well-maintained Ford.Gary said, "You still haven't told me what we have found, and especially why we left without completing the search.""Let's just say we have more insight thanks to his travel agent.""What!""We're going to see just why he's constantly in South America, and maybe, just maybe, we can find out why in the hell South America is so damned important.""Are you suggesting we go all the way to South America? I don't believe the captain will go for that. In fact, he may just say wait until he gets back.""We can't wait.""Why?" asked Gary with a curious look."Because, I think we will find whatever we're looking for right down there. I'll bet Joe went down there with Richard, whether it was voluntarily or involuntarily remains to be seen."Gary's face contained a stunned look; he knew they were on to something, but exactly what was unclear.Edward parked the car quickly and exited the car. Gary wasn't as eager to get into the building, but was one-hundred percent with his partner."Hello Ed!""Edward.""Yo Pullins!" And many more hellos went unanswered as he focused on Captain Gunther's office."What's wrong with Edward?"Gary shook his head and replied, "Well, He's... I guess you can say, he's on a mission.""Oh yeah, what now? He doesn't plan on getting into anymore trouble?"Gary knew that was a possibility when recalling the last incident. Gary's head had throbbed briefly knowing Edward knew for a fact those gangsters were dealing, but he rushed them with no regards for their rights—no warrant and just a hunch for a probable cause. Gary understood because they did witness illegal activities, or what appeared to be illegal, but sometimes there are procedures that must be followed. Edward seems to forget that at times, and with that very thought, Gary exclaimed, "You're right! I will be sure to keep an eye on him."Gary followed the path his partner had taken through the precinct. As he came around the corner, he saw that Edward Pullins had opened the captain's door. He heard the sternness reflected in a grumpy voice from just beyond Pullins' entryway."What do you want Pullins.""Well sir, I have to report!""Yes, I'm listening.""Well, I questioned Richard Dickenson. He's guilty of obstruction of justice.""Oh! How so?" This really got Gunther's attention."Well, you already know he said he had no knowledge of a flight, when in fact, it was his plane that provided the transportation for the missing man. The attendant at the airport reported this mysterious flight, because it was only one passenger. He did get on that plane Richard provided and went to South America. That is why we can hardly ever speak with Richard—he's always in South America.""Hold up! Slow down and hold your horses for just a minute. Did she identify the passenger as Joe... well did she?""No, I don't believe so.""You see! Even if it was the missing man, then you still have nothing. Nothing but a one way trip without evidence to suggest otherwise, as far as I'm concerned. It was an unexpected one way trip, or maybe expected, would be a better way to put it. Detective Pullins, you're not married are you? I didn't think so. The fact that Richard is constantly in South America makes it seem to me this missing guy is in fact not missing at all. A new tropical life in South America does sound splendid."Edward was not amused by Gunther's unwillingness to reason, and he replied shrewdly. "If that's so, why did he have to withhold all this information?""Look, just because he didn't want you snooping around his affairs doesn't mean he's committed a crime. Maybe he doesn't want the guy's wife to know it was deliberate. Have you considered that they may be dating each other?""Oh come on be serious," replied Edward in a most disturbed tone."I'm serious, and I find no grounds to think otherwise. Besides, to go all the way to South America would be futile."Edward stood there staring through furious eyes, but it mattered not. The captain raised his voice. "That's all Pullins!"Edward's heart dropped and disappointment filled him. He turned slowly and exited the door, slamming it behind him."Whoa! Hold up! What's up," asked Gary.Edward said nothing while walking to his desk. Fellow teammates observed his tirade and Gary did the same. Ed sat there thinking of his predicament, but only shortly due to Gary's interruption."I guess the captain wasn't buying it."Edward replied sarcastically, "No he wasn't. I don't know. He was eager to get me on this case, and as soon as I get a lead he shoots it down." Edward continued to shake his head in disbelief. "Wow, I have to tell this lady we aren't going to do shit about her case."Gary looked on with empathy. "Tell you what, Ed! Let me go shut down my pc, you make the call, and I'll treat you to a few drinks. The Taj Mahal downtown maybe, hang out for the rich and famous.""The drinks there are expensive.""Just an act of appreciation for a partner and friend.""OK," he said and picked up the phone while Gary went to shut down his system. He allowed the phone to ring three times, finally a frail voice answered."Hello!""Mrs. Geshy, this is detective Pullins.""Yes!""I'm sorry to inform you, but there's nothing else we can do at this moment."Claira's profanities were exhausted, she just cried. "Mrs. Geshy, Mrs. Geshy!" Edward said repeatedly with a caring voice. "I know how hard this is for you. I found a few leads; however, my captain is restraining me, so be patient. I promise you I'll get to the bottom of this, OK? That is my promise."Claira responded finally after trying so hard to break her crying spurt. "OK, Mr. Pullins! What leads are you referring to anyway?""Well, I believe Richard's plane did have your spouse on it. He lied as well, so I have to go to South America to find out. This is where I'm currently restricted, but you just hold on and I'll figure something out."He terminated the call and joined Gary in exiting the building. They jumped in that same Crown Vic and sped off. Gary drove quickly through the streets while trying to cheer Edward up."You know you'll like this place, lovely women and good music. I also know the bartender, so we can get as many drinks as we like. They have the best wings in town, and I want to beat your ass in some eight ball. Take a few of your dollars in the process should be fun, to me at least." Gary gave Ed a sharp shove, "Man, cheer up."Gary failed to get a smile out of his partner, but did get a response. "First of all, I'm as cheerful as I'm going to get. Secondly, you won't do shit in pool. I own you, eight ball, nine ball, or whatever! You can't touch me."Gary surely disagreed. "I hope your money is where your mouth is, because here we are."Shortly after parking the Crown Victoria, the men entered the building. Upon doing so they could instantly pick up on the cluttered sounds of adults mingling. The air was stuffy from the many smokers, but the temperature was cool from the facility's high powered carrier unit. Ed was still in a grim mood, but he couldn't help but smile as beautiful women smiled at him. Gary patted Ed on the back and yelled, "You'll love it here. I know you noticed the chicks checking you out. Get relaxed man, and don't worry about work. It's time to play."Gary slapped his comrade on the back again, but he took heed of Ed's don't-do-it-again stare. "Come on! Let's get a few drinks," shouted Gary as he directed them to a particular section of the bar. The bar was packed, but fortunately two stools became available. Gary reached for a menu while Ed sought comfort on his stool. Looking around at the many people was probably what restricted his comfort, but suddenly his attention was redirected.A smile coupled with an eager voice greeted the detectives from behind the counter. "Hey!" A triangle eye contact, each person looking at the other in turn, was accompanied by a vibrant voice, which continued. "Gary! I haven't seen you in a while. Good to see you again.""Yeah, you the same Tee," replied Gary. "What can I get for you gentlemen?""I'll have a martini on the rocks," said Gary, his voice nearly sparkling. "What about your friend?""Oh, I'm sorry Tee! This is my partner, Edward Pullins." Ed gave her a hand gesture."I'll have a bud draft.""Any appetizers with this tonight."Edward didn't pick up on that final comment; instead, he was trying to get the attention of someone. He thought that maybe eye contact would get her to notice him like he noticed her.Gary's voice grew prominent and it was evident as he uttered, "I wouldn't mind those hot wings. Twenty pieces would suffice, and maybe some breadsticks. I'm getting a little hungry, I don't know about you!" Gary looked at Ed after jolting him on the shoulder a few times. "Ed! Ed! Oh... I see you got your eyes on something."By this time, Ed had her attention and both were gazing at each other. "Hey man, do you want anything to eat."Edward snapped out of his trance. "Yes let me get the house salad, with Italian dressing. Extra dressing please."The entire brief moment Gary watched Edward place his order. "I see you enjoying yourself already. You haven't even mingled around—oh let me check that—you've already started." Gary now gave a stunning look at his partner and continued his verbiage. "When I whip your ass in pool, don't let me damage your attitude."Edward gulped his draft to the halfway point and then looked back for the mysterious woman, but she was not in his immediate sight. He returned his head and drank on.The two indulged in small talk while sipping and waiting for their meals. You could hear the bar get a little more rowdy, and crowds began to clutter together. They noticed a particular gathering at the far end of the bar, but chose Tee's delivery instead. The crowd in that far end became more noticeable, but their foods kept them concentrated. There was no violence appearing to brew, but profanities could be heard spewing from the thick crowd. The grub was glorious, so the men ignored the commotion and dug in. You could tell the place had good food because the entire bar seemed to have hearty appetites.The detectives were a bit tipsy from the alcohol and their contents of their plates were pulverized. Edward thought he now had the energy to mingle, when suddenly, he spotted the woman who had captivated him previously. He quickly darted towards the beauty to ask her to dance.Gary walked about making lewd comments to every human of the opposite gender. "Pssst...pssst... Hey sexy thing." His comments seemed to be something these women wanted to ignore. He started sensing that, so he gave up and headed back to his seat at the bar. The women in here were particularly in search of the rich and famous, or at least someone pretending to be well established. It was hard to tell the difference because everyone did their best to spend money, which is why the place prospered and so did the women. The experienced women could tell the difference between a rich man and average one, which is probably why Gary got no play.Edward was smooth and had an aurora about him, so the women could easily become attracted to his pure honesty. The woman he danced with proved his fox instincts as she showed all signs of enjoyment. The detective was single, so he welcomed her eagerness. The men enjoyed themselves, and continued to dance and drink.CHAPTER THIRTEEN: THE EXPEDITIONAt the small airstrip, Richard's plane had already landed and his guests were escorted to their living quarters. The setup was a conference room with tropical chairs made of bamboo. They were very sturdy and comfortable, so the crew had no problem gathering around this conference table.Richard spoke. "I'm glad you were all able to make it. We have a tough, but rewarding task ahead of us. You all have been briefed on your assignments. As you know, this is not the actual spot where we will be working. As you recall from your maps, it's southwest from here."Richard continued his speech, mostly directing it towards the five FBI agents. They sat in a group of their own just to the left of Richard. The leader of this team was Kyser Finley, a well-rounded man who had been crime fighting for years. He commanded a large number of agents at the Dallas office, but he had selected only the four agents beside him.Wesley Zimmerman was the only one who questioned anything and everything that moved, was said, or was done. He grew up in a family that regarded themselves as of the highest quality, which caused aggressiveness in his style, but that trait was balanced by understanding loyalty to his commander. His best acquaintance was fellow agent Adam Newfield, who hardly ever spoke but was extraordinarily observant. Being friends with Wesley improved Adam's manhandling skills.His relationship with Roy Beavers was not as dandy, and was just dealt with. Roy's loving and kind attitude was no way to approach criminality—at least in Wesley's eyes. Opposite in gender with a slight deficiency of physical output, but just as efficient, Pamela Slaughter was the icing on the cake to what would prove to be a resilient group. She got along with the rest of the group fine, except for a few erroneous remarks. Nevertheless, she shrugged them off and proved to be a tough gal who was well bred.They all were loyal to Kyser, and rightfully so, because he was a fair man.Brutus Salapore vaguely listened to Richard and put more effort into reviewing his notes. Thorough indeed, Mr. Salapore could always be seen working on something even when just sitting. This was no exaggeration; if he wasn't eating, shitting, or sleeping, then he was reading, writing, or reviewing. These facts made him the most prepared to go out here and get some work done.The FBI team really didn't have a function but to patrol the area. Richard had panicked the last time, so he felt good with a few licensed shooters on his team."That is why I need you... ah, hmm..!" Richard grunted again to interrupt Susie and Andrew's lustful bon voyage. "As I was saying, Susie! We need you, so you and your spouse should keep your home affairs private, and at home. You are transportation to and from the site, also to haul any and everything we need."He stopped for a moment and spoke again sharply. "Brutus! Are you not the leader here? Keep their hormones at a manageable rate, or they will definitely be of no use."Brutus's face showed his acquiescence."Oh! Jerry Kratz is it." He acknowledged affirmatively and Richard continued on. "Pretty soon, we will need to transport heavy equipment here. So your first duty will be to sail a boat to the site and set anchor. The vessel I have provided can be used as an emergency medical facility. My dear old friend here, Doctor Julian Akbar, also specializes in language and medicine—quite some talent the doc has."Julian grinned and invited his introduction with arms open."You say he specializes in language and medicine. What else does he specialize in?" asked Agent Zimmerman.Julian remained silent, but he continued to gleam as he allowed Richard the honors."He also studies ancient antiquities and indigenous peoples of the Western hemisphere."Wesley looked puzzled and glanced at Adam and Kyser before responding. "I hope this isn't some kind of science field trip, because I hated science."Richard quickly soothed his confusion. "Oh no, believe you me! We are here to make preparations to build a state of the art export/import facility. In fact, a wonderful shipyard and maintenance complex. All of you will own the first shares. Just think of all the people who passed on Microsoft, and think about the few that owned the first shares. They are billionaires, to put it quite bluntly. Your money then can equal mine, well not quite mine, but possibly close. However, until then, you have to help me."After Richard's blabbering, he almost had everyone sold, but Wesley had to question all he'd said. "I understand about all of your money, and all the money you want to make, but I have one question. Why did you call, or NO. Excuse me. What caused you to feel you need the FBI or a professor of antiquities?""That is what I had planned, but... that's another story. The fact is that I need a report on the area's constructability delivered into the investors' hands. The professor advised of the possibility of this area containing tribes who are territorial. It's possible they won't give up this unofficial land of theirs without a fight."Wesley, for some reason, remained puzzled. "What gave you the idea to ask him if tribes were in the area? Have you seen any?"Richard looked stunned and replied negatively. "Well Wesley, I did my homework. I know tribes are plentiful in tropical rainforests all over the world. I know also that they have some strange beliefs that can even be cannibalistic. I just want to have someone on my crew I can rely on if we happen to run into any of these savages."His comments had sufficiently nourished Wesley's curiosity, but only for a moment, for his appetite was tremendous.Klinton Westfield was the other member of the team who remained silent. He was a well-built man who was a good friend of Brutus's. The many years they worked together helped build that strong bond."You all know your jobs, so get ready to travel to the site at dawn. As for now, enjoy yourselves, as I have Caribbean foods being cooked as we speak. I also have mixed drinks, but don't get too pissy because we have a job to do."Richard walked away and the crew adjourned, scattering their separate ways. Some remained in groups to talk, or some just had their own separate conversation.Wesley and Adam approached the grill area, while the Kemps sat on rocks that trimmed a crystal clear stream. Andrew threw pebbles into the water and observed the evening sky."Baby! We've been married for little over a year now, and I think I love you all over again."Susie seemed surprised by the comments and hugged her loved one tight. At this point, anything he said had the ability to lift her off her feet.Klinton interrupted the bliss by blurting, "What are you two lovebirds doing out here? You know, when they say until death do us part, well! If that be the case, I'm sure your hormones will play a dominant role."Andrew loosened his grip and replied to Klinton's friendly sarcasm. "What are you talking about?""Oh you know that old saying: live by the sword, die by the sword. How about the same thing that will make you laugh can make you cry.""Hey! A man can't indulge himself into his wife, the one he loves and cares for, and cherishes?""OK! I didn't mean for you to get all mushy on me."Klinton looked around and whispered to Andrew, but before the listener could understand a word, Susie intervened. "Get lost Klinton!""Alright, alright. I can see when I'm not wanted. That's OK, I'll let you newlyweds sicken yourself with an overdose of mush."Klinton chuckled at his friends' love and joked with them only because they were loving friends.Susie grabbed Andrew and seductively declared, "Now that we have gotten rid of our diversion..." She pecked him on the lips several times. "Sorry we were interrupted."Smacks sounded, but no one could hear them because the sounds of nature proved prominent.Wesley and Adam talked over some jerk and curry chicken, a Caribbean recipe that was unfamiliar to them. However, the way they devoured it proved it was delightful."Hey Adam, I didn't hear what you think.""About what!"Wesley looked at him in disbelief and said, "About this job. Doesn't something feel eerie.""I don't feel anything. I'm just here to earn these twenty-five thousand dollars, in what, five days. You can't beat that. What, five thousand a day?" Adam's head filled with imagination when he wished this was his normal fulltime salary."I'm not disputing the money's good, but forget the money. Is it not strange he would call us just to look around.""Hey Wes, cool out man. I'm glad he needed us."Wesley sipped his drink and grunted in disagreement."Stop being so damned skeptical. It might just be a legitimate way to make a decent living for a change."Wesley drank on and uttered softly, "Hmm... I hope you're right." He drank the last of his drink and grunted in the grimmest of tones. Wesley quickly fetched another drink, declining to follow Adam.Adam walked towards the living quarters where nearly all the crew had gone. Kyser spoke to Richard, but no one could hear their conversation because they were some distance away.Pam and Roy battled in a game of chess on the central waiting room display set, which was made of stone and commemorated the ancient Aztec civilization. The bishops, kings and queens, and other pieces were practically sculptured. Pamela was the one who decided to make better use of it, other than just as a simple display set.It took some convincing just to get Roy to play. After trying to talk her out of it, Roy succumbed. She was a pretty good chess player, and it showed when she nearly checkmated him, but Roy was also worried about tampering with the beautiful piece and couldn't really concentrate. His heavy drinking did not make his play much better either, but not much worse as well. He was used to the heavy doses of alcohol because it almost ruined him.Pam hollered across the room, "Hey Adam! Do you want next on the shellacking I'm putting on Mr. Beavers here.""No thanks!"Adam was more interested in speaking to Kyser. Nevertheless, it was getting late, and everyone was heading to their rooms. Brutus had been embarked on a review of their situation all the while, but he was now exhausted from the staring at a laptop.Wesley made his way to the quarters pissy drunk, as was Roy and some of the other members of the crew.The night had conquered day entirely and the stars were no longer restricted from view. All sounds of nature creeped, and made their distinctions by vociferating broadly about the forest. If one were to tour the forest at this time, he might find the surroundings exhilarating, but not if he was a native to the surroundings.The indigenous people had a bond with the forest, and so did the plant and animal life. This bond was so strong that the presence of foreigners was immediately recognized by the forest dwellers. This was a fact to the ancients because they believed every plant and animal on earth was designed to flow according to the laws of nature. They also believed that nature was expressed in the form of spirit, which were pure energy and consciousness absent physical form. Every living thing had spirit: plants, animals, and even humans, who are also animals.A spirit with good intentions could sense a spirit with bad intentions. The crew was instantly sensed, especially because their intentions weren't exactly soaked in holiness. They wanted to destroy life for their own personal gain, and this was a direct blasphemy of life itself. Anyone who could commit such vandalism couldn't believe what the ancients believed. They knew for a fact that the earth was alive and represented the mother of life.The modern-day members of the tribe hadn't been in touch with their ancestral knowledge for quite some time. Most of what they knew was passed down through oral storytelling. Even though some of their ancestors' cities had survived the ages, they had no access to them. Not that any tribal member would be able to read anything from those times, but most of the records had been destroyed anyway. This very fact caused their beliefs to become distorted and incomplete. However, the foundation of their beliefs remained intact, such as spirituality, sorcery, and nature having God-like tendencies.It is believed that these people made the forest their permanent homes when the Europeans first colonized the West. There were even ancient texts that indicated the arrival of these Europeans would mark cursed times for their people. After generations, it is understandable how one could lose their civilized traits. However, it seemed they resorted to what their ancestors would have wanted. That is to live on the land and flow peacefully with nature.That is what they did for thousands of years, with their immaculate cities of gold and designer stone, sturdy as a continent and thus still standing even to this day. The cities also resembled alignments that complimented the stars victoriously.The curse was brought upon us to remember where we came from. In the old days, kingdoms got grand, because now that they were civilized and had amassed an enormous amount of culture, but they forgot where they came from. So now the curse would return them to the state in which they came, and they would now appreciate the next time the world was under their direction.The curse has gotten out of hand. The lands that were once relied upon to evolve a civilized people were threatened by a worldwide epidemic. So, the spirits were called upon, and by chance, all parties setting foot on ancient soil were now asleep. There were chants of high praise. They were loud, as evil was near.It was time, and in the deep expanses of the soon-to-be-explored forest lurked eyes that belonged to animals of all types, but how many and what kinds was impossible to know. Exactly how many belonged to fleeing descendants of those ancestors was also unknown. There are said to be many groups that speak languages unknown to modern civilization. However, these languages may be related to others that are known by outsiders, to similar dialects, and the professor specialized in language, but his skills were no guarantee that his companions would be able to communicate with the people they found.In the vicinity of the project site were a few of those people whose language was unknown to outsiders. They danced around enormous trees and appeared to be trying to communicate with them, for they believed that the tree is the wisest living thing on earth. Everything about the lifecycle of a tree can be translated into human life experiences. They also believed the tree could be spoken to telepathically. Through certain sounds and vibrations produced with mouth and instruments, the tree was called upon for protection.This is what was happening, and the vibration got very loud, penetrating the dream state. Everyone who stepped foot on this soil had an immense flash during their REM, and the entire crew was affected, some worse than others. Joe's image invaded Richard's nightmares, and it too flashed intensely.The night carried on fierce in spirit, and the elements brewed in strength and terror. The forces of nature in this part of the world were thought to be spirits, and spirits could be called upon. This has been depicted in many cultures and communicated in multiple shapes of diverse distinctiveness. Even unsuspecting cultures have these ideas secretly placed to program the children. One example is the X-Men comic book superhero, "Storm." Her abilities to call upon nature's wrath and direct them in the purposes of her self-defense proves just that. Even the brave, beloved, and bizarre Tarzan, who beat the odds and survived being raised by animals, to eventually obtain an essence and spiritual unity with nature unheard of by modern-day man, is such an example.Nevertheless, your heart must be clean and sincere to now step foot on ancient property.The sun pierced the eastern horizon and the radiance from its rays were slightly visible. Muggy indeed was the air that seemed to hug you tight. The sun assisted, began to pound and sting like razor-sharp clippers performing a close edge.The first individual to bear those strenuous conditions was Brutus Salapore. It did not fail, he was immediately drawn to the work planned for the day. They had to get up early anyway. He was to take the boat with Jerry and Klinton. Their first job was to scan the bank where the river split to flow west and south. Getting on shore was the second objective.Brutus had to give a report to the investors as to the sufficiency of building such a structure. To do so he had to trek the jungle and decide how to go about producing this envisioned design. He walked out the door of his sleeping quarters to raise Jerry and Klinton.Jerry had been up smoking a Salem while scarfing down black coffee. He was used to getting up early back on his Louisiana farm, which was where he acquired his talent to navigate—coasting the Mississippi River and Lake Bruin honed his skills."Early to rise makes a man healthy and wise! Well good morning to you Brutus."The whole while Jerry smiled ecstatically, but Brutus walked on past, replying gracefully. "Yeah Jerry. We have a lot of work to do."Jerry followed along to gather their final team member. Salapore briefed Jerry on their way to Klinton's room. They halted briefly before knocking on the door, and Jerry said, "This air reminds me of back home. The way it stuck to you felt like a cruel punishment. Even these damned mosquitoes are just as fierce."Slapping one to smithereens was exactly what he was doing before admitting, "I think I have to give these here the edge."Brutus knocked on the door while calmly replying, "Yeah, they do seem to attack fiercely, sacrificing their lives like kamikazes just to feed their young, and to die without knowing they'll grow, a pity."They knocked harder now, with both contributing to the ruckus. "Klinton!"Just behind the wood that divided them, Klinton lay there, seemingly lifeless, but the ruckus his comrades caused slowly respirited him. Opening his eyes was essential, and so he wiped the mucus that permeated them, because it rendered his sight temporarily useless. However, his ears worked fine because the noise from beating of the door could not be ignored. Klinton finally got out of bed to throw on his work outfit. It wasn't actually a uniform, but pieces of clothing he felt comfortable in.He opened the door casually, a groggy look upon his face. He seemed annoyed."Its time to work! Man, let's get up! Klinton! Klinton!" Jerry continued in an enthused manner."I'm up, damn it! Just because y'all are workaholics, don't make me one. Shit! I just do my job, and I'm Audi-5000," Klinton said fiercely. "I'll bet you didn't have a problem getting old Mr. Outback up! Did you Brut? Hell no!"Klinton uttered smoothly and directly. With a grim look upon his face, he said, "That's because you're used to being awakened by a filthy male bird, to remind you of your chores, to feed your swine and milk your bull's mate. I didn't have the luxury growing up sailing boats and building engines with sire and siblings. Mine was astray anyway, Brut! What's on the agenda?""You know what Klinton? You're crazy," Jerry replied.Brutus took note as he continued to lead them to their destination. "Listen up, gentlemen! There's an island, basically lying on the equator, southeast from here. Captain Briscoe will take us by chopper. This is where we will rendezvous with the science vessel, and of course board it and set sail."He grabbed Jerry's shoulder and reiterated, "Now this is where I need you. See, you have to sail us down the Amazon about a hundred and fifty miles southwest from our current position. This is where we reach the corner where the river splits, and also the spot where we will drop anchor. I guess a half mile or so off coast. It may be better to take smaller boats and view the coastline in that manner. Five square miles should be sufficient, so splitting up should yield faster results."The men watched Brutus as he rambled on and hardly even noticed Jerry's interjection. "Well Brutus, are you sure we can split up? I mean, will both crews know exactly what we are looking for? It's only the three of us. He's the surveyor," he said, pointing swiftly and hastening to make his point. "You're the damn mathematician, or whatever. The engineer, excuse me! I'm just a boat captain."Klinton grabbed Jerry's shoulder and replied, "And a damn good one!"Brutus looked as if he could not disagree, he calmed the men with his soft and murky voice. "I guess it would appear we are a little undermanned. I wonder if Captain Briscoe has any qualifications to assist us."Klinton replied, "Brutus, me and you can go on separate boats. I pretty much know what you're looking for. I may not be a civil engineer, but working with you for eight years has developed my skills."Brutus replied in the same calm and easy manner. "I guess you're right. I have taught you well..."Klinton interrupted smoothly, "Yes you have! I only have an associate of science in surveying and mapping, but working with you, I've learned a lot.""What do you expect? I have a way of rubbing my talents off on my workers. It could be the equivalent of a doctoral program. Maybe when I retire I'll..."Jerry was quiet for a moment, but couldn't help but interrupt. "That's all fine and dandy, Mr. Teacher and Pupil, but I'm the only navigator. Does Briscoe operate boats?"Klinton blurted, "I really don't know who this Briscoe guy is."Brutus did know and explained to his workers. "I think he has a few skills under his belt. I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be a problem to operate a small motorboat. In fact, from what I hear, he's quite skilled, possibly a hit man for Richard.""You think!""I'm just kidding, he's just a good handy man."The leader of the group explained the plan, especially to Klinton. He had to be sure Klinton would analyze the shores exactly as they should be analyzed. This was all done, and Brutus now advised them of the arrangements."OK Klinton! You and Jerry take the east bank, traveling south. Briscoe and I will take the north shore traveling west. We may need to travel up to five miles down river."Brutus used his two-way radio to alert Briscoe of their readiness. He also wanted to explain that they needed his help. Briscoe was OK with that. He was in fact being paid well by Richard.The three men waited for Briscoe at the helicopter. Briscoe was actually consulting with Richard while Brutus and his crew waited."They need your help," declared Richard. He continued on in a pumped-up manner. "Actually, I need to be getting the rest of the crew set. You go ahead. Brutus knows exactly what to do. I'm going to get Andrew and Susie, just help them out with whatever they need. By the time your crew is finished we should already be there."Briscoe ran off to meet the men who waited for him, and Richard turned the opposite direction to get his crew ready to go. He rounded them up quickly, advising them to meet in the helicopter field.Already in those fields, Jerry was saying, "I think that might be that Briscoe guy." They stared the best they could into the rising South American sun at the man that approached them. The humidity could be measured using only your skin, and the sphere now above the horizon made it evident that there was a blistering day to come. As early as it was, the crew still had to shade their eyes for Briscoe was traveling west.He approached them rapidly with the old man's tower just behind him. The little man in fact watched on."I'm Briscoe," he said bluntly while reaching out his hand.Brutus accepted his hand and replied, "Brutus! This is my crew, Jerry and Klinton."They looked each other eye-to-eye before Jerry halted the standoff. "OK gentlemen! Are we ready? I hope you're a good pilot."Brutus and Briscoe separated themselves from Jerry's seeming touchiness."That I am. I hope you're as good at whatever it is you do.""The best," said Jerry, but before he could say anything else."Concentrate men. We have work to do," Brutus replied.Klinton said nothing, just wanting the job to be over. The amount of his pay even slipped his mind. Jerry looked at Klinton and joked, "Why aren't you saying anything, boy? Yah getting scared?"Amusement followed, but after that comments spilled from Klinton's lips instantly. "I told you. I just want to do my job. All that yibber-yabber, I really don't need. So if you'll excuse me, I need to concentrate on what I was thinking about.""Whooah... The man is...""Let's go, men. We need to get this chopper headed for the island."They complied with those commands, and off they flew."I told you gentlemen, we had to hurry because it will take us several hours to get to the spot. This time does not include the job we have to do once we get there," exclaimed Brutus.Briscoe flew the chopper undisturbed, but Klinton responded to Brutus's previous reminder. "OK Brut! We are on the way. No need to huff and puff."As Jerry listened he couldn't help but add his own two cents. "Yeah Brutus! We're the best you got. Shit man, we're all you got! We'll get the job done!" He slapped his hands on Brutus's shoulder."Well, I hope so, because it pays a lot of money.""Oh yeah," drawled Jerry in a deep and groggy country accent.Klinton said, "I don't care about the money! I just want to get the work done and get home. Unfortunately enough, I work with you lunatics. Jerry! I don't know what you are so excited about, because Brutus is going to pay you whatever he wants. Shit, we work for him."Jerry wasn't fond of Klinton's prior comments. He had a disappointed look upon his face as he replied, "Brutus! We haven't discussed pay. I know we're salaried, but this isn't no ordinary job."Brutus was obviously annoyed, but he did not look Jerry's way and responded casually to his comments. "This really is not a good time to be discussing salaries. We need to be concentrating on the work at hand. But, to keep your minds at ease, there will be huge bonus incentives for a job well done."Jerry and Klinton looked at Brutus as if he had spoken uncivil words. Klinton didn't give a damn—he was used to Brutus and his impudence. That is why he set his mind on just getting the job done.Klinton gazed out of the chopper's window and felt deeply that he didn't belong here, and he was certain that he really didn't care to be here. "I've been coerced!" He thought.Jerry's actions were similar, but his thoughts were manifested verbally. "Is that the type of response you give? I'm out here... like Crocodile Dundee, slash Tarzan, some type of hybrid because I navigate boats, and I get an answer like that about my money? I thought we were better than that! We didn't even get a chance to talk about money. Forget, you called us in the wee hours of the morning and came just short of demanding our presence or our jobs were suspect. Oh, I'll give you a good job alright, but first, me and you must talk."Silence loomed for a few moments before Jerry continued his raving. Looking at Klinton, he said, "You believe this...""Sit your happy ass down," declared Klinton, growing impatient with the noise.Captain Briscoe looked back at Jerry and felt a little compassion. His empathy was because Jerry wanted proper compensation, and who could argue with that? As he brought the chopper down, Briscoe decided to comment only on the fact that he intended to land.The landing and the following journey went smoothly, which led them to a well-equipped science vessel that made Jerry extremely excited. Neglecting to help the others check off all needed supplies, he quickly familiarized himself with the helm. He found touring the entire boat an ongoing thrill. He now understood who it was that he was working for. To supply such a vessel proved that Richard was a man of means indeed.He thought hard now, "I need to talk to Brutus! Money like this..." Jerry immediately searched for Brutus to discuss his salary further.Brutus was not far off, just at the other end of the vessel. He was setting up scopes and measuring equipment for the landscape. The vessel was large enough to carry three emergency boats, two had a motor and the other was a wooden paddle boat. This particular boat hung in the back of the vessel, and the motorboats hung on opposite sides."Excuse me... Brutus! Can we talk?""Sure! What is it plaguing your mind?""Well, I'm sure you know my concerns. I'm far away from home, and I don't know the dangers this job might entail. Look man! We're all the way out here! Do you see more than just duty?"Jerry continued to rave on, not giving his boss much time to speak. Finally, Brutus did satisfy Jerry after advising him of his pay. It wasn't really what could have been, or should have been, but Jerry was not keen to current labor trends. Nevertheless, it was more than he had been accustomed to. He was eager to sail now, and that's what the crew did.CHAPTER FOURTEEN: NEW EVIDENCEAt the precinct, Edward and Gary sat at their respective desks and assumed they were alone. Everyone was either on duty or at lunch or somewhere else deep in precinct confines, except Rick Powers. He was walking down the hall towards the gentlemen.Gary looked up at Edward and said, "Where are you going? I'm going with you."Edward looked at him sternly. "Shhhh!!!" His index finger split his lips dead center and pointed to the sky. He moved as close as possible to Mr. Stevens and said, "I don't want this to leak."Around the corner, that very statement halted Rick Powers. Rick wanted to know what wasn't supposed to be known. He eased alongside the wall and tried honing his hearing.Edward whispered to Gary once more, "I'm leaving before noon. I have a hunch that, even if Richard didn't kill someone, he knows a lot about it."Edward got even closer to whisper again, with even more reduction in volume. Rick tried hard to hear more, but the whispers became vague since the first comments. Richard changed his mind on going into the room with Edward and Gary, especially after hearing some portion of the scheme. He turned one hundred and eighty degrees to head down the previously trotted path, eager to reach George Gunther's office.Barging into the captain's office was never a good idea, but he was intoxicated with hot news. Gunther looked up, startled, and declared bluntly, "Oh, this had better be good." Gunther held his hand over the receiver of the phone. It was obvious that his patience were wearing thin with his subordinate.Rick clumsily carried himself into the captain's office with the thinnest of breath. "Captain, Captain," said Rick with excitement. "I heard Edward saying something about Richard.""Well! What did he say?""He said something about Richard murdering someone, and he didn't want anyone to know."Gunther looked intrigued by the information just given to him. "You're excused, Powers."Gunther wondered what Edward hadn't reported. "Murder, that's absurd!" thought Gunther, but what if Edward really had something.Captain Gunther told the person he was speaking to that he'd call them back, then called an authority within the precinct. The two collaborated on a plan. The first step was to call Edward into his office. He buzzed Edward at his desk, "Let me see you please, Mr. Pullins."Edward looked at Gary and both were puzzled by the sudden summons. Edward headed for Gunther's office with butterflies tingling within his stomach. He walked hesitantly down the hall, wondering what Gunther could want with him. Edward slipped the door open as if regret gave him the power to do so.As soon as he was fully inside Gunther's office, he was consumed with an anxiously heavy voice. "I called to notify you of a change."Edward was baffled but responded in a tempered manner. "What change?""I'm taking you off the case.""What?! What the hell is going on?" Edward's rage was nearly not containable. "Why am I being... what reason do you have for pulling me?" Edward stuttered with his speech, but he continued on frantically pleading his case. "What have I done? I don't understand.""It's not for you to understand. I've just decided to make a change. I feel someone else would fit better on this case. Besides, you haven't gotten anywhere with the case yet, have you?"Edward snarled and blurted, "No! I haven't, but who in the hell will be better than me."Gunther ignored Edward's last comments and said, "Are you sure there is nothing else to report about this case?""No there isn't!""Hmm... Well, to answer your question, I'll make an announcement when I see fit. You're dismissed."Edward was stunned and it delayed him from leaving the captain's office. When he did leave, he made sure that the door was slammed behind him. Edward's rage now boiled over. Before he could get back to his desk, he noticed fellow officers going through his files. Gary sat and watched with astonishment."Hey Edward, man! I asked them what they were doing, but they continued on as if I wasn't here."Edward watched Gary through the corner of his eyes to hear him out, but most of his attention was drawn to the exploiting officers. "What the hell are y'all doing, Mike! Pete! What's going on?"Detective Mike Sasson looked up and responded as if he owed his colleague nothing. "We are seizing all records for the Dickenson case, by order of the captain."Gary and Edward stood there shocked, but it didn't stop Edward from declaring rudely, "This is bullshit!" Then he stormed out the door.The humidity was far from letting up, for it had just begun. The crew who shuttled the science vessel experienced this from front row seats. Jerry stood tall in front of the boat where he steered and enjoyed the view. Briscoe and Klinton sat in the quarters and played cards, while Brutus walked alongside the boat railing checking out different views. They were a ways from their destination, so any view now was just recreational.The helicopter crew had already caught up with the departed science vessel in no time. Susie Kemp's aircraft lead the way, with Richard and her husband close behind. Their flights were going smoothly, and besides the choppers' ruckus, you could hear small talk. Richard didn't have much to say, because he dealt primarily with Brutus Salapore. He in turn was the point of this entire trip. It so happened that he needed extra pilots for the extra men Brutus would need. The premonition of the professor's skills coming in handy was the reason he felt the need for this man's services. The FBI crew was considered a buffer for his protection, but uncertainty set in fiercely and was the cause for his dense thoughts.What was about to occur was truly the unknown, and that fact heightened Richard's every sensation. Nevertheless, Richard did not restrict his pilots from proceeding. In his mind, all he needed was for Brutus to write the report, even if it was exaggerated. That was the driving force for his eagerness, and nothing seemed to be able to stop him. At least that is what he believed, especially since he could pay whatever price was necessary to get what he needed."So, Andrew! That is your name, right?""Yes it is," responded the pilot sarcastically."I'm sorry, I'm not good with names. So I see your wife is a pretty good pilot. She's really flying that baby."He noticed her because she led the way to a sharp left turn. They were just about ready to land. It wasn't that short of a ride, and they were all ready to stretch out their stiffness.One of the FBI agents blurted, "Damn, we're not there yet?"Kyser Finley rode in the chopper with Andrew and Richard and heard the comments his fellow mates made clearly. It wasn't a problem until the same agent continued to blabber. "You know what, this is extreme! If we weren't making what you are paying us Mr. Rich guy, there's no way I would be on this trip, not for a penny less."Kyser Finley immediately responded to the last comment. "Now that's not appropriate to say."Richard said, "Oh no, that's OK! I like a man that is concerned about his money. That reminds me of me. You see how I'm able to pay all of you? Sure the hell is not by not worrying about my money. You see, this is why I'm out here. This project will leave me strikingly rich, allow me to reach another level in which you all become peasants. My goal is to be number one in the funds department."Richard sat back indulging in the silence his listeners now bathed him in. Then he continued, "You know I do a little flying myself. Maybe we need to take three choppers so we can race.""Just make sure I'm not a passenger!" Klinton replied meaningfully."It's just about time to land," Andrew indicated to Richard. Susie made that apparent as her helicopter dipped severely, and Andrew followed her same procedure. It was difficult to land because the jungle was very thick and would not cooperate. To find clearance was difficult because they didn't arrive at the already prepared landing field. Susie had drifted off course a little, but even so, the previously prepared area would be difficult to land in due to the thick trees. Andrew followed his wife's trajectory to a tee, until receiving a radio transmission."What is it baby?""This spot ahead is clear of trees, like a little patch, and it seems to be flat ground. I'm going to land here.""Roger that!"They landed the choppers on soft ground, and had to walk about 200 meters to the camp that was built by the late Gary Russy.Drifting along in the beautifully equipped boat, Jerry shouted, "There's land just ahead of us."Brutus approached Jerry to give him instructions. "Jerry! Sail the boat right along there."He pointed exactly where he wanted and Jerry comprehended quite well. The next step was to drop anchor, for this was a good spot. A continuous scrape and rattle sounded loudly from beneath the boat, and before you knew it the boat was idle. The men quickly released the two motorboats."You think we should release the reserve boat?" Klinton asked.Jerry said no, but Klinton had already started to untie the boat. Klinton did stop, but had neglected to tie the boat back tightly, and the inevitable was for the safety boat to drift away. For now it seemed secure, so the men paid no attention. They were more interested in loading the motorboats with the equipment they needed. All supplies were loaded, and it was now time to survey the land, and map the shores.Briscoe and Brutus cranked their motor as soon as they were fully loaded. They were floating away from the sun because it was a little after noon and they sailed west. Jerry and Klinton headed south. The science vessel pointed directly towards the land that looked like a pointer itself, because that is where it split the river in two. It was the main reason one crew went west and the other went south.Brutus had his boat moving smoothly while Jerry and Klinton barely qualified as being setup. Brutus looked back at what he could see of the science vessel. "They are just leaving. Why are they so damned slow? Looks like they let the emergency boat free. I don't know why? They don't need the damn thing."He seemed annoyed, and it carried over to Briscoe. "What Brutus? They weren't supposed to?""I don't know what for—they don't need it."Briscoe shook his head in disbelief and continued on with his westward survey.Jerry and Klinton finally got going after scuffling over petty matters. The two always bickered; however, their friendship allowed it to be humorous sarcasm in content."Goddamn it! Klinton, let me drive the boat.""You're not the only one who can drive a simple motorboat. Just because you're a self-proclaimed captain don't mean a damn thing to me.""Ahh... put a sock in it," replied Jerry. He continued his defense in their war of words. "You just survey the fucking land while I boat on."Several hours had come to pass, Brutus and Briscoe's trip went fine in the meantime. They worked well together and got much accomplished. In fact, they were just about to turn around and head back for the science vessel.Things weren't so speedy for Jerry and Klinton. During their several hours of conflict, they managed only half the work their counterparts produced. It was at least another hour before they could turn around and head back to the big ship. At that rendezvous point, things were undisturbed, except for the reserve boat that slowly drifted away. It floated slowly downstream southward, and if Brutus saw this it would outrage him just because he knew the two could hardly get anything done together.The boat continued down the river southbound, and nothing was stopping its departure. It did not float fast, but briskly enough. No motor nor sails powered it, but the strong river currents moved everything else and it was no exception.Even though it had been hours, Jerry and Klinton still tangled with each other about every little thing. They had argued about Jerry going too fast and Jerry going too slow. The bickering also resulted in Klinton inadvertently hitting Jerry in the head with the equipment he was using. A hard clump with a scope was enough for Jerry."Will you watch where the hell you're going with that?""I could if you keep the damn boat still!""I don't see you driving it, do I?""I tried to remember, but you wanted to make yourself useful for a change.""That's the problem with you people. You learn how to do something and you get careless and think you know everything."Klinton was not fond of those comments, and stared with a sharp and short-tempered glare, responding in a hyperventilated manner. "What the fuck... did you say... you people!"Then Klinton carelessly mishandled the scope, blundering into Jerry's head again."Goddamn it," Jerry shouted in tremendous discomfort. He jumped up at Klinton. In defense, Klinton lunged to grab Jerry in an effort to slow him to a halt. However, that did not work the way he wanted. They locked up in a bear hug, both trying to do something that was unclear. The uncertainty of their tussling loomed large since they had little room on their four-party boat. Usually, when two men tussle, it is meant for one to overturn the other. That is what happened, but who overturned who was not clear, because both went overboard.The two remained entangled causing a large splash in the water. A deep plunge into the deep trenches of the Amazon was the last thing on their minds. Winning the entanglement was the first thought, but when they finally reached the surface of the water their feelings had changed. They both gasped for air as they came up, and Jerry shouted, "Shit, oh shit..."His shouts weren't because they had fallen into the water. He was used to that, but it was what Klinton stared at so hard. He even seemed stunned from the view, and for that, Jerry continued his raving. "Help, what we gonna do?"Klinton said nothing for the moment, but used that energy instead to tread water. He still couldn't stop looking at what was before him."Klinton, man save me, shit. I didn't mean it.""It's your fucking fault," Klinton shouted, but he said no more for he knew his energy would be needed.On the other hand, Brutus and Briscoe were on the way back to the science vessel to record their information. "I hope those gentlemen are about on their way back," Brutus exclaimed.Briscoe listened and offered comforting suggestions. "Well, I'm sure they are right on schedule.""Hmmm...," Brutus muttered in a not-so-convinced manner. "Knowing them two... Hmmm... you don't know them two.""Relax, Brutus! We are here to make a little money, and at least we are in the tropics. Just look at it as a vacation."Brutus looked at Briscoe with an unappealing smirk that had disgust written all over it. "I hardly call this a vacation," replied the engineer while slapping the life out of a life-sucking insect."Well, I'm sure you can't disagree that the money's good.""You're right, I won't deny that."A momentary pause set in, just about a second. "Oh shit!!!" Briscoe shouted while barely holding onto the side of the boat. Brutus had a tight grip, with both hands clutched to the boat's rails opposite of each other. The boat took a large jolt.Brutus calmed the situation, declaring, "We got hit by a serious wave, or maybe the current, or something." The boat did however stay afloat and continued along its original path.As they moved along the murky waters, their senses felt like they were in overdrive. Briscoe's eyes were keen, because he noticed a boat ahead. It seemed similar in size to the one he was on, but maybe his perception was disrupted from the overuse of his senses."Look Brutus! That looks like Jerry and Klinton but they are supposed to be on their way back to the science vessel... I...I don't think anyone's on that boat. The motor is running and it's headed right for us."The men shouted and kicked into overdrive in an attempt to get out of the way of the runaway. It was an exhilarating experience, not to mention there was no one seemingly here to save them because they were a bit short on the lifeguards. Because their deadline was short, they gave no effort to catch the runaway. Instead they continued on their course for the science vessel.Intrigue and suspense dominated the two men. "I wonder how in the hell could they manage that. Probably fooling around with that other boat, and messed around a lost... the fucking boat."Briscoe softly replied, "I hope they are not overboard. These waters are filled with things North America has yet to see."Brutus seemed worried, and pushed the boat as fast as it would go. In no time they had reached the science vessel. "Think we should check the boat.""I don't think they are on the boat. Something tells me they're out there somewhere. I knew something was strange when they released that emergency boat. What in the hell are they up to? Now they lost the most valuable one. I told you, you don't know these dimwits."They began to speed off towards the south.There was no more bickering and fussing between Jerry and Klinton, because they concentrated on saving their lives. Klinton yelled as softly as he can, "Just be quiet and still.""I's tired of treading. What are we going to do?" whined Jerry."I don't know, damn it. Just swim."Klinton did just that, and very fast. He thought he could reach the science vessel by swimming, but he was wrong, because to swim two miles or so would be extremely tiresome. If, in fact, he made it that far before being eaten. There were definitely things lurking that would love to eat him. They weren't bleeding was a plus, but the havoc they made trying to swim was not. It proved to be an extreme negative, when their initial plunge disturbed a nearby crocodile that was absolutely territorial."I'm tired of swimming, Klinton!""Stop crying and swim. I can't carry your ass. Shit, I'm tired too, but what? Are you gone give up and just sink.""No! I'm swimming toward shore. It must be some ways ahead. It's shorter to land."Klinton stopped for a moment and tread water in place. He glanced toward shore, noticing it probably was closer but still a stint. The fact that the rugged shoreline resembled swampland was also noticed, and Klinton realized the difficulty of maneuvering trying to get ashore. Without notification, Klinton continued to swim northward.Jerry started for shore just as quickly as Klinton, but their paths were perpendicular. They both were extremely tired, nearly causing them to surrender to the river's demands. However, they both had fight left in them and continued on.The disturbed reptile got more and more agitated. Jerry splashed heavily, and strikingly close to his territory. The prehistoric lizard could swim fast, and Jerry was an intruder and something had to be done. The lizard beast lunged his intimidating jaws out at Jerry and chomps down forcefully.Klinton was continuing to swim and leaving Jerry far behind. He appeared now to be swimming at some distorted angle, heading directly towards what appeared to be a boat. He swam fast and aggressively because, if he didn't, the tiredness would set in. Finally reaching the boat, he climbed in clumsily. He was ever so tired, and he didn't even think about Jerry just yet. He had to recover from the exhaustion of swimming and treading.A loud shriek echoed, and Klinton jumped out of his recuperating status and began to row towards Jerry's distress call. A near miss with the alligator sent Jerry underwater briefly, but he managed to pull himself above water. He quickly tried to swim away from the dinner menu. Chance was in his favor for the beast had already eaten a hearty meal. The prime reason for striking out at Jerry was for the protection of his territory.Nevertheless, Jerry swam ahead, to the north where his partner had gone. It was a panic swim, but he did reach his comrade halfway."Jerry, Jerry, hold on," yelled Klinton ecstatically. He reached over to pull Jerry aboard."Oh shit, oh my goodness," Jerry said through his panting. He was exhausted but happy to be alive. Fortunate for them both, they were safely aboard the runaway reserve boat. There time wasn't now, but it had been a particularly close call for Jerry. They rowed away soaking wet."Thanks Klint, man! I thought you might leave me.""Oh no, then I could pester you. Even though you say some foul shit, you still my friend. We have a job to do besides that, and I can't do it without you.""Hey! Thanks man, you're right. We have money to make."Klinton looked at Jerry as if to say that all the previous comments were simply forgotten.Just ahead, again Briscoe's keen eyes were put to test. Briscoe informed Brutus of his detection of a moving object before them. Brutus rose cautiously trying not to shake the boat."I think that's a boat," said the captain.Brutus added his verbal contribution slickly, "It appears I am correct in my assumption." The captain was not clear what these comments meant. Brutus sensed that and continued, saying, "I believe we've found our distressees, and why they gave up the motorboat for that row boat is unapparent. I told you, these two together...""So how in the hell did you manage that?" asked Brutus, as soon as they were within hearing. He turned to Briscoe, but still commented on the quicksilver his two employees produced. "Now, tell me! How in the hell do you manage that? You see... didn't I warn you, Briscoe... These guys are nincompoops. So, let's hear it. How in the hell did this happen, you're all wet... Oh, I'm eager to hear this!"Brutus had spoken erratically while Briscoe watched on. The two alleged dimwits spoke out simultaneously. "I, We...""Can I hear one at a time, or better yet! I do not want to hear a thing. Just make sure you row that boat all the way back. Follow us and you better not fall behind. We are not a search team, so try not to get lost. We may not be able to come search for you."Brutus cranked his motor and headed west. He was on his way to the campsite to meet Richard.Klinton and Jerry watched them pull away briskly, and hustled to begin rowing behind them. "Come on! We need to keep up.""I'm rowing as fast as I can. I know your weak ass ain't talking. Don't act like you on the all kayaking team, rowing your ass down wild white water rapids. You forgot, all you good for is headaches and sailboats. But when it comes time to depend on your physique, we're in trouble."The two rowed on even though Brutus and Briscoe were no longer in their sights. As it became impossible for them to see their co-workers, Jerry's face became longer, even speaking of his demeanor to Klinton."You know Klinton, something's real funny, you know. I've been feeling strange." A small stutter followed before Jerry finished stamping his complaints. "I mean we're supposed to make all this money, and I think Brutus said something about a small partnership in whatever he's building out here... and why did he pick all the way out here anyway? Isn't that funny! Goddamn it, everything's funny around here."Klinton had heard Jerry gracefully and wanted to respond eagerly. He did so, and with a motivational tone comically delivered. "Shit! You just almost got your ass ate by an alligator. I'd feel funny too, but I told you! I don't wanna be here. First off, it's damn near winter, but I'll be damned if they heard of that around here. It was hot as fish grease when you all woke me up, and what time was that? No telling what time zone we're in. Shit, you're the sailor. Can't you look up at the stars or something and tell me where we are."Klinton looked up at the piercing sun receiving the best view, because on the water the trees were wedged away. It nearly blinded him. "I guess not. Well, can you look at the sun and tell me what time it is... I would say it's about some time around after noonish, since the sun is just above us."Jerry listened casually, because he was amazed by the conglomerations of the trees on both sides of him.Klinton again asked, "What do you say about that?"Jerry snapped out of his visual entrapment and gave Klinton a submissive response. "Yeah sure."Jerry, not fully free of his observational engagement, watched on while ignoring Klinton's efforts to get him to help row. Nevertheless, they carried on slowly down the river.CHAPTER FIFTEEN: INTO THE BASINThe night had conquered day entirely and the stars were no longer restricted from view. The detectives escorted Nick home and turned in themselves soon after. Many of Richard's crew had turned in because they had a busy morning as well.All sounds of nature creeped, and made their distinctions by vociferating broadly about the forest. If one were to tour the forest at this time, he might find the surroundings exhilarating, but not if he was a native to the surroundings. The indigenous people had a bond with the forest, and so did the plant and animal life. This bond was so strong that the presence of foreigners was immediately recognized by the forest dwellers. This was a fact to the ancients because they believed every plant and animal on earth was designed to flow according to the laws of nature. They also believed that nature was expressed in the form of spirit, which were pure energy and consciousness absent physical form. Every living thing had spirit: plants, animals, and even humans, who are also animals.A spirit with good intentions could sense a spirit with bad intentions. The crew was instantly sensed, especially because their intentions weren't exactly soaked in holiness. They wanted to destroy life for their own personal gain, and this was a direct blasphemy of life itself. Anyone who could commit such vandalism couldn't believe what the ancients believed. They knew for a fact that the earth was alive and represented the mother of life.The modern-day members of the tribe hadn't been in touch with their ancestral knowledge for quite some time. Most of what they knew was passed down through oral storytelling. Even though some of their ancestors' cities had survived the ages, they had no access to them. Not that any tribal member would be able to read anything from those times, but most of the records had been destroyed anyway. This very fact caused their beliefs to become distorted and incomplete. However, the foundation of their beliefs remained intact, such as spirituality, sorcery, and nature having God-like tendencies.It is believed that these people made the forest their permanent homes when the Europeans first colonized the West. There were even ancient texts that indicated the arrival of these Europeans would mark cursed times for their people. After generations, it is understandable how one could lose their civilized traits. However, it seemed they resorted to what their ancestors would have wanted. That is to live on the land and flow peacefully with nature.That is what they did for thousands of years, with their immaculate cities of gold and designer stone, sturdy as a continent and thus still standing even to this day. The cities also resembled alignments that complimented the stars victoriously.The curse was brought upon us to remember where we came from. In the old days, kingdoms got grand, because now that they were civilized and had amassed an enormous amount of culture, but they forgot where they came from. So now the curse would return them to the state in which they came, and they would now appreciate the next time the world was under their direction.The curse has gotten out of hand. The lands that were once relied upon to evolve a civilized people were threatened by a worldwide epidemic. So, the spirits were called upon, and by chance, all parties setting foot on ancient soil were now asleep. There were chants of high praise. They were loud, as evil was near.It was time, and in the deep expanses of the soon-to-be-explored forest lurked eyes that belonged to animals of all types, but how many and what kinds was impossible to know. Exactly how many belonged to fleeing descendants of those ancestors was also unknown. There are said to be many groups that speak languages unknown to modern civilization. However, these languages may be related to others that are known by outsiders, to similar dialects, and the professor specialized in language, but his skills were no guarantee that his companions would be able to communicate with the people they found.In the vicinity of the project site were a few of those people whose language was unknown to outsiders. They danced around enormous trees and appeared to be trying to communicate with them, for they believed that the tree is the wisest living thing on earth. Everything about the lifecycle of a tree can be translated into human life experiences. They also believed the tree could be spoken to telepathically. Through certain sounds and vibrations produced with mouth and instruments, the tree was called upon for protection.This is what was happening, and the vibration got very loud, penetrating the dream state. Everyone who stepped foot on this soil had an immense flash during their REM, and the entire crew was affected, some worse than others. Joe's image invaded Richard's nightmares, and it too flashed intensely. Nick had felt deep sorrow for his friends and waved goodbye to them. He was slowly carried away by a mysterious force; however, his eagerness to leave was nil.Edward rolled over in his sleep several times. He was suddenly and rudely awakened by Richard's image flashing in his mind. He sat up worrying upon the night sky, pondering heavily on why this had appeared to him. Could he really be dreaming about a man he doesn't know? He passed it off as anxiousness and laid his head back down. Tiredness crept inside of him, and it was more than sleepiness that drew him back to sleep so quickly.The night carried on fierce in spirit, and the elements brewed in strength and terror. The forces of nature in this part of the world were thought to be spirits, and spirits could be called upon. This has been depicted in many cultures and communicated in multiple shapes of diverse distinctiveness. Even unsuspecting cultures have these ideas secretly placed to program the children. One example is the X-Men comic book superhero, "Storm." Her abilities to call upon nature's wrath and direct them in the purposes of her self-defense proves just that. Even the brave, beloved, and bizarre Tarzan, who beat the odds and survived being raised by animals, to eventually obtain an essence and spiritual unity with nature unheard of by modern-day man, is such an example.Nevertheless, your heart must be clean and sincere to now step foot on ancient property.The sun pierced the eastern horizon and the radiance from its rays were slightly visible. Muggy indeed was the air that seemed to hug you tight. The sun assisted, began to pound and sting like razor-sharp clippers performing a close edge. The first individual to bear those strenuous conditions was Brutus Salapore. It did not fail, he was immediately drawn to the work planned for the day. They had to get up early anyway. He was to take the boat with Jerry and Klinton. Their first job was to scan the bank where the river split to flow west and south. Getting on shore was the second objective.Brutus had to give a report to the investors as to the sufficiency of building such a structure. To do so he had to trek the jungle and decide how to go about producing this envisioned design. He walked out the door of his sleeping quarters to raise Jerry and Klinton.Jerry had been up smoking a Salem while scarfing down black coffee. He was used to getting up early back on his Louisiana farm, which was where he acquired his talent to navigate—coasting the Mississippi River and Lake Bruin honed his skills."Early to rise makes a man healthy and wise! Well good morning to you Brutus."The whole while Jerry smiled ecstatically, but Brutus walked on past, replying gracefully. "Yeah Jerry. We have a lot of work to do."Jerry followed along to gather their final team member. Salapore briefed Jerry on their way to Klinton's room. They halted briefly before knocking on the door, and Jerry said, "This air reminds me of back home. The way it stuck to you felt like a cruel punishment. Even these damned mosquitoes are just as fierce."Slapping one to smithereens was exactly what he was doing before admitting, "I think I have to give these here the edge."Brutus knocked on the door while calmly replying, "Yeah, they do seem to attack fiercely, sacrificing their lives like kamikazes just to feed their young, and to die without knowing they'll grow, a pity."They knocked harder now, with both contributing to the ruckus. "Klinton!"Just behind the wood that divided them, Klinton lay there, seemingly lifeless, but the ruckus his comrades caused slowly respirited him. Opening his eyes was essential, and so he wiped the mucus that permeated them, because it rendered his sight temporarily useless. However, his ears worked fine because the noise from beating of the door could not be ignored. Klinton finally got out of bed to throw on his work outfit. It wasn't actually a uniform, but pieces of clothing he felt comfortable in.He opened the door casually, a groggy look upon his face. He seemed annoyed."Its time to work! Man, let's get up! Klinton! Klinton!" Jerry continued in an enthused manner."I'm up, damn it! Just because y'all are workaholics, don't make me one. Shit! I just do my job, and I'm Audi-5000," Klinton said fiercely. "I'll bet you didn't have a problem getting old Mr. Outback up! Did you Brut? Hell no!"Klinton uttered smoothly and directly. With a grim look upon his face, he said, "That's because you're used to being awakened by a filthy male bird, to remind you of your chores, to feed your swine and milk your bull's mate. I didn't have the luxury growing up sailing boats and building engines with sire and siblings. Mine was astray anyway, Brut! What's on the agenda?""You know what Klinton? You're crazy," Jerry replied.Brutus took note as he continued to lead them to their destination. "Listen up, gentlemen! There's an island, basically lying on the equator, southeast from here. Captain Briscoe will take us by chopper. This is where we will rendezvous with the science vessel, and of course board it and set sail."He grabbed Jerry's shoulder and reiterated, "Now this is where I need you. See, you have to sail us down the Amazon about a hundred and fifty miles southwest from our current position. This is where we reach the corner where the river splits, and also the spot where we will drop anchor. I guess a half mile or so off coast. It may be better to take smaller boats and view the coastline in that manner. Five square miles should be sufficient, so splitting up should yield faster results."The men watched Brutus as he rambled on and hardly even noticed Jerry's interjection. "Well Brutus, are you sure we can split up? I mean, will both crews know exactly what we are looking for? It's only the three of us. He's the surveyor," he said, pointing swiftly and hastening to make his point. "You're the damn mathematician, or whatever. The engineer, excuse me! I'm just a boat captain."Klinton grabbed Jerry's shoulder and replied, "And a damn good one!"Brutus looked as if he could not disagree, he calmed the men with his soft and murky voice. "I guess it would appear we are a little undermanned. I wonder if Captain Briscoe has any qualifications to assist us."Klinton replied, "Brutus, me and you can go on separate boats. I pretty much know what you're looking for. I may not be a civil engineer, but working with you for eight years has developed my skills."Brutus replied in the same calm and easy manner. "I guess you're right. I have taught you well..."Klinton interrupted smoothly, "Yes you have! I only have an associate of science in surveying and mapping, but working with you, I've learned a lot.""What do you expect? I have a way of rubbing my talents off on my workers. It could be the equivalent of a doctoral program. Maybe when I retire I'll..."Jerry was quiet for a moment, but couldn't help but interrupt. "That's all fine and dandy, Mr. Teacher and Pupil, but I'm the only navigator. Does Briscoe operate boats?"Klinton blurted, "I really don't know who this Briscoe guy is."Brutus did know and explained to his workers. "I think he has a few skills under his belt. I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be a problem to operate a small motorboat. In fact, from what I hear, he's quite skilled, possibly a hit man for Richard.""You think!""I'm just kidding, he's just a good handy man."The leader of the group explained the plan, especially to Klinton. He had to be sure Klinton would analyze the shores exactly as they should be analyzed. This was all done, and Brutus now advised them of the arrangements."OK Klinton! You and Jerry take the east bank, traveling south. Briscoe and I will take the north shore traveling west. We may need to travel up to five miles down river."Brutus used his two-way radio to alert Briscoe of their readiness. He also wanted to explain that they needed his help. Briscoe was OK with that. He was in fact being paid well by Richard.The three men waited for Briscoe at the helicopter. Briscoe was actually consulting with Richard while Brutus and his crew waited."They need your help," declared Richard. He continued on in a pumped-up manner. "Actually, I need to be getting the rest of the crew set. You go ahead. Brutus knows exactly what to do. I'm going to get Andrew and Susie, just help them out with whatever they need. By the time your crew is finished we should already be there."Briscoe ran off to meet the men who waited for him, and Richard turned the opposite direction to get his crew ready to go. He rounded them up quickly, advising them to meet in the helicopter field.Already in those fields, Jerry was saying, "I think that might be that Briscoe guy." They stared the best they could into the rising South American sun at the man that approached them. The humidity could be measured using only your skin, and the sphere now above the horizon made it evident that there was a blistering day to come. As early as it was, the crew still had to shade their eyes for Briscoe was traveling west.He approached them rapidly with the old man's tower just behind him. The little man in fact watched on."I'm Briscoe," he said bluntly while reaching out his hand.Brutus accepted his hand and replied, "Brutus! This is my crew, Jerry and Klinton."They looked each other eye-to-eye before Jerry halted the standoff. "OK gentlemen! Are we ready? I hope you're a good pilot."Brutus and Briscoe separated themselves from Jerry's seeming touchiness."That I am. I hope you're as good at whatever it is you do.""The best," said Jerry, but before he could say anything else."Concentrate men. We have work to do," Brutus replied.Klinton said nothing, just wanting the job to be over. The amount of his pay even slipped his mind. Jerry looked at Klinton and joked, "Why aren't you saying anything, boy? Yah getting scared?"Amusement followed, but after that comments spilled from Klinton's lips instantly. "I told you. I just want to do my job. All that yibber-yabber, I really don't need. So if you'll excuse me, I need to concentrate on what I was thinking about.""Whooah... The man is...""Let's go, men. We need to get this chopper headed for the island."They complied with those commands, and off they flew."I told you gentlemen, we had to hurry because it will take us several hours to get to the spot. This time does not include the job we have to do once we get there," exclaimed Brutus.Briscoe flew the chopper undisturbed, but Klinton responded to Brutus's previous reminder. "OK Brut! We are on the way. No need to huff and puff."As Jerry listened he couldn't help but add his own two cents. "Yeah Brutus! We're the best you got. Shit man, we're all you got! We'll get the job done!" He slapped his hands on Brutus's shoulder."Well, I hope so, because it pays a lot of money.""Oh yeah," drawled Jerry in a deep and groggy country accent.Klinton said, "I don't care about the money! I just want to get the work done and get home. Unfortunately enough, I work with you lunatics. Jerry! I don't know what you are so excited about, because Brutus is going to pay you whatever he wants. Shit, we work for him."Jerry wasn't fond of Klinton's prior comments. He had a disappointed look upon his face as he replied, "Brutus! We haven't discussed pay. I know we're salaried, but this isn't no ordinary job."Brutus was obviously annoyed, but he did not look Jerry's way and responded casually to his comments. "This really is not a good time to be discussing salaries. We need to be concentrating on the work at hand. But, to keep your minds at ease, there will be huge bonus incentives for a job well done."Jerry and Klinton looked at Brutus as if he had spoken uncivil words. Klinton didn't give a damn—he was used to Brutus and his impudence. That is why he set his mind on just getting the job done.Klinton gazed out of the chopper's window and felt deeply that he didn't belong here, and he was certain that he really didn't care to be here. "I've been coerced!" He thought.Jerry's actions were similar, but his thoughts were manifested verbally. "Is that the type of response you give? I'm out here... like Crocodile Dundee, slash Tarzan, some type of hybrid because I navigate boats, and I get an answer like that about my money? I thought we were better than that! We didn't even get a chance to talk about money. Forget, you called us in the wee hours of the morning and came just short of demanding our presence or our jobs were suspect. Oh, I'll give you a good job alright, but first, me and you must talk."Silence loomed for a few moments before Jerry continued his raving. Looking at Klinton, he said, "You believe this...""Sit your happy ass down," declared Klinton, growing impatient with the noise.Captain Briscoe looked back at Jerry and felt a little compassion. His empathy was because Jerry wanted proper compensation, and who could argue with that? As he brought the chopper down, Briscoe decided to comment only on the fact that he intended to land.The landing and the following journey went smoothly, which led them to a well-equipped science vessel that made Jerry extremely excited. Neglecting to help the others check off all needed supplies, he quickly familiarized himself with the helm. He found touring the entire boat an ongoing thrill. He now understood who it was that he was working for. To supply such a vessel proved that Richard was a man of means indeed.He thought hard now, "I need to talk to Brutus! Money like this..." Jerry immediately searched for Brutus to discuss his salary further.Brutus was not far off, just at the other end of the vessel. He was setting up scopes and measuring equipment for the landscape. The vessel was large enough to carry three emergency boats, two had a motor and the other was a wooden paddle boat. This particular boat hung in the back of the vessel, and the motorboats hung on opposite sides."Excuse me... Brutus! Can we talk?""Sure! What is it plaguing your mind?""Well, I'm sure you know my concerns. I'm far away from home, and I don't know the dangers this job might entail. Look man! We're all the way out here! Do you see more than just duty?"Jerry continued to rave on, not giving his boss much time to speak. Finally, Brutus did satisfy Jerry after advising him of his pay. It wasn't really what could have been, or should have been, but Jerry was not keen to current labor trends. Nevertheless, it was more than he had been accustomed to. He was eager to sail now, and that's what the crew did.CHAPTER SIXTEEN: OVERBOARDThe other crew was being gathered by Richard Dickenson, alongside Kyser Finley. The two made small talk while waiting for the others. Andrew and Susie were the first to gather around Richard and Kyser."Hello, gentlemen," declared Susie with a delightful voice. She was this way because her spouse had his hands wrapped around her, and she continued to feel tremors from earlier that morning. The newlyweds truly had love, passion, and lust boiling within. They were unlike Jerry in that they were more informed as to their compensation. In fact, they just about doubled what Jerry managed to negotiate.Wesley and Adam approached, and they too were engaged in their own small talk. "Adam!" Wes hollered. "You ready to fly in this jungle, to watch a bunch of smartass engineers survey land? I think you're right—this must be the easiest, not to mention most, money I have ever made on a side job.""I think it's going to be pretty boring, if you ask me." Adam looked at Wesley as if he waited for a response."I guess you're right, but if the money's good..."They approached Kyser Finley and the others, where greetings were exchanged, and Roy and Pam finally dragged themselves along."OK, listen up! Once again, I would like to thank you all for being a part of this team. This shouldn't take long, two full days at the most. Then we are out of here. Obviously we need two choppers, so if I can break you two love birds up."He grabbed Susie Kemp and placed her on the opposite side of Andrew."Who's the best pilot?" asked Richard.They both hesitated before Susie exclaimed, "Why, of course, Andrew. Clearly, he taught me."Richard turned to Andrew and said, "I'm riding with you!" He proceeded to separate the team, and they boarded their respective helicopters.At the precinct, Edward and Gary sat at their respective desks and assumed they were alone. Everyone was either on duty or at lunch or somewhere else deep in precinct confines, except Rick Powers. He was walking down the hall towards the gentlemen.Gary looked up at Edward and said, "Where are you going? I'm going with you."Edward looked at him sternly. "Shhhh!!!" His index finger split his lips dead center and pointed to the sky. He moved as close as possible to Mr. Stevens and said, "I don't want this to leak."Around the corner, that very statement halted Rick Powers. Rick wanted to know what wasn't supposed to be known. He eased alongside the wall and tried honing his hearing.Edward whispered to Gary once more, "I'm leaving before noon. I have a hunch that, even if Richard didn't kill someone, he knows a lot about it."Edward got even closer to whisper again, with even more reduction in volume. Rick tried hard to hear more, but the whispers became vague since the first comments. Richard changed his mind on going into the room with Edward and Gary, especially after hearing some portion of the scheme. He turned one hundred and eighty degrees to head down the previously trotted path, eager to reach George Gunther's office.Barging into the captain's office was never a good idea, but he was intoxicated with hot news. Gunther looked up, startled, and declared bluntly, "Oh, this had better be good." Gunther held his hand over the receiver of the phone. It was obvious that his patience were wearing thin with his subordinate.Rick clumsily carried himself into the captain's office with the thinnest of breath. "Captain, Captain," said Rick with excitement. "I heard Edward saying something about Richard.""Well! What did he say?""He said something about Richard murdering someone, and he didn't want anyone to know."Gunther looked intrigued by the information just given to him. "You're excused, Powers."Gunther wondered what Edward hadn't reported. "Murder, that's absurd!" thought Gunther, but what if Edward really had something.Captain Gunther told the person he was speaking to that he'd call them back, then called an authority within the precinct. The two collaborated on a plan. The first step was to call Edward into his office. He buzzed Edward at his desk, "Let me see you please, Mr. Pullins."Edward looked at Gary and both were puzzled by the sudden summons. Edward headed for Gunther's office with butterflies tingling within his stomach. He walked hesitantly down the hall, wondering what Gunther could want with him. Edward slipped the door open as if regret gave him the power to do so.As soon as he was fully inside Gunther's office, he was consumed with an anxiously heavy voice. "I called to notify you of a change."Edward was baffled but responded in a tempered manner. "What change?""I'm taking you off the case.""What?! What the hell is going on?" Edward's rage was nearly not containable. "Why am I being... what reason do you have for pulling me?" Edward stuttered with his speech, but he continued on frantically pleading his case. "What have I done? I don't understand.""It's not for you to understand. I've just decided to make a change. I feel someone else would fit better on this case. Besides, you haven't gotten anywhere with the case yet, have you?"Edward snarled and blurted, "No! I haven't, but who in the hell will be better than me."Gunther ignored Edward's last comments and said, "Are you sure there is nothing else to report about this case?""No there isn't!""Hmm... Well, to answer your question, I'll make an announcement when I see fit. You're dismissed."Edward was stunned and it delayed him from leaving the captain's office. When he did leave, he made sure that the door was slammed behind him. Edward's rage now boiled over. Before he could get back to his desk, he noticed fellow officers going through his files. Gary sat and watched with astonishment."Hey Edward, man! I asked them what they were doing, but they continued on as if I wasn't here."Edward watched Gary through the corner of his eyes to hear him out, but most of his attention was drawn to the exploiting officers. "What the hell are y'all doing, Mike! Pete! What's going on?"Detective Mike Sasson looked up and responded as if he owed his colleague nothing. "We are seizing all records for the Dickenson case, by order of the captain."Gary and Edward stood there shocked, but it didn't stop Edward from declaring rudely, "This is bullshit!" Then he stormed out the door.The humidity was far from letting up, for it had just begun. The crew who shuttled the science vessel experienced this from front row seats. Jerry stood tall in front of the boat where he steered and enjoyed the view. Briscoe and Klinton sat in the quarters and played cards, while Brutus walked alongside the boat railing checking out different views. They were a ways from their destination, so any view now was just recreational.The helicopter crew had already caught up with the departed science vessel in no time. Susie Kemp's aircraft lead the way, with Richard and her husband close behind. Their flights were going smoothly, and besides the choppers' ruckus, you could hear small talk. Richard didn't have much to say, because he dealt primarily with Brutus Salapore. He in turn was the point of this entire trip. It so happened that he needed extra pilots for the extra men Brutus would need. The premonition of the professor's skills coming in handy was the reason he felt the need for this man's services. The FBI crew was considered a buffer for his protection, but uncertainty set in fiercely and was the cause for his dense thoughts.What was about to occur was truly the unknown, and that fact heightened Richard's every sensation. Nevertheless, Richard did not restrict his pilots from proceeding. In his mind, all he needed was for Brutus to write the report, even if it was exaggerated. That was the driving force for his eagerness, and nothing seemed to be able to stop him. At least that is what he believed, especially since he could pay whatever price was necessary to get what he needed."So, Andrew! That is your name, right?""Yes it is," responded the pilot sarcastically."I'm sorry, I'm not good with names. So I see your wife is a pretty good pilot. She's really flying that baby."He noticed her because she led the way to a sharp left turn. They were just about ready to land. It wasn't that short of a ride, and they were all ready to stretch out their stiffness.One of the FBI agents blurted, "Damn, we're not there yet?"Kyser Finley rode in the chopper with Andrew and Richard and heard the comments his fellow mates made clearly. It wasn't a problem until the same agent continued to blabber. "You know what, this is extreme! If we weren't making what you are paying us Mr. Rich guy, there's no way I would be on this trip, not for a penny less."Kyser Finley immediately responded to the last comment. "Now that's not appropriate to say."Richard said, "Oh no, that's OK! I like a man that is concerned about his money. That reminds me of me. You see how I'm able to pay all of you? Sure the hell is not by not worrying about my money. You see, this is why I'm out here. This project will leave me strikingly rich, allow me to reach another level in which you all become peasants. My goal is to be number one in the funds department."Richard sat back indulging in the silence his listeners now bathed him in. Then he continued, "You know I do a little flying myself. Maybe we need to take three choppers so we can race.""Just make sure I'm not a passenger!" Klinton replied meaningfully."It's just about time to land," Andrew indicated to Richard. Susie made that apparent as her helicopter dipped severely, and Andrew followed her same procedure. It was difficult to land because the jungle was very thick and would not cooperate. To find clearance was difficult because they didn't arrive at the already prepared landing field. Susie had drifted off course a little, but even so, the previously prepared area would be difficult to land in due to the thick trees. Andrew followed his wife's trajectory to a tee, until receiving a radio transmission."What is it baby?""This spot ahead is clear of trees, like a little patch, and it seems to be flat ground. I'm going to land here.""Roger that!"They landed the choppers on soft ground, and had to walk about 200 meters to the camp that was built by the late Gary Russy.Drifting along in the beautifully equipped boat, Jerry shouted, "There's land just ahead of us."Brutus approached Jerry to give him instructions. "Jerry! Sail the boat right along there."He pointed exactly where he wanted and Jerry comprehended quite well. The next step was to drop anchor, for this was a good spot. A continuous scrape and rattle sounded loudly from beneath the boat, and before you knew it the boat was idle. The men quickly released the two motorboats."You think we should release the reserve boat?" Klinton asked.Jerry said no, but Klinton had already started to untie the boat. Klinton did stop, but had neglected to tie the boat back tightly, and the inevitable was for the safety boat to drift away. For now it seemed secure, so the men paid no attention. They were more interested in loading the motorboats with the equipment they needed. All supplies were loaded, and it was now time to survey the land, and map the shores.Briscoe and Brutus cranked their motor as soon as they were fully loaded. They were floating away from the sun because it was a little after noon and they sailed west. Jerry and Klinton headed south. The science vessel pointed directly towards the land that looked like a pointer itself, because that is where it split the river in two. It was the main reason one crew went west and the other went south.Brutus had his boat moving smoothly while Jerry and Klinton barely qualified as being setup. Brutus looked back at what he could see of the science vessel. "They are just leaving. Why are they so damned slow? Looks like they let the emergency boat free. I don't know why? They don't need the damn thing."He seemed annoyed, and it carried over to Briscoe. "What Brutus? They weren't supposed to?""I don't know what for—they don't need it."Briscoe shook his head in disbelief and continued on with his westward survey.Jerry and Klinton finally got going after scuffling over petty matters. The two always bickered; however, their friendship allowed it to be humorous sarcasm in content."Goddamn it! Klinton, let me drive the boat.""You're not the only one who can drive a simple motorboat. Just because you're a self-proclaimed captain don't mean a damn thing to me.""Ahh... put a sock in it," replied Jerry. He continued his defense in their war of words. "You just survey the fucking land while I boat on."Several hours had come to pass, Brutus and Briscoe's trip went fine in the meantime. They worked well together and got much accomplished. In fact, they were just about to turn around and head back for the science vessel.Things weren't so speedy for Jerry and Klinton. During their several hours of conflict, they managed only half the work their counterparts produced. It was at least another hour before they could turn around and head back to the big ship. At that rendezvous point, things were undisturbed, except for the reserve boat that slowly drifted away. It floated slowly downstream southward, and if Brutus saw this it would outrage him just because he knew the two could hardly get anything done together.The boat continued down the river southbound, and nothing was stopping its departure. It did not float fast, but briskly enough. No motor nor sails powered it, but the strong river currents moved everything else and it was no exception.Even though it had been hours, Jerry and Klinton still tangled with each other about every little thing. They had argued about Jerry going too fast and Jerry going too slow. The bickering also resulted in Klinton inadvertently hitting Jerry in the head with the equipment he was using. A hard clump with a scope was enough for Jerry."Will you watch where the hell you're going with that?""I could if you keep the damn boat still!""I don't see you driving it, do I?""I tried to remember, but you wanted to make yourself useful for a change.""That's the problem with you people. You learn how to do something and you get careless and think you know everything."Klinton was not fond of those comments, and stared with a sharp and short-tempered glare, responding in a hyperventilated manner. "What the fuck... did you say... you people!"Then Klinton carelessly mishandled the scope, blundering into Jerry's head again."Goddamn it," Jerry shouted in tremendous discomfort. He jumped up at Klinton. In defense, Klinton lunged to grab Jerry in an effort to slow him to a halt. However, that did not work the way he wanted. They locked up in a bear hug, both trying to do something that was unclear. The uncertainty of their tussling loomed large since they had little room on their four-party boat. Usually, when two men tussle, it is meant for one to overturn the other. That is what happened, but who overturned who was not clear, because both went overboard.The two remained entangled causing a large splash in the water. A deep plunge into the deep trenches of the Amazon was the last thing on their minds. Winning the entanglement was the first thought, but when they finally reached the surface of the water their feelings had changed. They both gasped for air as they came up, and Jerry shouted, "Shit, oh shit..."His shouts weren't because they had fallen into the water. He was used to that, but it was what Klinton stared at so hard. He even seemed stunned from the view, and for that, Jerry continued his raving. "Help, what we gonna do?"Klinton said nothing for the moment, but used that energy instead to tread water. He still couldn't stop looking at what was before him."Klinton, man save me, shit. I didn't mean it.""It's your fucking fault," Klinton shouted, but he said no more for he knew his energy would be needed.On the other hand, Brutus and Briscoe were on the way back to the science vessel to record their information. "I hope those gentlemen are about on their way back," Brutus exclaimed.Briscoe listened and offered comforting suggestions. "Well, I'm sure they are right on schedule.""Hmmm...," Brutus muttered in a not-so-convinced manner. "Knowing them two... Hmmm... you don't know them two.""Relax, Brutus! We are here to make a little money, and at least we are in the tropics. Just look at it as a vacation."Brutus looked at Briscoe with an unappealing smirk that had disgust written all over it. "I hardly call this a vacation," replied the engineer while slapping the life out of a life-sucking insect."Well, I'm sure you can't disagree that the money's good.""You're right, I won't deny that."A momentary pause set in, just about a second. "Oh shit!!!" Briscoe shouted while barely holding onto the side of the boat. Brutus had a tight grip, with both hands clutched to the boat's rails opposite of each other. The boat took a large jolt.Brutus calmed the situation, declaring, "We got hit by a serious wave, or maybe the current, or something." The boat did however stay afloat and continued along its original path.As they moved along the murky waters, their senses felt like they were in overdrive. Briscoe's eyes were keen, because he noticed a boat ahead. It seemed similar in size to the one he was on, but maybe his perception was disrupted from the overuse of his senses."Look Brutus! That looks like Jerry and Klinton but they are supposed to be on their way back to the science vessel... I...I don't think anyone's on that boat. The motor is running and it's headed right for us."The men shouted and kicked into overdrive in an attempt to get out of the way of the runaway. It was an exhilarating experience, not to mention there was no one seemingly here to save them because they were a bit short on the lifeguards. Because their deadline was short, they gave no effort to catch the runaway. Instead they continued on their course for the science vessel.Intrigue and suspense dominated the two men. "I wonder how in the hell could they manage that. Probably fooling around with that other boat, and messed around a lost... the fucking boat."Briscoe softly replied, "I hope they are not overboard. These waters are filled with things North America has yet to see."Brutus seemed worried, and pushed the boat as fast as it would go. In no time they had reached the science vessel. "Think we should check the boat.""I don't think they are on the boat. Something tells me they're out there somewhere. I knew something was strange when they released that emergency boat. What in the hell are they up to? Now they lost the most valuable one. I told you, you don't know these dimwits."They began to speed off towards the south.There was no more bickering and fussing between Jerry and Klinton, because they concentrated on saving their lives. Klinton yelled as softly as he can, "Just be quiet and still.""I's tired of treading. What are we going to do?" whined Jerry."I don't know, damn it. Just swim."Klinton did just that, and very fast. He thought he could reach the science vessel by swimming, but he was wrong, because to swim two miles or so would be extremely tiresome. If, in fact, he made it that far before being eaten. There were definitely things lurking that would love to eat him. They weren't bleeding was a plus, but the havoc they made trying to swim was not. It proved to be an extreme negative, when their initial plunge disturbed a nearby crocodile that was absolutely territorial."I'm tired of swimming, Klinton!""Stop crying and swim. I can't carry your ass. Shit, I'm tired too, but what? Are you gone give up and just sink.""No! I'm swimming toward shore. It must be some ways ahead. It's shorter to land."Klinton stopped for a moment and tread water in place. He glanced toward shore, noticing it probably was closer but still a stint. The fact that the rugged shoreline resembled swampland was also noticed, and Klinton realized the difficulty of maneuvering trying to get ashore. Without notification, Klinton continued to swim northward.Jerry started for shore just as quickly as Klinton, but their paths were perpendicular. They both were extremely tired, nearly causing them to surrender to the river's demands. However, they both had fight left in them and continued on.The disturbed reptile got more and more agitated. Jerry splashed heavily, and strikingly close to his territory. The prehistoric lizard could swim fast, and Jerry was an intruder and something had to be done. The lizard beast lunged his intimidating jaws out at Jerry and chomps down forcefully.Klinton was continuing to swim and leaving Jerry far behind. He appeared now to be swimming at some distorted angle, heading directly towards what appeared to be a boat. He swam fast and aggressively because, if he didn't, the tiredness would set in. Finally reaching the boat, he climbed in clumsily. He was ever so tired, and he didn't even think about Jerry just yet. He had to recover from the exhaustion of swimming and treading.A loud shriek echoed, and Klinton jumped out of his recuperating status and began to row towards Jerry's distress call. A near miss with the alligator sent Jerry underwater briefly, but he managed to pull himself above water. He quickly tried to swim away from the dinner menu. Chance was in his favor for the beast had already eaten a hearty meal. The prime reason for striking out at Jerry was for the protection of his territory.Nevertheless, Jerry swam ahead, to the north where his partner had gone. It was a panic swim, but he did reach his comrade halfway."Jerry, Jerry, hold on," yelled Klinton ecstatically. He reached over to pull Jerry aboard."Oh shit, oh my goodness," Jerry said through his panting. He was exhausted but happy to be alive. Fortunate for them both, they were safely aboard the runaway reserve boat. There time wasn't now, but it had been a particularly close call for Jerry. They rowed away soaking wet."Thanks Klint, man! I thought you might leave me.""Oh no, then I could pester you. Even though you say some foul shit, you still my friend. We have a job to do besides that, and I can't do it without you.""Hey! Thanks man, you're right. We have money to make."Klinton looked at Jerry as if to say that all the previous comments were simply forgotten.Just ahead, again Briscoe's keen eyes were put to test. Briscoe informed Brutus of his detection of a moving object before them. Brutus rose cautiously trying not to shake the boat."I think that's a boat," said the captain.Brutus added his verbal contribution slickly, "It appears I am correct in my assumption." The captain was not clear what these comments meant. Brutus sensed that and continued, saying, "I believe we've found our distressees, and why they gave up the motorboat for that row boat is unapparent. I told you, these two together...""So how in the hell did you manage that?" asked Brutus, as soon as they were within hearing. He turned to Briscoe, but still commented on the quicksilver his two employees produced. "Now, tell me! How in the hell do you manage that? You see... didn't I warn you, Briscoe... These guys are nincompoops. So, let's hear it. How in the hell did this happen, you're all wet... Oh, I'm eager to hear this!"Brutus had spoken erratically while Briscoe watched on. The two alleged dimwits spoke out simultaneously. "I, We...""Can I hear one at a time, or better yet! I do not want to hear a thing. Just make sure you row that boat all the way back. Follow us and you better not fall behind. We are not a search team, so try not to get lost. We may not be able to come search for you."Brutus cranked his motor and headed west. He was on his way to the campsite to meet Richard.Klinton and Jerry watched them pull away briskly, and hustled to begin rowing behind them. "Come on! We need to keep up.""I'm rowing as fast as I can. I know your weak ass ain't talking. Don't act like you on the all kayaking team, rowing your ass down wild white water rapids. You forgot, all you good for is headaches and sailboats. But when it comes time to depend on your physique, we're in trouble."The two rowed on even though Brutus and Briscoe were no longer in their sights. As it became impossible for them to see their co-workers, Jerry's face became longer, even speaking of his demeanor to Klinton."You know Klinton, something's real funny, you know. I've been feeling strange." A small stutter followed before Jerry finished stamping his complaints. "I mean we're supposed to make all this money, and I think Brutus said something about a small partnership in whatever he's building out here... and why did he pick all the way out here anyway? Isn't that funny! Goddamn it, everything's funny around here."Klinton had heard Jerry gracefully and wanted to respond eagerly. He did so, and with a motivational tone comically delivered. "Shit! You just almost got your ass ate by an alligator. I'd feel funny too, but I told you! I don't wanna be here. First off, it's damn near winter, but I'll be damned if they heard of that around here. It was hot as fish grease when you all woke me up, and what time was that? No telling what time zone we're in. Shit, you're the sailor. Can't you look up at the stars or something and tell me where we are."Klinton looked up at the piercing sun receiving the best view, because on the water the trees were wedged away. It nearly blinded him. "I guess not. Well, can you look at the sun and tell me what time it is... I would say it's about some time around after noonish, since the sun is just above us."Jerry listened casually, because he was amazed by the conglomerations of the trees on both sides of him.Klinton again asked, "What do you say about that?"Jerry snapped out of his visual entrapment and gave Klinton a submissive response. "Yeah sure."Jerry, not fully free of his observational engagement, watched on while ignoring Klinton's efforts to get him to help row. Nevertheless, they carried on slowly down the river.CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: THE CAMPSITEThe Kemps and their passengers were safely landed. They placed the choppers down on soft land, and not the concrete laid by the late Mr. Russy. Richard forgot to tell them that is where to land, but since Susie led and he rode with Andrew, it slipped his mind. However, for the time being it remained a sufficient spot. They did indeed drift off course by several meters, which made for a good trek to camp.They traveled in a crooked line with Richard leading the way. He blabbered about how he was appreciative that they had come, promising a relaxing trip filled with new experiences. Kyser Finley was second behind Richard along the light-evading path. For some reason, Richard's gut feeling for direction was extraordinary, as if his soul has been here and knew the proper direction well. Whatever the case might be, he quickly directed them to camp.In the meantime, the group engaged in small talk amongst themselves. They had broken off into groupings that switched periodically depending on the conversation at hand. Except for Kyser, he remained behind Richard and mostly engaged in conversation with him. If he wasn't talking to Rich you could hear him slapping his arms for the constant bites.In the back of the line, agent Adam Newfield was occasionally watched by the professor. However, agent Newfield was unaware and continued picking and poking at wild plant life."Ahhh... shit!" Adam yelled as he pricked his finger on an unidentifiable plant that drew some small portion of blood.Just as he experienced the slight pain, the professor blurted, "Hey! What did you say your name was?""Adam.""Well you know Adam, you may not want to go around fondling unfamiliar plant life. Catch yourself a serious case of poison ivy."It was ironic the professor would say such a thing, because Adam had an object in his hand at that moment that appeared to be some type of small dried up berry he picked from that most recent plant. He replied in a cocky manner, "I appreciate your concern, but I believe I'll be OK. I've been trained in identifying certain types of plants. I know what poison ivy and poison oak look like."He placed a period at the end of his statement by flipping the unknown berry out of his hand. It hurled ahead of the pack, skipping over Wesley and Pam and popping Roy Beavers in the back of the neck. Agent Beavers looked up quickly to see what had fallen on him. He realized maybe nothing fell when, like radar dishes, his ears began to pick up soft chuckles that were supposed to be concealed."Alright back there, who's being the wise guy," replied Roy, but it did nothing but fuel the giggles.Pam had exclaimed a bright and vociferous screech. "Ahhh..." femininely echoed throughout the forest. This was caused by her looking down at a snake slithering below her. Roy was a witness as well, and he jumped in the opposite direction, as did Pam.The crew paused momentarily while they watched Wesley pull out his favorite blade and jump to chop the snake's head off. He said with ridicule, "What's the matter? Are you scared of a little snake?" He laughed uncontrollably as the snake's nerves shook like a puppet.Kyser alerted the crew that they needed to continue along, because Richard carried a fast pace. He stretched his arms fairly aggressive and chanted, "Let's move along, gentlemen."The pace was resumed and so was the small talk. "I'm not too fond of snakes. I'm glad you did away with that one," said Julian.Wesley responded grimly. "I hate them too."The professor continued the conversation with good intentions, "It seems you do have something against snakes. Did you have some childhood encounter with snakes that caused your disdain?"Wesley replied, "No! I used to catch them to cut their heads off."The brilliant one was puzzled, but like all scholars, he lived by a simple dictum: if you don't know, ask! "Well why did you do that?""I used to get a kick out of watching the snake shiver the last life out itself."The professor instantly concluded that Wesley's heart was cold. He made his way to Pam to offer a gentle word. "Never mind him. I'm sure he didn't mean it!"Pam was not cooperating with Julian's pep talk. She exclaimed, "Sure, I bet. You know he's a pig and can care less about my feelings about snakes.""Oh! How do you feel about snakes?"Pamela looked as if surprised he actually wanted to know. Nevertheless, she told him. "Since I was a child, I had a few encounters with snakes that terrified me. My brother used to keep them as pets, and they used to get out sometimes, and..." She broke down her speech a bit just before crying surely ended her statements prematurely.The professor placed his arms around her for comfort. In fact, he had needed it more than Pam. This was a splendid opportunity, one that hardly ever came Julian's way, to be close to a woman. "It will be OK," the professor uttered softly.Pamela turned away from the professor's unwanted fondling. "Excuse me... I think I'm OK now." She picked up her pace and left him behind with Adam.Julian looked at him with disgust. As if he lost his big chance to score, and this was his just reward. At that moment, Agent Newfield belched out a horrendous sneeze. "Oh excuse me. My allergies are having a hard time in this humidity."The professor tried to get some distance from Adam because he seemed gross after snot blew from his nostrils.They finally arrived at camp after their short hike through the woods. Fortunately for them it was a manageable trail. Needless to say, that was for the time being and only before nature had a say so."Is this what you call camp," complained Akbar.A voice pierced from around the corner boldly saying, "Well it will have to do!" Whose voice was irrelevant because the statements were true."Well who made this place any way," exclaimed Agent Newfield.No one seemed to want to answer. Even the most qualified one remained silent momentarily. After feeling a jolt in his conscience, Richard said, "That's not important. What is important is that this trip was prearranged, and it should go smoothly. We can set up the tents over there, and there's even... I know it's not luxury.""You can say that again.""Well that is why you are paid so well, so it will have to do. I'm sure you won't have a hard time adjusting to make do.""Ahhhchooo..." disbursed from Adam's mouth and nose, and the professor replied treacherously. "Your sinuses are bad." He looked at Adam while assuring he kept some distance.Adam said nothing, but showed signs of a minor cold brewing. The professor went away to blabber his life's history to Pam while Wesley assumed the conversation with Adam."You alright!?""Yes I'm fine."Roy Beavers, Kyser Finley, and Richard Dickenson sat in a circle casually conversing. "So, Rich!" shouted Kyser, but not really loudly. After scratching his arms he patted Richard on the back and said, "So, what is the real reason you brought us out here and are paying us so much money? It doesn't seem like a place for the FBI I mean something must have really scared you." His speech was a little slurred. It became apparent why when he sipped out of a container stashed in his vest pocket."Hey man, what are you doing? I need you gentlemen alert, not half drunk.""Ah, don't worry. I've drunk liquor and solved cases like milk goes with babies. I'm a grown man and am voluntarily on your payroll, which really isn't a payroll anyway, so don't give me no shit. Goddamn it."Kyser began to shout in a drunken escapade. He shouted in discomfort again, scratching his arms roughly. "Ever since those flies bit me, I've been itching like crazy."Pam had overheard. "Oh great! The flies here bite? Snakes and man-eating flies are enough. When are you going to be finish with your stupid survey?""Wait a minute," exclaimed Kyser, butting in with impaired verbiage. "You still haven't told me what scared you. Why are we here?"Richard seemed cornered, but smoothly escaped by declaring, "Look! I paid you to guard the area... so do I have to go through the third degree! I'm here to complete a job and report to my investors."Richard was saved from the scrutiny as from a distance he noticed Briscoe and Brutus coming ashore. He immediately walked towards the gentlemen because he was eager to hear Brutus's initial report.Wesley snatched Kyser's stash and began sipping. After gulping a significant swallow, he declared, "I think that asshole's hiding something.""Sit down," commanded Kyser, snatching his drink back.Wesley looks at Richard walking away and shouted, "Hey! What the hell are we to do now? Just sit around and wait here? What the hell are we guarding?""Sit down and shut up!" Pam declared softly but firmly.Wesley didn't take orders from a woman, but he calmed because everyone else looked at him.Richard consulted with his employees, eventually introducing them all to the group. They of course already met, but there had been no real time to make that formal. This ritual now designated who the authority was in this situation. Richard was indeed in charge, and Kyser stepping in only if there would be trouble. However, Brutus Salapore did the directing, and that he made sure he did well.He instructed groups to cover certain distances strategically placed on his map. He advised them to search for any streams, brooks, or small bodies of water that would render a detour route. These spots would have to be thoroughly examined. He wanted to know the high and low ground, or rather, whether it was soft or hard ground. To cover all this area, they needed to split up, and that was what they did.Pam and Kyser grouped together, and Wes and Adam did the same. Roy and Briscoe ended up together by chance. The professor went on his own—he had other things to do. The newlyweds insisted on being together, trotting off on their own assignment. He put them all to work, even Mr. Dickenson.All you could hear was tires squealing from an abrupt stop. Next, there was a clatter that indicated a car's door had been slammed. The driver's feet then clattered from his acceleration, eager to get to the front door. Detective Edward Pullins knocked anxiously at a door that was gently opened by a beautiful woman with dark hair and eyes."May I help you?" the woman said softly."Yes, excuse me. I'm detective Pullins. Would Mr. Fusil be available?"The woman kept the crack she peeked through small while advising the detective, "One moment please." She politely closed the door, but that attitude was not portrayed in her following declarations. "Nick, Nick!" she shouted. She searched for him briskly and wondered about the money. She thought, "Oh dear, I hope Nick hasn't gotten all this money..." Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden run-in with her fiancée."Nick! What is going on?""Baby, what? What are you talking about?" Nick gently shoved her."There's a detective out here. Is there something you want to tell me? Where did you get all that money from?"Nick waved his hand, signaling he was paying no attention to her tirade as he opened the door to greet Detective Pullins."What brings you by," asked Nick after shutting the door behind them. "Oh, this is my soon-to-be wife... since she is going to make it impossible for her not to be seen."The gentlemen sat down, which relieved Tameka. She figured out that the detective was here on business of his own, so she quickly fetched them beverages."So, did you find my friends?""That is why I'm here. I've been taken off the case, and just when I was on to something.""Oh! What are you onto?""Well, I believe your friends weren't the only ones he abandoned. I want to arrest him for obstruction of justice and hold him for questioning. A jury might even find him negligent.""So, what do you need me for?""Well I need you to show me exactly where to go""Oh no! I'm not going back there no way are you going to get me back in that godforsaken jungle.""Look! I need you! Don't you want me to get that scum bag and bring him to justice?""Yeah, but if it takes my presence, he'll be a free ass. Because I am not going back, absolutely not."Nick made it clear that he meant what he said. Edward gave up, and the two sipped on their drinks."You sure, Nick? I really need..."Nick gave him a stare that had no deeply imbedded in it. However, it was getting unbearably difficult for Nick to decline, but it was no longer impossible, and at some point it was no longer even improbable. Nick's rejections were continuous, however, but empathy got the best of Nick, and he replied."Look! I told you I was not going, but I guess I could help."Edward looked at Nick as if he had no choice but to be grateful, and to take whatever it is Nick was offering."I'll tell you what. I'll arrange for you to get there, but you're on your own then. I'll arrange for you to be flown directly there, if you don't see any helicopters, then... they are probably where you want to go. I got a feeling he's still trying to do whatever it is he's doing. I just hope he doesn't abandon anyone else."Nick scratched his head before snapping his fingers in excitement. "You know! If there are no helicopters at this landing site, then they will probably eventually have to come back. If I were you, I would wait."The two men rambled on, and Nick's sweetheart took full advantage of the information session. She had been totally in the dark and now made it her business to be included in the conversation. She had been curious ever since the night she picked him up and he had all that money.The gentlemen concluded their initial plans, and Edward stepped through the door quickly, just catching Nick's last remarks. "Hey, you just be here early. And I'll get you there. I know exactly where to go."Edward climbed into his car and sped off, causing his tires to scream louder than they did when he arrived.There was the same anxiousness within Klinton's eyes. He was tired of rowing, and the so-called camp was where he wanted to be. Not that it was his first choice, but it sure beat rowing on an unfamiliar river. It was hot and humid and that alone made it hard to breathe.Klinton declared suddenly, "I'm tired of rowing. It's your turn."Jerry just lay there not responding at all."I'm not playing with you." Klinton dropped the paddles and their boat floated on current alone. Jerry's idle motion appeared unchangeable.Klinton grabs Jerry forcefully declaring, "Man, you better get your ass up!"Groans escaped from Jerry's mouth. Klinton allowed the boat to drift because Jerry continued to stall on helping. Klinton finally got fed up. He grabbed Jerry aggressively and ordered him to get up. "Wake up, damn it!" He shook Jerry furiously until he slowly arose with sluggish body movements and the attitude of a lazy person.It wasn't that he didn't like work, but exhaustion had set in from swimming for his life. There wasn't going to be much effort in him because he was really tired. He whined to Klinton about just that, but Klinton responded in a rude manner."Well shit Jerry, I'm tired too. What do you want? Me to save your ass and row you to safety too? Oh no, I don't think so." Klinton paused only momentarily just to scream, "Get your ass up!"Klinton scooped as much water as he could with the cup of his hands and splashed Jerry's face."Hey, hey! What did you do that for?" Jerry exclaimed, awakening with a look on his face that cut like sharp knives.It didn't phase Klinton, because he responded bluntly, "I don't give a damn about you looking the way you looking. I'm not fixin' to be on this water til night time. Matter of fact! How much further do we have to go?"Klinton tossed the other set of paddles forcefully, while demanding participation. Finally the two caused the boat to go faster, not that Jerry contributed much. The heat beat down upon them and the water they floated on didn't cooperate."Hey! I'm tired too. Remember, I saved your ass. So at least you can help.""Shut up, I'm helping now! Don't give me none of your shit."Jerry was now more alert than ever. They began to row faster, and luckily so, because they were in another gator's territory. However, they quickly made their way to the camp. When they reached shore, they spotted Brutus already speaking with Richard and the others. The two rowed on, finally arriving at the shore, exhausted but relieved.CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: THE RITUALThe daily sunset ritual was being performed somewhere deep in the jungle. It was a ritual common to the area, but this time a special element had to be added. The chants and praises began. The land was in danger—it knew, they knew it, and even the eyes knew it. The spirits, however, were the first ones to know it. They were angry, and it was inevitable for things to get ugly.Lost souls would especially be upset at the situation at hand. Life was all energy, and so were the spirits, and the trees, and animals. The intruders were the energy supply the spirits sought. This was ancient stuff. Magic and sorcery passed down through the generations as told by stories. The myths were now being tested.Why did the ancients call her Mother Earth? Is it because she is really alive and gives birth to splendid life every day? Is it because she supports life and is the sole reason we are able to exist? The ancients would answer yes to all of these questions, but the real question was: Could the spirits be called upon? The ancients probably would say yes to that as well.So the sun began to set, giving its last thirty minutes of daylight. This was important because tradition was imbued in the setting of the sun. This event was even considered a separate God in some ancient cultures, and some of these people have never been contacted by modern day civilization but are still around today. That is how vast the jungles are in which the trespassers found themselves. There are even plants, insects, and animals living here that are undiscovered and extremely rare, many different trees, plants, and vines that may or may not be dangerous to humans.The chants were now going once more, and somehow there seemed to be a deeper emotion to the chanting. They were all aware intruders were on the loose. The purpose of the chants was to assure the trees, the spirits, and all of those eyes were included in this ritual. Together, they would watch closely and defend their home from these very intruders.The situation was about to get spiritual. The spirits were all called upon, and anyone who departed prematurely might find themselves wandering the jungle for quite a while. Upset by their spiritual entrapment, they might decide to do something haunting.A thin mist began to lift from the earth, making it even more difficult to see.Klinton and Brutus were the first to experience the worsening conditions. After climbing that hill and going their separate ways, they hoped to meet on the other side. The first task was not to fall in the middle, because just below could be a sink hole. It could even be some type of trap, and they were cautious enough not to find out. They were just about a small arc's length from meeting, but they were unaware of this fact because visibility was not up to par.The sight of Captain Briscoe and Agent Beavers wasn't any better. The fact that they were a little lost was the proof, and they began to get frustrated. It was funny because, just before the chants, it seemed as if they knew exactly where they were."Where the hell are we going! We've been walking around in this forest for a while, with no sign of anyone, but plenty signs of everything. Are we lost? I thought you were this jungle scout that rich guy hired. Don't you know your way around?"Briscoe remained silent and continued to cut through the massive green floristry."I figured you'd know your way around this here jungle, after all you're Richard's right hand man, aren't you. Y'all have already explored this, haven't you? How far are we from camp? It's gotten dark and maybe the fact that we can't see far ahead is why we're lost. So I don't blame you or nothing. I just want you to say something, for crying out loud. I mean, it is dark and a mist is beginning to lift—look at it. I can nearly scoop some up with my hand, it's so thick. Hey! Is this typical for this type of climate?"Roy rambled on, but Briscoe was less talkative. He concentrated more on cutting the two a path to walk through."Answer me. I haven't heard any of the crew. Do you even know where you're going!?" Roy's peaceful ways became disrupted.The owners of the eyes that watched them made sounds Roy's ears could not register. Those eyes were the cause for his uneasiness, and the fact that they were fixed on Roy didn't help.The forest sounds echoed. In some areas it was intense, as Klinton was the first to find out. He glanced up at strange birds nesting in a huge tree. They were gorgeous and could probably be found in many other trees other than the one above him. He noticed those eyes first, but then he saw there were beautiful stripes of many different colors. A true tropical symbol was in his sight, but because of the night the true elegance could not be experienced.He tried to walk forward, but what he could see of the bird had him captivated, thus making the eyes that watched him go unnoticed. He didn't move a step forward because of this trance. Luckily so, because the spot before him was unsafe and it seemed the birds may have saved his life. On the other hand, they may have had nothing to do with anything at all. However, he continued to watch them with astonishment.He began now to notice other eyes within the trees. The dimness of light made him concentrate a little more, merely rendering him hypnotized. Even the footsteps that clattered seemed to be ignored, but Klinton's ears were not impaired like his eyesight. He finally snapped out of his daze by looking down, away from the birds, because for a brief moment he thought he saw a buck-naked man.Klinton's astonishment forced him to step sideways instead of forward, only to try and capture a better view of the nude man. It was hard to see, so he began to decline the slope, as if a trance made him do it. It was not easy as it seemed, because slippery was not the word. Klinton began to slide downhill fast. Soon his slide became uncontrollable, and Klinton shouted, "Shit, ohhh damn!"He had even lost interest in what started the ruckus in the first place. However, he did give some concern to the buck-naked man running loose. He was of color, and I'm the only one on the trip... Klinton continued to ponder, Well not as colorful as this! Strange, this nude man disappeared so cleverly???Klinton's tumble helped stymie his awareness, ultimately making his once limited eyesight now useless. Besides, the effort it took to try and stop his freefall was tremendous. He wouldn't recover soon enough because he had smacked himself unconscious on a huge tree stump. Blood dripped from the wound that was caused by the impact, and those eyes didn't stop watching. Except for maybe the eyes of those lovely birds he once had watched.Brutus had reached the point where they were to meet. He looked around for his employee, but to no avail. Brutus walked on, looking all around for Klinton. He had no interest in the jungle's beauty as Klinton had. He was more programmed to just work, and he only kept his eyes on any other eyes he noticed. He was a survivalist.He was now on Klinton's side of the circle where he had fallen. His eyes noticed that the hill rose again about a hundred meters ahead. It proved to be very uneven ground. Brutus began to approach the small hill, and all of a sudden, he heard a whip sound and Brutus's ankle was caught in some type of trap. It swiftly hurled him upward attached to a tree branch, leaving him upside down."Ahhh!!!" exclaimed Brutus. He continued to yell and plead for someone to rescue him. Klinton couldn't hear, because he was lying there half asleep.He hung there wondering how in the hell this could have happened. Many thoughts rushed through, even though he shouted continuously for help. Goddamn, an ancient tree trap. This is ridiculous. I thought this only happened in movies. A man walking along the woods is sprung into the air and left hanging by one leg, the one who somehow managed to step on misfortune. The one who now is being strangled by the leg, with some device made of terribly tough vine, and other immediately unidentifiable accessories. Oh, and that someone had to be my dumb ass.He thought about this momentarily while entertaining a recess to his distress calls. One thing for sure, his ankle hurt from the primitive entrapment that tore away at the skin on his ankle. It would not let go, and his weight and gravity caused the peeling of his skin. The bawling contributed to his energy depletion, along with the fact that most of his blood rushed to the top of his head. It rendered him silent for a moment, nearly fading him into unconsciousness.His eyes did remain slightly open, but that didn't help because delusion set in. He surely could not see clearly, and the fact that he cared not to look at anything other than what could harm him did not help. That was his rationale all along. If it wasn't something that would increase efficiency in his work, then he figured there was no need for it. So he had paid no attention to the eyes that watched him from the forest. Of course not!Nevertheless, even though his attention to his surroundings was at a bare minimum, the eyes that watched him were all the more heedful. In fact, they were always alert and paid strict attention to anything lurking. He hung there like a sitting target, completely vulnerable and with no way to get free. The eyes registered his predicament and realized the threat was immobilized. However, one particular set already knew of Brutus and his incapacitation. They watched from around the unusually large tree from just beyond his sight.The eyes that watched Roy and Briscoe were also unnoticed because these two were too busy trying to find their way back from their far-off wandering. Another contributing factor was Briscoe's attempt to ignore Roy's complaints, and Roy was too busy complaining to notice anything. That, and perhaps fear also, caused Roy not to want to notice anything, especially anything that could be watching him.All of a sudden Briscoe halted."What's wrong," exclaimed Roy in his usually frail voice."Nothing. I think that hill will allow access to camp. We need to go over it.""Well? What are you waiting for? I'm ready!"The two gentlemen proceeded toward the hill."What now!" exclaimed Roy, wondering why Briscoe had stopped again."I think that's a body laying up there," declared Briscoe."Wait a minute, a body! Can you really see something? It is kind of dim with the sun's recent departure.""I know! I have good eyesight, and I think that's a body lying there.""Oh no man, what's a body doing lying around here? It may be one of the crew."Briscoe ran quickly forward, briefly leaving Roy in his tracks. Roy caught up with Briscoe momentarily."I think this is that Klinton guy. He's just lying here. It looks like he injured his head. We need to help him."Briscoe watched Klinton, and Roy watched Briscoe help Klinton, and the eyes watched them all.Meanwhile, Professor Julian Akbar pulled a thick elephant branch back and walked out into an open space. His eyes filled with splendor, and adrenaline and excitement filled him. His life had flashed right before his eyes and the threat was coming from three different directions.He shouted, "Hold it, Hold it, wait a minute. What's the problem? Put those things away. What is the matter with you all? What has caused the paranoia?"The guns of the agents were put away, but no one answered him. Instead they looked over towards Joe, and Akbar instantly received the message."Oh... my! What caused this?""No one knows. We were cautious upon your arrival because we don't know how this happened. You could have been...""Point taken, sir. So what is the story?"Kyser scratched his arms and neck while informing the professor, "Well, there is something very strange about this man's death.""What do you mean?""It appears to be a trap, and this branch is apparently part of it, but it just doesn't add up.""Hey! We're not here to investigate.""Yeah, I agree. Let's head back to camp."The group began to leave the area and head back to camp. Pam stood there as she now became the obvious one to trail the group. She couldn't keep her eyes off of Joe. It seemed as if Joe was trying to tell her something, or that he was delaying her for some reason. It was possibly just captivation that caused her idle stare.That same type of stare was on Brutus, as those eyes watched him. He hung there, just about to shut his eyes, for his entrance into the unconscious state was imminent. The eyes of a non-civilized being approached and stood right in front of Brutus with an incomprehensible stare and long spear in his left hand. The paint of summoning was decorated over his body, but primarily his face. Walking around Brutus, the misunderstood one began to dance primitively around him. He began to chant an undetermined phrase that produced sounds of harmonizing parallel to the chants and praises that echoed deep within the forest.These noises awakened Brutus, but only from being unconscious. His eyes slowly began to open and he noticed this buck-naked man dancing around him. This caused terror within because Brutus now confirmed his previous thoughts. His thoughts began to rush again. Oh shit... I've been captured by some cannibalistic tribe.He thought he was surely dead as well. "Help! Oh shit! Help! Help!" he grunted and moaned now from the struggle to get free. Fear had now compromised his vocal chords, causing distortion. Nevertheless, he screamed frantically, "Oh no, get the fuck away." He feared the tribesman was about to stick him with that spear. His sudden scream actually jolted him forward. He began to swing on the very contraption that hung him. This swinging action allowed him to bump the tribesman timidly. The nude one ran off, deep within the forest.At a small distance away, Pam heard an echo. It snaps her out of her trance, prompting her to try to catch up with the crew. Brutus continued to scream."Hey Kyser, I think I hear something."Kyser halted the group to hear what Pam had to say. However, Briscoe and Roy heard the screams. They were just next to Brutus. Those shouts from Brutus along with Briscoe and Roy's chanting finally awakened Klinton."Oh, my god," exclaimed Klinton as he finally confronted the pain that awaited him. An excruciating throb worse than any migraine pulsated from under his wound. However, he thought about his boss as he heard screams for help.Briscoe helped Klinton up. "It sounds like it's coming from there." They darted in the direction of the screams."Oh my!" Roy exclaimed."What the...," declared Briscoe."Oh shit... Brutus...," shouted Klinton running towards him to get a better view. "Brutus! How did this happen?" yelled Klinton while the other two called for help. "How are we going to get him down?""I don't know, just keep calling for help."Meanwhile, Kyser advised Pam that he didn't think she actually heard anything. "What is it Pam?"Disapprovingly, Pam said nothing, but continued listening. She couldn't hear them right at the moment, and Kyser's continuous interruptions did not help the matter."You see, there's no one screaming. Come on. The rest of the crew is probably waiting for us at the camp."The others agreed, but for some reason, Pam remained still."Let her stay there and hear ghosts," Wesley exclaimed.Pam did not agree as she began to hear, or maybe just possibly sense, those screams again, but this time the volume seemed to be doubled. Pam ran off in the direction of the screams, and the crew turns to see Pam dart off.Kyser scratched away at a crude itch wondering what had gotten into Pam. Wesley stalls abruptly declaring, "Let her run off. Fitting if she runs into a big snake." Wesley chuckled."No! Let's go after her. I'm responsible for you all.""Come on! I don't think we need to go after her paranoia.""Can it Wesley!" the professor declared sternly, adding, "Just because you're this super FBI agent doesn't mean you would like to be left alone.""Who asked you, Arab.""What's with this guy?""Alright gentlemen," declared Kyser. "Let's follow her."The crew set out to catch up with Pam.The others examined all around the tree from which Brutus dangled, but to no avail. It seemed an impossible feat to climb it, but yet someone had to save him. It was only a matter of time before someone heard them, they thought, and so they waited, screaming and yelling, for this seemed to be their only option.Indeed, Pam was on her way, and suddenly, she noticed Brutus hanging there."Oh my God," exclaimed Pam, walking towards them with dismay."Hey where are the others?" shouted Roy."Pam! Pam, snap out of it," Roy exclaimed urgently. However, she stood there staring at Brutus, still informed by some higher force."Can't you hear us? Where are the others?""There's no use for this girl. Damn!" exclaimed Klinton.The crew they asked for just pierced the horizon and noticed all of the commotion."Hey! Help us.""What the hell?""He's in some kind of trap."The crew converged around Brutus. Everything seemed under control, except for a method to get him down. Because the entire crew was there, they had a sense of control, but they were in a state of shock. Pam stood there motionless as that very moment the sounds of the forest were muted.Dire eyes were probably what made things silent, but the crew made crackling sounds from the plant brush as they approached closer, but that wasn't the only cracking sound. The branch above that held Brutus began to crack. With that fact came the first understandable words from Brutus, "Oh my God, I feel my leverage slipping. I think you better think of something fast."The crackling sounded once again. This time it was a bit louder than all other sounds. It sounded like a lumberjack conquering a huge tree."Aughg aughg!!!" Pam screeched. She experienced some strange force, and she knew, that right before her eyes Brutus would fall to his death a split second before it happened. Landing head first, Brutus died instantly. The whole crew watched in amazement.Pam gave out a final scream as Brutus made contact with the unforgiving earth. The crew rushed to his aid, Klinton being the first to announce his death."Whoa... wait a minute. This is now two that are dead," exclaimed Julian."Who else is dead," shouted Roy.Kyser filled Agent Beavers in on the discovery of the late Joe.The crew pondered how best to get Brutus's body back to camp. However, not before examining the scene. Wesley noticed the tree's vitality, that it seemed to be in its prime."I'm not sure how this branch broke. I don't think his weight caused it.""Then what did?""I'm not sure.""Well what are you sure about?""One thing is for sure! In the morning, we need to search the area for more traps so that no more of this tyranny occurs."They all agreed, passing it off as an accident. Pam didn't say anything, but felt it was no accident. They all evacuated the scene and those particular eyes watched their departure. A patch of cumulonimbus clouds began to cover the night sky.On their way back, some pondered the strangeness of both deaths."Hey Richard!" exclaimed Wesley. "I think it was kind of odd for you to figure you needed four FBI agents, but now it's making sense. Is there something you are not telling us about your little project? Because, if there is, I might have to kick your ass.""Wait a minute, no one talks to me that way, and Kyser, get your employee in line before I have his job. If I have to pay for it.""What the fuck, this guy's not threatening me."Kyser settles the gentlemen down and added, "I do think all of this just doesn't add up. Now Rich, me and you go way back, so what's going on?""I don't know?""Oh yeah! Is that why you brought the professor?" exclaimed Wes."Hey, leave my name out of it.""There was suspicion that there could be a tribe of some sort, but I've never seen anyone. Maybe an indigenous tribe is responsible for all of this.""Hmmm, maybe you're responsible!""That is absurd. What the hell would I have to gain and how would I mysteriously... I just won't entertain that comment.""Knock it off!" declared Kyser, scratching his head like it hurt. "Professor, what do you say?""Well, there are likely to be tribes living around here.""Well... how likely is it?"The professor gave a look of deep thought and answered calmly. "I should say highly likely. On my journey today I've seen signs of someone's passage.""Oh, what sort of signs?""I've seen a few abandoned campfires as well as what appear to be some discarded tools, most of which were defective spearheads, or maybe even somehow broken off into some animal, which were eaten on the spot.""OK, we just asked you a simple question and that was more than enough," replied Klinton.Andrew had slipped over a bit to whisper to Wesley, "He looked quite suspicious when that Joe guy turned up.""He did, didn't he? I thought I was the only one to notice."Andrew had slipped away and Wesley got Richard's attention. "Richard, I think we all need to talk."Everyone looked."Andrew tells me that you looked suspicious when that Joe guy turned up. I think you know something and your crew demands to be told."An eerie silence was amongst them. All that could be heard were natural forest sounds."Oh, you have nothing to say, do you?" Wesley uttered.Richard was fed up and his response showed it. "Look, I told you! You don't know who you think you are talking to. I'm going to show you first thing in the morning, because now you're trespassing on my property and I want you off the premises.""Wait a minute sir! I don't think so... People have been turning up dead. I think that is where our expertise is needed. So, frankly! I don't think we are going anywhere?"Wesley and Richard had drawn up on each other as if they were to begin the fight of the century. Richard responded with his fists clenched at his sides. "Oh, I think you will be leaving, because you have no jurisdiction here in South America. This is private property, and if I want, at the press of a button, I can call the correct authorities. I know that you're not the correct ones. I'll contact the Brazilian government and have you removed!"Richard's face began to redden. His fists remained clenched while his eyes focused on Wesley's. Wesley could care less about Richard's threats, or even his intentions. He did however care about his money, and there was no way Richard was going to get out of paying him. What he thought was easy and boring income now became exciting and intense. This was up his alley, just as it was up Richard's.The two would have had a standoff, but Kyser did what he did best, lead. He sliced between the two quarreling men and stated boldly, "Are there people living back here?" He said looking directly into Richard's eyes."Look! I have no Idea!""Well, damn it Richard. I know you're a thorough man, so why wouldn't you have already surveyed the land. I mean, you bring a civil engineer and now he's dead... and now you have his crew who seems to be worth diddly. Well maybe except for the two pilots. I mean what the...""Hey! Wait a minute now!" Klinton exclaimed. "I'm a surveyor as well, and I worked hand in hand with Brutus. I ain't got a degree, but shit... Shit! I'm damn near an engineer. So whatever the job, it still can be done. Shit, fuck a degree. Just because I ain't got the money to get a degree don't mean I can't learn the shit. Like I said, whatever the job, it still can be done.""Yeah... Well, Mr. Klinton, or whatever your last name is, you're not the only one who can do a few things around here. I'm a navigator, and I can sail you around the world."The professor scratched his chin and said to Kyser, "I think you offended a few people in your negotiation speech. Because I surely am. If there are people living back here, I think that you would all need me to negotiate.""Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend anyone," Kyser said mildly, a look of shame upon his face. "It's just that these two are getting out of hand.""You all just stop it, stop it!" Pam cried out. She felt things now deep as a soul touching her. Whatever the case may be, she wanted things quiet.Laughter poured from a few of the men as Wesley whispered loudly, "My, my are we getting a little touchy?"Pam ran off. The noise became too much to bear. "Pam! Pam! Officer Slaughter!" Kyser called out to her and commanded the gentlemen to follow her.Pam ran directly for her tent to lie down and go to sleep. She wanted to avoid what she was feeling and hearing. However, most of the crew went their separate ways caring less about Pam's masquerade. Andrew headed directly to check on his wife. Klinton decided to lie down just like Pam, but the rest of the crew seemed to have a little more energy to dissipate."Oh... baby! Are you alright?" Andrew kissed his wife on the forehead. "No one came to bother you?"She lay there, hesitant, prompting him to ask again. "What happened?""Oh, nothing... It's just that Adam tried to force his hands around me. I gave him that kick, and boo-yah. He was reminded of his place.""Oh hell no! What the fuck... you little pervert!" Andrew's rage soared as he reached to choke Adam. "You sick fuck, how could you put your fucking slimy hands on my... wife?"Andrew cried loudly as he shook Adam as if he was trying to shake something loose. Adam struggled to maintain his balance, but his sickness weakened him severely. Andrew roughed him up a little, with no regard to an illness. To him the illness was disrespecting his wife.Huge steps came from behind Andrew, followed by a hard kick in the ass, and now a tight hold had commandeered Andrew's assault. "Leave him alone, can't you see he's sick," replied Wesley."I don't care! He better not put his hands on my wife again!""Look wise guy. How'd you like it if I roughed you up?" That's exactly what Wesley intended. However, Roy Beavers had heard the ruckus and quickly broke the rampage up."Hey, hey, you guys cut it out." He split the men with his body and pushed them in opposite directions."Come on Roy, he's picking on poor Adam. If he weren't sick, I'm sure this bullying wouldn't happen.""I know Wes, but the guy said he's protecting his wife.""Hmmm... He better protect himself, because I'm about to...!""Hey, hey! Stop it!" Kyser exclaimed from a distance.Finally they stopped bickering, thanks to Roy and Kyser's intervention. Andrew's face showed that he was still upset, and you could hear it in his voice. "Come on dear!" He grabbed his wife and they headed for their tent. "Are you alright, baby?" These words were spoken softly and sincerely."Yes, baby. I'm fine. I could have handled myself." Her voice resembled that of kid engaged in show and tell.The rest of the crew could hear Andrew rumble big bad words regarding his standoff with Wesley. "That motherfucker came on me from behind. I should have popped him in the mouth as soon as that Roy guy broke us up. I can see now, I might have to pop him one.""Baby, just calm down. Everything is OK." She tried to calm him because he forgot now why he was so angry in the first place. It was because Adam tried to give his filthy germs to his loved one. He saw the condition he was in before they discovered Joe, and it was unbearable to be around. Except of course Pam's sensitivity rendered her immune to the sneezing, coughing, and wiping of mucous. She had a kind heart indeed, and they say that is where the soul rests.It seemed that Joe's innocently deceased soul had reached out to her. She wouldn't find out now because she was asleep.CHAPTER NINETEEN: THE VISIONIn her dreams, Pam pictured a baby, but the infant somehow was able to walk freely about the forest. It seemed innocent enough as the baby weaved through thick trees and vines. There was nothing seemingly threatening to the baby, and maybe for that reason Pam was drawn to the infant. She tried to catch up with the little one, but she gained no ground. Her stumbling over huge tree stumps, thick vines, and other various green life caused her attempts to gain terrain to come up lame. Her pace seemed to be afloat, and she had no control over her own movements. It caused her deep sorrow, but not sadness. For sorrow is an emotion of blessings from events you have no control over and that cause things to be in disarray, but sadness is something you can control. Therefore, sadness is an illness. The values you set for yourself cause one to be sad. This was sorrow because Pam had no control over the current situation, and she did feel sorrow. How these emotions are translated from sleep state to real time remains to be seen.Roy, Wesley, and Kyser gathered in real time and had a few adult beverages while plotting against Richard. It wasn't as though they thought he was a criminal, but they knew these two accidents weren't an accident and Richard seemed to know something. The fact needed investigating, but the two men were exhausted. Kyser had plans to pack it up in the morning and head back to the states."Hey, I advise you guys to pack up, because we're out of here in the morning. So you best get some Z's, because I mean... first thing in morning."They all took heed. It was quiet once everyone was asleep.The Kemps however remained eyes open engaging in what newlyweds usually parlay in. They got noisy and Susie wanted no one out here to know her exotic side. The moans and groans she loved to carry out were truly a sensational thing to listen to. They decided to run off so no one could hear them. They could really let it all out, like the animals they were, and they were in the proper place for their instincts. However, most mammals disengage in sexual activity once conception is achieved, but the Kemps knew nothing of nature and its fine tuning with life.Nevertheless, she wanted to experience an occasion in the jungle. It seemed it could be a fantasy from childhood, all of those adolescent years loving Tarzan and always thinking he was a hunk, even wondering about wandering off with him deep into the jungle where he would then rape her—but she enjoyed it. All of those years her mother cooped her up, she thought that was the way it was done. The animals on television showed her no differently. She had even believed her mother's scolding as a child, about boys and various other evil perceptions of sex, and so Susie started out as a Tomboy.Wearing her caps backward and beating up boys her age was just half the battle of her rocky childhood. But nearly growing up with a sexual identity crisis snapped at the loss of her virginity. Ironically, this event spawned a little hatred and disobedience towards her mother. It all happened at the age of seventeen. That particular night her parents had to leave in an emergency. Susie sat there watching television and she nearly fell completely asleep. However, a loud ring from the phone startled her wide awake. She thought it was her parents, but it was her drunken girlfriends. They laughed and giggled trying to entice an invitation out of Susie. She declined, because she had no idea when her parents would return home.Just moments after hanging up the phone, it rang again. It was her mom saying it would be tomorrow before they could get home. Susie sat back in the couch and gazed at the television, not really paying much attention. She thought about how much fun her friends seemed to be having and how bored she was. Her not expecting that call from her mom even crossed her mind gracefully. In fact, she had answered the phone with a commanding "no", which puzzled her mom. Susie thought she was her friends trying once again to convince her. But now Susie didn't need convincing, and she called her friends back and invited them all over.To this day her mother has no idea they had boys over getting drunk, and that all lost their virginity that night. Well some of her friends had experience and they plotted on Susie. The alcoholic beverages clouded her decision because it felt dangerously good to her, especially for it being her first time. Her being drunk caused her to feel no present pain. She lay there allowing a young man to stab all of his might in her. She realized how much that would have hurt if she weren't drunk the next morning. She could barely walk, and when her parents arrived home she remained in bed and claimed to be sick.After snapping out of her reverie, she and Andrew chose a huge tree with bulging roots to sit upon. He cornered her upon this huge tree and began kissing her rapidly. She moaned freely while returning kisses of equal or greater value. Her kisses were accompanied by caresses that were always soft and smooth. These acts of foreplay continued until they slid down the tree. Susie's hardly appropriate blouse obtained a rip from the bark that would cut you like fish scales, but it was unnoticed because they nearly ripped their clothes off. They perfected this art of mild aggression to the point in which the clothes would still be wearable.Andrew wasted no time in engaging into sexual intercourse with his wife. The circumstances seemed to be a rush, and that's what he did, because that's what filled him. Now that both of their eyes were either closed or blinkered they could no longer do any watching. However, there were always eyes watching them, from the moment they left their tents. This time they were in one spot the eyes could now focus on their targets.The chants and praises had begun the moment the King descended the horizon. It really never stopped, but faded further into the background in daylight. It really did go on now as the eyes watched closely. The mysticism had intensified proportional to those very same chants and praise, and also with the deepening of night. The dances the indigenous ones performed around specific trees helped as well, but that was deeper into the jungle, deeper than had ever been reached by civilization. The noise cascaded throughout and a silent roar came upon the entire rainforest.This didn't stop the eyes from watching. It only intensified as they watched the Kemps engage in indecent exposure. Andrew was on top of Susie with her hands stretched out. She gripped the tree roots to absorb the thrusts. He had to work hard to please a woman with her sexual past. Her hands were beautifully layered in jewelry he had brought her, and her fingers were long and slender and sported a French manicure. Absorbing all of Andrew's love and even throwing a little back, she was in bliss as she clung to the branches.Andrew had his leverage as well on those very same bulging roots. He placed both feet upon them and used them for pushing power, because those roots were strong, sturdy, and surely wouldn't give under measly human power and stretched in an uncontrollable pattern. Susie could even prop her head up on one of the many branches, the very same one her hands were stretched out upon. In fact, the tree's roots seemed pretty useful as it allowed Andrew thrust with much more love. He was no minute man; but indeed he was, because fifteen minutes into pure thrusting, they both were about to reach a rewarding climax.Susie was into this one because she'd already had two. The third would probably be the knock out blow she would welcome. In light of all this, she had no realization that she had no apparent control of her arms, which were no longer gripped atop the roots but now lay beneath them. The climax was coming and it made things for the moment all seem like a dream.However, the roots that lay on top of her beautiful hands started bearing down. She began to struggle a little, noticing that the grip got tighter and tighter. Andrew had his tongue down her throat so her distress calls were plugged with flesh. There were three options for her: to push him off, but her hands were sealed; the verbal command was obviously a no-go; and her last and final option was tough because Andrew had her legs pinned tightly with his arms while stroking fast and hard.The ground rumbled and Andrew started slowing his kisses down. Finally stopping, he could vaguely hear his wife squealing but his tongue had drained her ability to scream. He sensed she was in distress, but by the time it was clear, Susie was being pulled beneath the earth. The roots were responsible as they began to clamp down on Andrew's heels, immobilizing him. In fact, he screamed loudly as the roots broke both of his heels with such awesome power. Susie was now completely consumed and the roots gripped Andrew tightly and began to suck him beneath the earth. Their fate was suffocation from being squeezed by the limbs and buried alive.In Pam's dream she had heard Andrew scream, because at that moment she stood straight up in her sleep, and that moment she realized that she had lost the baby. The spiritualistic mysticism had sustained her in this deep sleep. Eventually, Pam fell back down and went into a deeper sleep.That instant the night, and specifically the area around camp, seemed gloomy. A dissident evil filled the air. Nature is often referred to as cruel and evil, but it's just the laws that were laid down. Whether it be a rodent being devoured by a wild beast or rain flooding the entire area, Nature's wrath was always thought to be spiritual in essence. If a stranger tried to run you away from your home, would you kill? Would you be killed? Most people would probably kill and this was the predicament the jungle inhabitants had to face. They were less civilized so this rule was probably second nature.Pam had been suddenly awakened, but only briefly. It seemed this awakening corresponded to the Kemps' vital signs. However, after their signs had terminated, that eerie roar was vibrant once again. It was not from some wild rainforest animal, but from fierce thunder that followed behind bright electrical bolts. Down poured rain and the crew scattered to their tents for cover. The droplets were heavy and the sounds from them hitting the ground muted everything, except for the activities of the cumulonimbus.They say life is energy, and what was in those clouds was as well. All who have died here may have had their spiritual energy merged, and because of that are forced to haunt this very jungle indefinitely. It also may intensify them. It may cause them to call out in rage. The rain that poured so heavily upon their tents made rhythms for their dreams, like hundreds of mini-drums being pounded on by little drummer boys using the tents as their drums and the rain as their sticks. It was surely horrific music to their hearts.The good hearted were filled with sorrow. The cold hearted were filled with terror. The aurora that filled the minds of the intruders were like dream invaders. It caused them to be pinned down with an inability to move and deflated any desire to awaken. The intensity of their emotions was no help in the matter. The rain seemed to represent something holding them down in this spot. It was like the clouds spit nails, and the impact pinned them down like a carpenter sealing plywood with an air-gun.However, the rain of nails pinned the crew to their dreams of sentient nature. It seemed they were trapped inside a bottle and they yelled at the top of their lungs, but no one heard them. They were too small to be seen, but they did scream, but only in the confines of their dreams.Richard tossed and turned but could not wake up, no matter how hard he tried. Voices echoed inside his sleeping brain. It was Mr. Neuheisil pressuring him. "What's going on, Richard? Why haven't we got that report yet? I know you want to seize this opportunity, so I wonder if there isn't something that you're not telling us."Richard faced Mr. Neuhesil and got a cool chill, because the rest of the investors surrounded him. They all agreed, especially the keen Winterlin. They all supported Mr. Neuhesil's scolding of him too. To Richard they looked like humans possessed by demons and they were just a nail clipping from eating him. Richard was terrified. So he ran off, but instead of running, he had levitation abilities. He floated off into the thick and dark forest scared out his wits.For some reason, a burning desire fueled Richard. This desire was geared toward getting the project done, because the investors struck horror within him. There was no awakening, so he had better fly off and get this project done like the demon investors suggested. He flew himself through the woods but he couldn't see a thing. Sweat poured down his face, giving testimony to his fright. He was also worried because he floated about the jungle alone.There were no clues surfacing as to how to please them. He worried more and more as he flew deeper and deeper. It got gloomy as he flew further in. It seemed like hope was overshadowed by darkness and all that could be seen were dark shades of massive trees. They too seemed to be possessed and might even devour him if he got too close.In his dream, Richard opened his eyes wider in an attempt to see, but he didn't realize his fear caused him not wanting to see. The only part of his body that worked above normal was his emotions. All emotions were tied to the mystic force, just as the Egyptians were tied to worshiping their sun. The only difference here was that Richard had no choice. Those same eyes that watched in real time watched in dream time, but this time Richard seemed to notice more of them.He went along with his deep emotional fear that attracted him to this long dark path. He got more nervous when he still could find no clues or anyone to help him. He knew the investors were demons, so he made himself cautious. For some strange reason, that feeling of being eaten wouldn't leave. Paranoia flamed up out of control like flares that helped to boil his blood.As he began to slow down, he felt panic from the uncertainty of his dreams. Why was he slowing down? What lay before him? The reason he was slowing down was the first of his concerns, but he really didn't figure out why he was moving. What he didn't have time to understand was that his fear and anxiety were directly related to his movements. As he came to a complete stop, his feelings climaxed upon connecting eye to eye with a painted face.His might have been the most wide open closed eyes that there have ever been. His face absorbed shock, but in a calm and restrained manner. He could not move. A stiff fearful stare was all that was allowed. Both sets of eyes did just that, but frustration wore down on Richard, because he wanted to run and could not. It was dark, but to Richard, the eyes captured all. This fact and that painted face grew his fears based solely on the ignorance of his misfortunes. Richard had already pointed his fingers. He grew a hate for those unknown eyes and all that they represented.The dreams intensified and Julian Akbar stood in the middle of the dark forest and wept. It was unclear if it was because he was lost in the forest or simply just a part of his dream. His excitement soared as he noticed love at first sight sifting through the forest. A nude indigenous woman ran playfully about. The professor's urge to follow became unbearable. The pursuit was initiated and sorrow glowed within him. He could not catch up, and the darkness made his prey fade away in the distance.His fear now began to rise when he realized he was not going to catch her. He found himself deep in the masses of trees and vines, but he never stopped the pursuit. The sorrow-fear balance fluctuated severely. For the moment, sorrow remained down on the see-saw as he tried so hard to catch that woman. There was no woman back home, so why not? Love haunted Julian because he never experienced it. The sad part was that this probably included his family and students. Loneliness contributed to his sorrows, but when the painted face man made an appearance it contributed to his fear.There he was, genitals wrapped in simple cloth and wearing nothing else to cover his body, except for the many different colors that patterned his face like some ritualistic tattoo. It did indeed conceal the identity of this man, but Julian had no problem seeing the spear he tightly gripped. All this happened instantly, because they were already in pursuit. Julian ran as fast as he could through the thick jungle, but he ran into a dead end. His life flashing before him sent a shockwave throughout his body as he looked up at what was blocking his way.It was a zombie version of Wesley, who had a thick snake wrapped around him like a skirt. There was also a snake around his neck. Wesley seemed abnormally large and the look of an animal seeking its prey. Julian swiftly cut left while continuing his getaway, but the man with the spear had just about gained on him.Mr. Akbar approached an open space in this dream world jungle. He gained a little relief when he noticed his comrades spread out. They stood there motionlessly staring at Akbar. Julian called out in distress, and a hand reached out to Akbar, but as the helper reached to help him, the spear was launched in his direction. He fell down abruptly as the spear pierced the throat of the helper. The body tumbled on top of Julian making it hard for him to get up. When he did get up, it was too late. He had been captured and carried off deep into the forest, possibly never to be seen again.The professor's captor was strong and well built. It was apparently simple for him to carry the professor quickly. Slouched over the indigenous one's back, the professor seemed helpless to escape. However, he was astonished at the manner in which his kidnapper traveled through the forest. It became apparent the native knew exactly where he was and where he was going.A huge ceremony was going on in the middle of the forest before a tremendous bonfire. There were dancers that performed a ritual. A huge barrier of massive trees separated an area from the rest of the forest. The professor's heart pounded as he sensed something. This heart pounding sensation became noticeable to Julian causing him to worry. He knew that South American cultures performed ceremonies in which the heart is extracted using a priest's bare hands. There were all kinds of myths revolving around the heart. It was thought that is where that little speck of light in every living being shines so brightly, the burning point that empowers the soul.This particular culture believed a sacrifice of the heart at noon would be a sacrifice to the sun god. This would send the sacrificed's soul straight to the heavens, to perhaps become a star to guide generations to come. The fact that it was nighttime puzzled the professor. He recalled learning that, if performed at the crescent of a full moon midnight, then a soul could be banned to the underworld. This truly frightened him. Although his colleagues thought the subject matter to be myth, Julian had taken to heart some of those myths. The fact that this could be performed on him didn't sit well.However, the ceremony already seemed to be in progress. All of a sudden he was slung to the ground next to some tribal woman. It appeared to be the one he was chasing. However, before he could even rejoice his victory in capturing his loved one, he sensed something about to happen. There were guards all around him. They began to push him and the woman forward as the drums increased their rhythm.The professor's eyes were grim when he looked behind him and noticed those guards were Jerry and Briscoe. Fear was increased by the fact that a spear was lodged through Briscoe's throat and a huge chunk seemed to have been bitten off of Jerry's face. The professor screamed to be awakened, but could not awaken no matter how hard he tried.CHAPTER TWENTY: THE GOLDEN KINGThe golden king's ray pierced the horizon, banning all darkness and all who dwelled spiritually. The spirits were the first to dissipate in the glorious sunlight. The small nocturnal rodents and insects followed. However, there were some who did not fear the sunlight, but enjoyed it dearly. The crew members were the main ones because it was the only thing to help them break their sleep.Another happy candidate was Edward Pullins. It wasn't because he experienced the stress and turmoil of his suspect's crew, but he seemed actually anxious to be on his way to South America. He had never been outside the country, and to be going on an unauthorized bounty hunt awed him. Edward Pullins gave praise to Nick's valiant stand in rejecting his request to guide him. He had no clue as to why Nick was so reluctant to return. Edward had no real interest on why, so he boarded the prepared flight with no hesitation.Although rejection still entangled his emotions, he was surely glad he was on his way. Thoughts of heroic proportions coupled with courage and bravery slithered through all of his veins. Just like running water, but in his case, the movement of emotionally contaminated blood from the heart to the thinking muscle, supplied his thoughts with the fuel he needed to capture Richard.Edward was also a little uneasy. He wasn't sure why he was so excited. A tingling feeling ran through his spine and caused him concern, because it was the same way he felt this morning when he abruptly awoke. He considered it with humor because he never really remembered his dreams, but this one was vaguely with him still. Simple flashes and glimpses were all he had at his disposal. He tried to block them out by gazing out of the window and putting much emphasis on small items getting smaller.He didn't remember fully, but enough to experience the chills throughout his nervous system. It also seemed to be associated with his desire to get to the town of Macapa. The town was mysterious to him because he knew nothing of it, but this town he'd never heard of before had all the importance in the world. His eagerness to reach his prize, Richard's capture, boiled within him. He understood the what and who he was after, but he failed to comprehend the why.Nevertheless, there was a deep passion now for Richard's capture, no matter the cost. That very determination could be the reason for Edward's success or failure. This mental frenzy made time seem to go fast because the next thing he knew it was about thirty minutes before arriving in Macapa. These last thirty would take a toll because his mental stability began to falter. He thought about those dreams, in flashes and pulses, causing him to nod his head against the window. It appeared migraines took over but he was actually thinking about Gunther. What would he say if he knew where he was headed? All these emotions fueled his desire, and before long he would see what he was up against.Kyser Finley was almost the first to be roused by the piercing sun, but in this case, the severe humidity that followed a night full of rain was king of a day that was destined to be scorching. The only relief anyone had was from the thick umbrella the jungle formed with its trees and vines. It wasn't hard for Kyser to be one of the first to awake—his severe itch made sure of that. However, the intense dreams that the pouring rain seemed to cause were the only reason his irritation didn't keep him from sleeping.One of the few signs of daybreak was the sun clearing the pour of hydrogen double teaming oxygen. The sun could only be seen partially in patches of the jungle, and this was at high noon. The sun was not the only thing to rise, for the heat did the same."Ahhg," screamed Adam. He continued in a painful way. Pam seemed to be only one to hear him, or at least the first to show a little concern. Kyser actually was the first, but he ignored the man's screaming for a moment. Then he did peek inside Adam's tent."Oh my, are you alright Adam? You look like shit."Adam didn't respond in a communicable way, but by undecipherable moans and groans."Hold on man, I'll go get Pam." Kyser released his hands from the crease of the tent bearing a look of disgust."Oh, oh, oh," Adam tossed and turned and never did get any sleep. The sickness had taken over and was the main reason he now spoke in groans."Pam!" Kyser yelled. "Pam, could you please see about Adam? He looks like... I don't know, I guess shit."Pam replied softly, "You don't look well yourself. Look at this," she said as she grabbed his arm and exhibited some severe bruises. They were extremely red and appeared to want to blister. "Look at these bruises. How did this happen?"Kyser snatched his hand away and replied in a defensive way, "I don't know. Maybe it's poison ivy."Pam looked at him with ridicule and advised, "Oh no, I don't think this is poison ivy. I really don't know what it is.""Well, that's because you're not a doctor. You're an FBI agent.""You know... it really doesn't take a doctor to know this isn't poison ivy. It appears to be something more severe." Pam pulled his arms closer and noticed multiple abrasions. "Come here, Ky!" She lifted his shirt to examine his body and noticed severe scratch wounds he had applied to himself throughout the course of the night."Oh dear," Pam cried with dire empathy."I'm fine!" Kyser exclaimed forcefully. "While we're sitting here lollygagging about a few scratches and bruises, Adam seems to be about to burn up.""What? Did you take his temperature?""Do you see a fucking thermometer or do I look like a medic to you. I figured... well because he's sweating real bad, and he looks like he really wants to die. So can you help him? Shit, you're the woman, and you're more fit for that nursery type stuff."Pam looked at Kyser in despair, gathered her med kit and rushed over to help poor Adam.Kyser followed her briefly, but quickly veered to gather the others. He slipped his hands through the crack of Roy's tent and exclaimed, "Hey Roy, get up!""I'm already up! I couldn't help but be up because of your loud mouth. Are you still itching? I noticed that last night. Did something bite you?""You sound like Pam.""Oh yeah, well then maybe she was right.""About what? That I need to be treated? Well, I know that, but I see no one here is a doctor, are they!""That's funny you would mention that. I had a funny dream last night. I couldn't awake from it. It seemed some doctor was trying to kill a man. The man...I think was trying to get here. Yeah, here right where we are. Hmm...I think he was trying to tell us something."Kyser chuckled. "What was he trying to tell us? Was he trying to warn us that someone was trying to kill us too? Ha! If there is any vision to your dream then it still wouldn't come true, because we will be long gone. We are getting the heck out of here. Adam looks like he might be the next one to die, and because we partially witnessed this tragedy it's only our duty to get the body home. Besides, now the one we need to do the survey is dead, who's going to do the job? No reason for us to be here.""Yeah, I guess you're right, and I don't believe your friend is telling us all there is to know.""Oh dear, look at you! You need to be in a hospital somewhere," said Pam. "Come here!" She went to take Adam in her arms to comfort him, but at the same time fondled through her med kit. These actions made one wonder why she was not a nurse."I'm cold Pam," uttered Adam in a soft and squeaky voice seemingly on a verge of collapse. Sweat poured down his face."Listen Adam! You have to tell me what you may have come into contact with."Adam rolled over in Pam's arms, staring in her eyes with a look of defeat. "I..I..I'm not sure.""Did something bite you? Maybe it was poisonous. Did you touch some kind of plant? I need to know because Kyser seems to have been affected too, but you guys seem to be affected differently."Pam tried hard to get information out of Adam. The first gesture Adam released was a horrendous sneeze that resulted in a swift head maneuver by Pam to deter her face from being the bull's eye. It also manifested sarcastic remarks from her crew members."I hope that isn't contagious," Kyser said.Pam looked in despair but didn't let that stop her from administering warmth and comfort for Adam."You take good care of him!" declared Wesley. "Poor Adam. We need to get him home.""I think you're right, Roy!""So, what is the plan?" Wesley demanded an answer. He had just recently joined the crew and felt behind on the agenda."I think we need to inform Richard of our departure—no need for us here. We also need a little medical attention." Kyser stared at Pam specifically and continued, "I think we are all men, and a little flu and itching won't hurt. We'll be home by tomorrow."The three FBI agents left for Richard's tent. They all rushed to his tent like it was a stake out, and they were US Marshals on a bounty hunt."Hey! Rich! Rich!" Mr. Finley chanted sharply.Something enormous had gotten into Richard because he was just waking out of a nightmare. He greeted the men before they could even reach his tent bearing the look and actions of a telepathy informed individual."Yes, gentlemen?""Rich! We need to talk." Kyser spoke softly and firmly in due respect for his friend. He wanted to make one thing clear. "We're packing it up.""What! What do you mean?""I mean exactly what I said...""Yeah! I think he understands perfectly.""Wesley...I'll handle this! You know Richard, you act surprised.""It's just that I know this situation is tough, but I haven't gotten much done.""Much done? What the fuck? Is this guy crazy?" said Wesley.Kyser calmed Wesley down by placing his hands upon him to restrain him. Richard stood tall, not scared a bit. His project was of utmost importance, so he continued his rebuttal."Look, I don't need much longer, perhaps one more day. This night wasn't so bad.""I think you need to speak for yourself. I had a terrible nightmare last night and wouldn't care to be here another night." Roy had finally gotten a word in on the discussion. He was good spirited because he felt he was heard."I think the decision is unanimous—we're getting out of here," said Wesley.Kyser had eye contact with Richard, but slowly drifted his eyes away. "Hey, tell Pam to come here," Kyser commanded and someone did just that.Klinton Westfield had no problem sleeping late, but today couldn't match his record. I guess the night sleep wasn't pleasant, and the commotion outside worked his eardrum. He climbed out of tent with anger on his face, "Shit!" It wasn't the ideal place to wake up to. The muggy air disgusted him. The slick surface caused by the rain made walking a slippery ordeal. The heat and humidity seemed to be direct forces acting upon his grief.He trotted on to get his friends, the ones he could relate to Andrew and Susie. Trying so hard to walk through the muddy terrain, Klinton looked even more disgruntled when he noticed their tent were empty. He then disregarded the problems the mud caused and rushed to the others.Klinton swept his way through Briscoe's tent, observing him lying there motionless. However, after looking for a moment, Briscoe raised his head just to look at Klinton for a moment. He then collapsed backwards onto his sleeping mat. Klinton made sure Jerry was awake, which wasn't easy, but no one had seen Andrew."No one has seen Andrew and Susie!""Who!?""The pilots, you idiot. They're nowhere to be found."Just about everyone heard and gathered around Klinton."You mean no one has seen them?""Hey, hey, calm down. They were probably up early to check on the helicopters, but how about you and Pam go and check on the helicopters, anyway. You probably will find them on the way there."Richard was not fond of Kyser's last comments and advised, "Look, you insist on leaving, but I had no idea these people would end up dying. Obviously what happened were just accidents, and that's no reason to stop working. I mean work continues just like life. I think we need to ship the bodies off so they can get a proper burial and then simply finish our jobs.""Wait a minute, what about your friend Brutus? He just perished recently, and how is still a mystery. I think we are dealing with morals issue here. I mean, at what point are we disrespecting the dead?""Well, there will be no burial for the Kemps because I'm going to find them!" Klinton said and ran off."Wait a minute! We are a team. Don't go running off and getting lost.""Well, I don't see us going far without the pilots."That tuned got the crew's attention. "OK, first why don't you and Pam go and check the helicopters while we search around here.""Wait a minute! I don't work for you or any one of you.""Well, what's your name again?" said Wesley sarcastically. He then pointed at the lifeless Brutus while vocally expressing himself. "You see, there's your boss. It seems he's not going to do you much good."There was no time for bickering, so Kyser interrupted. "Look! Gentlemen. We all need team work, and if you want to get out of here ASAP, then I suggest we work together. We also need to be wary of those traps that got Brutus in this predicament.""You think one of the pilots is caught in one of those terrible traps?" uttered Pam.Klinton showed her support. "Yeah, I think I need to find my friends.""If we don't see about the helicopter, we're going nowhere any way, so that is the priority."Richard obviously did not like what he was hearing, and it wasn't long before he felt it unbearable to go unheard any longer. "Everyone, we seemed to get over our panic. You act as if something is out to get us. I mean, these were freak accidents. We all know things like this don't happen often, so it is highly unlikely that anything like this will happen to those of us who remain. What about the brave citizens who decide they will do whatever it takes to feed their families...""Shit, feed my family. What the fuck this guy's talking about?""The point I'm trying to make is that many people lost their lives working in coal mines or on huge dams so our country could have sufficient energy, or what about the miners who mine your precious rocks and metals so that you can persuade lust to be the commander of your sins. We are those brave citizens. We have a job to do, and you are on my payroll—a contract has been signed."Kyser cut his eyes at Richard. "Wait a minute, Richard. What about Brutus? He's dead. I...I I thought my friend had more compassion than that."Richard looked at himself and visibly straightened himself up. "You're right! Look, I have access to a funeral home on the third island to the east. Jerry and Briscoe can escort the bodies, for an extra incentive of course. That way Brutus's body will be preserved until we finish.""Richard, but wasn't he the engineer, and the only one qualified for the job.""Yes, but Klinton Westfield is an officer of his company, and I'm sure he can finish the remaining tasks. It's just a simple report to my investors that this is an ideal spot for my project. Brutus spoke highly of Klinton."Klinton was baffled. "He did!?""Yes Klinton, he advised me that you were the head honcho, next to him. Also, that his teachings were soaking in and you were now equivalent to a Masters in civil engineering. Your scholastics don't mean a thing since the report will be filed under the company's name."Klinton could not conceal a grin. "Well, I guess you're right. I am skilled at what I do, but never will I work for your sleaze bucket type."Kyser broke the spell with soft words. "Pam! You and Klinton, see about those helicopters. I'm pretty sure your friends just went to check on our ride home.""Ahhg... Ahhg," echoed from the only unchecked tent.The crew approached the cries with caution and a bit of worry. Julian Akbar emerged from his tent only to face incomprehensible stares and glares."What! What are you looking at? I had a nightmare and couldn't seem to awaken from it.""Well, everyone has had a shaky night, but it will be the last one.""Oh really. I thought we were here another day or so.""There's been a change of plans."The professor wondered what the problem was. "Where's Richard!" He was truly ignorant at the moment. "Can some one catch me up to speed.""Well we sent Pam and Klinton to meet the Kemps.""Meet the Kemps? Where?""I think they may have gone to check on the helicopters.""You think?""Well, we actually don't know where they are at the moment, but we're guessing where else they could be. It's obvious they got up slightly earlier and did what any good pilot would do.""And what's that Kyser?""Take care of their pride.""Pride, Kyser?""You know Kyser speaks sometimes in backward hieroglyphs.""Yes, pride in the vessel in which they pilot."CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: THE SEARCHThe heat of the day rose significantly along with bird songs and animal language. The humidity played the major role because the other heat source was mostly blocked by the massive trees that lay along the path Pam and Klinton took. The trees towered massively above their heads and gave true meaning to the concept of a jungle.Pam and Klinton traveled this path briskly, and lucky for them there was daylight. The two hadn't said much for the first twenty or so meters, but Klinton followed behind with a keen eye. He wondered why she was so interested in the different plant life."So, Agent Slaughter...""Oh, call me Pam. I think that at a time like this, Pam is more suitable.""Well Pam, what brings you into crime fighting.""I guess God's grace.""Well, where did you get your degree? Don't you have to have a degree to be an FBI agent?""I was military.""You didn't go to college?" said Klinton, surprised."I could have. I even turned down several scholarships that were offered to me, but...""But what!? I wish I had that chance to go to college. What, were you smart or something?""Of course, but that's not why they offered me scholarships. I was a sports person.""What in Heaven's name makes you want to fight for Uncle Sam.""Well, I always dreamed of being in the army. You might laugh, but I think that, because I played sports at such an early age, and I remember that commercial, 'Be all you can be, in the army.'" Pam had sung it just as she remembered it. "I think my competitive nature in sports was sometimes fueled by that theme song. It really affected my desires in dreaming to be a high ranking official with the armed forces. High ranking women is what they lacked, if anything was inadequate about our military.""Well! That just goes back to the question I asked you before. How did you become an FBI agent?""Oh, well I found out the armed forces had me living a dream.""What, you didn't move up at all?""Sure, I moved up. But most promotions were simple pay increases and had no true value. It led me to believe a woman would only be considered for advancement to just so high a rank and then be stuck. Of course they give you the impression you have a chance, but you really don't. I just basically gained as high a rank as I could get, or really as far as my patience would allow. I don't know, I guess I decided to apply and here I am.""Oh, here you are! Ha! This is your idea of a job?""Hold up just one minute. It appears to me that your job has you right here with me." Pam was surprisingly feisty in her comments and gestures, seemingly quite the contrary of one of Pam's compassion.Klinton picked up on her novel actions. "My, you sure are...""That's enough about me—what about you? And why are you here?" Pam's tone varied from this innocuous question. She tried to walk fast through the path, but her interest in various plants hindered rapid passage.Pam suddenly stopped to bend over with the sexiest of appeal. Klinton watched the splendor as she examined a piece of plant life."This, my dear, isn't a time for picking roses. In case you're not informed, I want to go home. I can show plenty of places back home where you can go gardening.""Will you be quiet? I'm trying to see something.""Do you mind me asking what?""The guys back there are sick, and I'm wondering if they might have come in contact with something unpleasant."Klinton leaned his body for a closer look and advised, "Yeah, I think that would account for unpleasant. Look! It has those prickly things all along its stem. They look like little green needles waiting to rupture one's flesh.""I'm not sure if Adam or Kyser has come in contact with this. I don't even know if this plant would cause those symptoms.""I suppose you don't care to test it."Pam looked at Klinton ridiculously. "Here, give me that." She pointed at what Klinton was holding in his hand."What are you going to do? Take a sample, or something. You better be careful with that." He reluctantly handed over the requested item.She proceeded to take the plant, trying her hardest not to get pricked. "Hey! Be careful, what the hell you gonna do make a vaccination or something... Doc!"Pam looked at him and thought, how the hell am I gonna do that? She responded, "No, I'm not a doctor, and I doubt if any doctor could synthesize a vaccine from a plant on the spot. We barely have adequate equipment to take temperatures or make bandages."The plant was secured and they continued on their journey. As usual Pam darted out in front, fearless of the daytime forest setting. Klinton had no objections to this. He enjoyed the view better trailing Agent Slaughter, and what a beautiful view she gave."Pam," said Klinton with ulterior motives. "You're a sexy woman."Pam stopped in her tracks and exclaimed, "What!?""Oh, oh, I'm just kidding. I didn't mean to say you were sexy. I mean, I mean, I, you're a sexy woman, I just didn't mean to tell you that... at this moment."Klinton stopped and looked at Pam. He pondered if revising those comments was even necessary. It didn't matter much, because Pam looked at him briefly and carried on."Wait a minute Pam, slow down," he said, sprinting to catch up as his eagerness grew for his next line of questioning. "Are you married, Pam?""Oh now you're hitting on me.""No! No, that's not true. I'm not hitting on you or anyone else. I don't even carry myself in that manner, just small talk. You must want someone to hit on you.""No!"A grin descended upon Klinton's face as the two developed meaningful small talk. Klinton was still astonished by Pam's figure and purposely allowed her to walk faster."You sure aren't having a problem with this mud," Klinton cried as frustration built because the mud attacking of his shoes."I was just bred to endure severe conditions, also not to whine about uncomfortable situations." Pam spoke with confidence while not breaking stride."Oh I guess that's a part of the job.""Exactly!""Oh, so when that snake jumped out at you, you endured then too didn't ya?" Klinton laughed, but no response came from Pam.The approaching of the path's end was eminent and the sight of the helicopters would soon be obtained. The sight of those blades poured relief into the hearts of Pam and Klinton. As they got closer, Klinton couldn't help but exclaim, "I don't think I see anyone. If the Kemps aren't here, then where are they? How are we going to get home?"Pam had a keen eye, and as usual was slightly ahead. "Yeah, something's not right, Klinton.""What do you mean?"Pam reflected silence again as she approached their ride home."Damn!""What! What," Klinton balked excitedly."Look at that. The helicopters are nearly engulfed in water."The relief now dissipated, leaving them exasperated with fear. The water was just about to the entrance of the doors. "The helicopter must have landed on a soft spot and caused some sinking, because it's under mud a bit. I hope this won't hinder take off. Mr. Klinton, do you know anything about helicopters? It is a shame because I could have registered for pilot classes through the FBI but was fearful of flying. Anyhow, I wonder why they would have landed here.""Hey, don't question my friends. They're good pilots, and who would have known it would rain so hard last night? I see rainforest is a fitting name.""I'm not attacking your friends. We need to find them. But let me check something."Pam examined closely, wondering how right she might be. Swishing and swooshing was the result of them finally getting their hands on the helicopters. Pam dipped her hand underneath the water while leaning the other hand against the helicopter."What are you doing?"Pam said nothing immediately, but merely looked exasperated by the feelings of thick gooey mud that buried the helicopters' landing sleds."Are you trying to lift the helicopter? Ok, miss Hercules!""Shut up and just give me a hand."Klinton did so, but hesitated from the unsettled feeling of liquid dirt. There was no budging these big air vehicles, and now worry and frustration entered their facial expressions. After giving it one final jolt, Klinton declared, "I don't think we're going to budge it.""Let's check the other one." Pam rushed over several meters to the left to administer the same efforts, but to no avail. She found it was even deeper."Come on let's tell the others.""Tell the others what! That we aren't going home?""No Klinton! Aren't your friends missing?""Yeah!""I think they will be the ones to fly us away from here, so we need to tell the others that they weren't here, and unless we find them, we're stuck.""Oh no, I'm not stuck. There's a science boat off shore. I'll make Jerry's ass navigate me the fuck out of here.""Oh that's right, a group of you did come by boat. You see we have a way home, after all."They darted down the same path, omitting flower picking this time. This time they were pretty much even because Klinton cared not to indulge himself in the view from behind the agent anymore. There were other things on their minds."You must have been close to those pilots."Klinton looked at Pam while keeping his same pace. "Well, we did work together, so we kind of got to know each other. You know I used to think Andrew became friends with me for some ulterior motive.""Oh, what motive was that?""I can't be sure, but we didn't have many words for each other before... and I think his wife came on to me, at the time they weren't yet married, but I had no interest in her. I think Andrew thought otherwise.""Well, how did you become friends?""That's funny, because Susie invited me to a function she and her husband were to attend, and I got the feeling he wasn't too fond of the idea. I think she had him whipped a little. She kind of told him what to do non-verbally, if you get my drift."Klinton had Pam's full attention, but questions loomed and caused a curious reply. "Well, you still haven't told me how you became friends. I get the drift, but... So I guess she encouraged this friendship.""Exactly!""Did she ever come on to you? You know, like you came on to me earlier.""No, and I didn't try you!""Hmm I'm surprised she didn't.""No, you got it all wrong. She wasn't thinking like that, besides they were engaged.""You're not that gullible.""What! I am not gullible. You know, I have never had any one tell me that?""I hope you know, Mr. Westfield, that there's a difference between being gullible and being stingy. Or being firm, or just plain out mean, and you've become apparent to me.""Hold up now, this is a prejudgment. That's why I don't have a woman now.""Yeah, I think you're right," she replied comically and with a sarcastic expression."You know what? You're something else.""You're something else too. At least I know why I don't have a partner, but why don't you?""That's none of your business.""I think you're scared. Yeah, I see that little brave heart over there does weep for fear at times. Just like everybody else.""Hmm, thank God it doesn't matter what you think.""It matters what everyone thinks, because God speaks through the people, so you should listen to everyone, rich or poor. Something you may not be able to grasp yet in your development.""Well congratulations, you're finally making sense, but the majority of the time you have a hard time obtaining clarity.""Clarity? What the hell is this: Speaking 101? Damn! Mini-athlete, mini-Hercules, and now you're a speech expert. I guess we can call you a Renaissance woman.""You're not funny at all.""Oh, I'm not trying to be. It's just that we have here is the American dream, who's terrified of snakes. If we ever get out of this shambles, you're sure to make the headlines: 'Renaissance FBI agent overcomes her phobia of snakes to escape the trenches of the wild jungle.'""Ha! Chuckle. Chuckle," softly spilled from Pam's lips. "You are a fool.""No baby, I think you're mistaken. I haven't been fooled. I know what's going on. Yeah, I know exactly what's going on.""Oh, what's going on then?" Pam replied with a smile."I'm feeling you. That's what's going on. You're a beautiful, intelligent, and durable woman. If I did have a woman, it wouldn't be a problem choosing you.""Hmm, I told you. You're coming on to me.""No, no. I just speak the truth. If that's coming on to you, then by golly I'm guilty."Pam was just a little flattered, but the moment was halted because camp was just ahead."Kyser, Kyser," yelled Pam as sight of the rest of the crew became possible. They heard her cries and responded instantly."Pam! What is going on?""The helicopters seem useless and the Kemps are nowhere to be found""What do you mean useless?""They must have landed on some soft spot because last night's rain caused them to sink under mud and water.""What! Wait a minute. The helicopters are drowned in water.""No. Not completely. The inside isn't flooded, but the landing sleds are deep under water and mud. Like a car stuck in mud, but this seems to be worse. We weren't sure if the helicopters could still take off.""Where are the pilots?" exclaimed Kyser."I don't know. They were nowhere around.""Well, who's going to take us home," cried Klinton.Silence loomed until Kyser broke that. "Briscoe, aren't you a pilot?"He hesitated to respond, but then said, "Yes!""Well speak up! Can those helicopters take off?""That depends. I would have to see.""Let's go!"Klinton replied, "What about Andrew and Susie—they must be found. Don't forget about my boss, who you're letting decay here. What happened to everyone's morals? I know I want to get home more than anyone out here, but damn!"Pam was the first to stop and listen to Klinton's worries, and the crew followed shortly after."Klinton's right. We need to find them," said Pam."May I suggest that there's a helicopter on the first island. I can pick it up if Jerry boats me," Briscoe uttered."OK, fine, then. We'll stick to Rich's plan initially. Take the body to the spot Rich mentioned and you can pick the chopper up. Richard, are they on the same island?"There was no response, but it didn't stop Kyser's questioning. "How long will this take, Jerry?!""I'm not sure. How far away is the place from here?""If we take that big boat, it may take six or seven hours. So that's not including the time we will need to go ashore.""You mean it could be over half the day before you all return, twelve fucking hours before we can even begin to get happy about leaving? It could be dark by then. What time does the sun set around here anyway?""Calm down Klinton. That gives us ample time to search for your friends. In case we have no luck in finding your friends, I want to still test those choppers. So Briscoe, you and Jerry get back here ASAP. Maybe we can pry them loose with help from the other helicopter""Maybe?""Yeah, well maybe we need to form teams! Jerry and Briscoe, obviously you two are together. Pam, you stay with Adam, and Richard you with me. Roy and Wesley you guys stay together."While Kyser pointed the teams to their responsible areas to search, the professor wondered why he was not included. "Hey what about me. You forgot about me. Don't you people know genius when you see it?""OK, I'm sorry! Stick around and help Pam."Julian had a look like he was depressed that he was unappreciated on his face. He felt as if they were disregarding his use to the team. With his head down, he headed off to aid Pam's efforts.Jerry and Briscoe prepared the last motorboat and dumped the dead body aboard. A huge thump sounded from the tossing of Brutus, and Jerry said, "This is creepy man. I never seen a dead body, and I already have seen two today. It's creepy, isn't it? I mean, my boss right here dead, whoa! I didn't like it when he used to command me around and work me to death. Ha! I guess I get the last laugh."Briscoe had no words and really felt exhausted because Jerry began running his mouth profusely."Fitting, such a fate for a hardworking man like the old Brut."Briscoe said nothing during Jerry's pauses for air, and the sound of the motor gave rhythm to his ears. It was his only escape from the verbal pyrotechnics Jerry put on."You know what, he even tried to scam us on our pay. Oh, he didn't tell us how much your boss was paying on this trip. And all I've been through. This fucking heat, I know I'm used to the heat, but goddamn, unknown things biting you. At least where I'm from we knew what it was that bit ya. I'll bet you can't tell me what that is biting you now."Briscoe looked down and slapped his hand against the creature, and Jerry clutched the corpse of his previous boss in a serious grip declaring, "Whoa, what if I happened to drop you in the drink? I wouldn't say the gators would mind. One tried to eat me because of this misfortunate trip you volunteered us for."Briscoe said, "Oh, you almost got eaten by a crocodile. Hah, that's funny." Briscoe surely was amused, chuckling so hard he almost mis-steered the boat. A swerve in the commanding Amazon caused both to grip the boat. Jerry dropped the dead one to make sure he didn't have a second round with those reptiles."Hey man, watch it. I've already been swimming for the day.""You idiot, the day just started.""I mean yesterday—you know what I mean. Shit. Ever since I came to this jungle my sense of time has been screwed up."The boat was under good control now and they were on their way down the river. It was fairly peaceful along the way. The sun was piercing and more so because they weren't protected by the massive canopy of trees that lie on both sides of the river.Jerry watched the bow of the boat slice through the river causing a ripple of waves. "I've never seen fish like this, they're swimming so harmoniously."Briscoe took a look and replied, "Those are piranhas, and they aren't as forgiving as a crocodile.""I'll bet. I ought to feed them a Brutus meal."Briscoe shook his head and continued to steer the small motorboat. "Hey, Jerry! It's time for you to get ready to take over."Jerry stood up and gazed at the science vessel ahead. "It sure is a lovely boat. I wouldn't mind having it.""Well pretend it's yours and maybe you will get us where we need to be safely.""Oh, you don't question my abilities, do you? You know I've been raised around boats since I was yea big. You know when I was eight, me and my dad went on a fishing trip far out on the lake, and he got too damn drunk. The motherfucker passed out, and oh yeah, he's a motherfucker or else I wouldn't be here. I had to get us home. I was scared as shit, especially when I tried to wake his drunk ass. I really didn't know which way to go, or even how to turn the boat. I mean I watched my dad, but he hadn't got around to teaching me yet. I figured if I could turn the boat around and keep it straight, we could run into shore at some point. Luckily, we ended up right back where we started, but that trip made him teach me right away. I thank Jesus for that. He really cared for me then, but since I've become a man he hasn't shined down on me much."Jerry needed a breath giving time for Briscoe to respond unenthusiastically. "Touching story! I hope that you are finished because it's time to board your boat and get it moving.""Sure, I'm ready. Let's get it together."The two had a task ahead of them that would prove to be their fate, and the cessation of their sentient being.CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: THE APPROACHING STORMThe air grew thick with something more than humidity. Something ancient stirred beneath the canopy, and the forest itself seemed to hold its breath.Edward Pullins had been in Macapa for less than an hour when he felt it—a pressure behind his eyes, a whisper at the edge of hearing. He'd chartered a small boat upriver, following Nick's vague directions toward the last known coordinates of Richard's expedition. The local pilot had refused to go further than the first tributary, citing "bad spirits" and "rainy season madness."Edward didn't believe in spirits. He believed in evidence, in handcuffs, in the weight of a case file that would finally bring a rich man to justice.But now, watching the jungle close in on both sides of the narrow river, he wasn't so sure.The chants began at dusk.At first, Edward thought it was his imagination—the rhythmic pounding of wood on wood, the harmonic wailing of voices raised in something between prayer and warning. But the sound grew louder as his boat drifted deeper into the green maze. His pilot crossed himself three times and refused to go further."It's okay," Edward said, though he wasn't sure it was. "I can walk from here."The pilot didn't argue. He practically threw Edward's bag onto the muddy bank and reversed the boat with remarkable speed.Edward stood alone in the jungle as the light faded. The chants surrounded him now—coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. He gripped his service weapon and began walking toward the sound.Far ahead, the expedition camp was in chaos.The Kemps had been found—or what remained of them. Klinton had discovered Andrew's body first, half-swallowed by the roots of a massive tree, his body twisted at impossible angles. Susie was beneath him, her beautiful hands still clutching the bark that had pulled her under. The tree had absorbed them like nourishment, like they were nothing more than fertilizer for its ancient hunger."No, no, no," Klinton whispered, falling to his knees. "Not them too. God, not them too."Pam stood behind him, her hand on his shoulder. She felt the sorrow rising in her chest, but she pushed it down. There was no time. The light was fading, and the chants were growing louder."We need to move," she said softly. "We need to get back to the others."Klinton looked up at her, his eyes wet with grief. "How? How do we get out of this? The helicopters are useless. The boat is gone. And now... now everyone is dying."Pam squeezed his shoulder. "We survive. That's how."They made their way back to camp, but the camp was no longer safe.The ground was moving.Richard felt it first—a tremor beneath his feet that had nothing to do with earthquakes. He'd been arguing with Wesley again, trading threats about jurisdiction and payment, when the roots began to writhe."Shut up," Richard said suddenly."Excuse me?" Wesley stepped closer. "You don't tell me to—""I said shut up! Do you feel that?"The ground shifted beneath them. Nearby, a massive tree groaned like a living thing in pain. The roots that had consumed the Kemps now stretched toward the camp, slow and deliberate, like fingers reaching for prey."What the hell?" Wesley drew his weapon. "What's happening?"The chants answered him. Louder now, closer, as if the singers had surrounded the camp entirely.Richard's face went pale. "The ritual," he whispered. "The ritual they've been performing every night. It's real. It's all real.""What ritual?" Kyser demanded, staggering toward them. His body was covered in weeping sores, his eyes glassy with fever. "What the hell are you talking about?"Richard's voice cracked. "The natives. The ones I saw the first time, when Joe died. They've been doing something—calling something. I thought it was just... I thought it was just superstitious nonsense. But the traps, the deaths, the way the jungle moves...""You knew," Wesley said, his voice dangerously quiet. "You knew about them, and you brought us here anyway.""I needed the survey completed! The investors, the timeline—""You needed your money." Wesley raised his weapon. "You've been lying since the beginning. Joe didn't just disappear, did he? You did something to him.""Joe's dead," Richard said flatly. "He fell into a trap just like Brutus. I didn't kill him, but I let him die. I let all of them die because I needed this project to succeed."The confession hung in the air like smoke.Then the ground collapsed.CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: THE EARTH SWALLOWSThe camp dissolved into chaos.The rain came first—a torrential downpour that seemed to fall from nowhere, drenching everything in seconds. But it wasn't just rain. The water carried something with it, a scent of rot and ancient earth, of things buried too long and now rising."Get to higher ground!" Kyser shouted, but his voice was swallowed by the roar.The roots moved faster now, snaking through the mud like serpents. One caught Roy Beavers by the ankle and pulled him under before anyone could react. His scream was brief, cut short as the earth closed over him."Roy!" Wesley fired his weapon into the mud, but the bullets did nothing. The jungle had claimed another soul."We need to run!" Pam grabbed Klinton's arm, pulling him away from the chaos. "Now!"They fled into the darkness, the chants following them like a second heartbeat. Behind them, they could hear the others scrambling—Richard shouting, Kyser coughing, the professor's terrified prayers.Adam was the next to fall. His sickness had weakened him too much to run, and when the roots rose beneath him, he didn't even scream. He just sank, his fevered eyes staring up at the rain as if accepting his fate."Adam!" Wesley reached for him, but it was too late. The mud closed over Adam's face, and he was gone.Wesley stared at the spot where his friend had been, his face frozen in horror. Then something struck him from behind—a thick vine that wrapped around his throat and dragged him backward."Wes!" Pam turned, but Klinton pulled her forward."There's nothing we can do! We have to keep moving!"They ran through the rain, through the mud, through the chants that seemed to vibrate in their bones. The jungle had become a living nightmare, and there was no escape.Richard found himself alone.He'd been separated from the others when the ground gave way, tumbling into a shallow ravine that had appeared from nowhere. His ankle was twisted, his face cut, his dignity stripped away. He crawled through the mud, gasping for breath, desperate to find anyone—even Wesley, even the man who wanted to arrest him.Anything was better than being alone in the dark with those eyes watching him.He knew they were there. He could feel them—dozens of sets of eyes, all focused on him, all waiting. The chants had changed now, become something darker, something hungry."Please," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the rain. "I'll leave. I'll go back to the States and never come back. Just let me go."The eyes didn't answer. But someone else did."Richard."He spun around, his heart pounding. A figure emerged from the darkness—naked, painted, decorated with feathers and bone. The tribal man held a spear in one hand and something else in the other.Something that looked like a human heart."Please," Richard begged. "I have money. I can pay you. Whatever you want, I can—"The tribal man tilted his head, as if considering the offer. Then he smiled—a slow, terrible smile that revealed teeth filed to points."The earth does not accept bribes," he said in perfect English. "The earth accepts only blood."Richard tried to run, but his ankle gave way. He fell to his knees in the mud, and the painted man was on him in an instant.The last thing Richard saw was the rain—the endless, terrible rain—and the eyes of the forest closing in around him.CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: THE SURVIVORSPam and Klinton ran until they couldn't run anymore.They collapsed in a small clearing, surrounded by trees that seemed to lean toward them like curious onlookers. The rain had stopped, but the chants continued, distant now but no less menacing."Are they still following us?" Klinton gasped.Pam listened, her eyes closed. "I don't know. I can't... I can't feel them anymore.""Feel them?""Something's changed. The energy... it's different now."Klinton looked at her like she'd lost her mind. "Energy? Pam, people are dying. Roy, Adam, the Kemps, Brutus—everyone is dead. And you're talking about energy?""I know," she said quietly. "I know it sounds crazy. But ever since we got here, I've been sensing things. The jungle, the spirits, the way the trees move when no one's looking...""The trees don't move.""They do." She met his eyes. "I saw them. When the Kemps died, I saw the roots pull them under. I saw the trees drink their blood."Klinton stared at her for a long moment. Then he looked away, his face pale."I believe you," he said finally. "After everything I've seen tonight, I believe you."They sat in silence, listening to the jungle breathe around them.Then they heard the helicopter.Edward Pullins had found the camp—or what was left of it.The clearing was a disaster zone. Tents were destroyed, equipment scattered, the ground churned into mud. He'd found a body near the edge—a man he didn't recognize, half-eaten by ants, his face frozen in terror.Edward had seen a lot of things in his years as a detective. But this was different. This was slaughter.The helicopter's blades whipped the air above him as it descended. A man jumped out before the landing skids touched the ground."Pullins?"Edward squinted through the rain. "Briscoe?"The pilot nodded grimly. "We got your message. I thought you were coming with Nick?""Change of plans. Where's Richard?"Briscoe's face went dark. "I don't know. The camp was attacked by... something. I got the others out, but Richard was separated.""Others?"Briscoe pointed to the helicopter, where two figures huddled in the back. Pam and Klinton sat in the cargo hold, soaked and shivering but alive."Get them to safety," Edward said. "I'm going to find Richard.""You're crazy," Briscoe said. "The jungle is crawling with whatever killed those people. You won't last five minutes."Edward drew his weapon. "Then I'll last four."The professor was gone.He'd slipped away during the chaos, drawn by something he couldn't explain—a voice, a presence, a memory of a woman's face in the darkness. The painted woman from his dreams, the one who had led him deeper and deeper into the forest.Julian stumbled through the mud, his scholarly mind racing. He knew what was happening to him. He'd read about it, studied it, devoted his life to understanding the rituals of indigenous peoples. The chants, the dances, the sacrifice—it was all connected to a ancient belief system, a worship of the earth itself.But knowing it didn't stop it from happening.The woman appeared again, just ahead of him. She was beautiful, dark-skinned, her body painted with symbols he recognized from his research. She smiled at him and beckoned with one finger."Come," she said. "It's time."Julian followed.He followed her through the jungle, past the trees that reached for him, past the chants that grew louder with every step. He followed her to the clearing where the ritual was taking place—a massive circle of painted men and women, all dancing around a central fire.The woman led him to the center of the circle. She touched his chest, and he felt something leave him—something warm and vital, something he'd been carrying his entire life."Now," she whispered. "Now you belong to the earth."And Julian screamed.CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: THE PRICE OF GREEDKyser Finley was dying.He knew it the moment he saw the sores spreading across his arms, the fever burning in his blood. The poison had been working its way through his system since the first day, and now it was claiming its due.He lay in the mud, unable to move, unable to scream. The rain had stopped, but the chants continued, a rhythm that seemed to match his fading heartbeat.Wesley found him there."Kyser!" He dropped to his knees, his hands shaking. "Oh god, Kyser, what happened?""Doesn't matter," Kyser whispered. "We're all... we're all paying the price. Richard's greed... our greed... we came here to take something that wasn't ours.""Shut up, you're going to be fine." Wesley tried to lift him, but Kyser pushed him away."Listen to me. You need to get out of here. Get to the boat, get to the helicopter, get as far away as you can. This place... it's alive, Wesley. It knows what we did. And it won't stop until we're all dead.""Kyser—""Go!"Wesley hesitated. Then he turned and ran, leaving his friend behind.Kyser watched him go. He felt the weight of the jungle pressing down on him, felt the eyes watching from every direction. The chants grew louder, and he knew it was time.He reached for his sidearm with the last of his strength. One shot. A brief moment of pain, then silence.The jungle continued to watch.Wesley ran until his lungs burned.He'd lost track of the others, lost track of everything except the need to escape. The chants were everywhere now, filling his head, making it impossible to think.He was being hunted. He didn't know by what, but he could feel it behind him—something huge and ancient and hungry.He collapsed against a massive tree, its bark rough against his back, its roots spreading across the earth like veins beneath skin. The chants were everywhere now—filling his head, making it impossible to think clearly. But in the brief silence between heartbeats, he heard something else: Adam's voice, echoing from a memory he couldn't escape."Hey Wes, cool out man. I'm glad he needed us."Wesley pressed his palms against his eyes, trying to push the image away. Adam, standing at that grill in the Caribbean night, laughing at his paranoia. Adam, who had trusted this job, trusted the money, trusted that nothing bad would happen. Adam, who had died alone in the mud, his fevered eyes staring up at the rain."I should have listened," Wesley whispered to no one. "I should have told you to stay home."He thought about his wife then—Jennifer, back in Dallas, probably pacing the floor and cursing his name. He'd told her this trip was just a quick paycheck, easy money for a few days' work. He'd kissed her forehead and promised to call every night.He'd called twice. Then the calls had stopped."I'm sorry," he said, the words tasting like ash. "I'm so sorry."Regret washed over him like a wave—regret for trusting Richard, for following the money, for dragging Adam into a nightmare he couldn't escape. He'd been so sure of himself, so arrogant, so certain that his skills and his weapon would be enough to handle anything.But the jungle didn't care about weapons. It didn't care about skill or bravery or promises made to wives back home. It only cared about one thing: survival. And Wesley was no longer sure he deserved to survive.He thought about Kyser—the last words they'd shared, the way his friend had pushed him away, told him to run. Kyser had known he was dying. Kyser had made peace with it in a way Wesley couldn't understand."He was braver than me," Wesley admitted. "He always was."Something moved in the darkness above him. Wesley looked up, and for a brief moment, he saw it clearly—a snake, massive and ancient, descending from the canopy with the patience of death itself.He should have drawn his weapon. He should have run. But somehow, looking into those cold, unblinking eyes, Wesley felt something unexpected: acceptance.This is what I deserve, he thought. This is what we all deserve, for coming here, for taking what wasn't ours.He didn't scream. He didn't fight.He just closed his eyes and whispered Adam's name.A snake dropped from the canopy above him.It was massive—thicker than his body, longer than he could see. It wrapped around him before he could scream, crushing his ribs, squeezing the air from his lungs.He tried to fight, tried to draw his weapon, but it was too late. The snake had him, and the jungle had already made its judgment.Wesley's last thought was of Adam—his friend, his partner, the man he'd failed to save. He hoped, wherever Adam was, he wasn't alone.Then the darkness swallowed him.CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: THE LAST STANDPam, Klinton, and Edward huddled in the science vessel, the only safe place left in a world that had gone mad.The helicopter had taken them to the boat, where Jerry and Briscoe were waiting. But Jerry had disappeared during the night—wandered off into the jungle and never come back. Briscoe was silent, his face pale with fear."There's no one else," Pam said. "We're all that's left."Edward nodded grimly. "We need to get out of here. The pilot says the engine is working, but we'll need to navigate the river. Anyone know how to sail?""I do," Klinton said. "Jerry taught me.""Good. Then let's go."They cast off just as the sun began to rise. The jungle was quiet now—eerily quiet, as if the forest itself was holding its breath."Look," Pam said, pointing to the shore.Richard stumbled out of the trees, his clothes torn, his face covered in mud and blood. He was alive—barely—but something was different about him. Something had broken inside him, and it showed in his eyes."Help me," he croaked. "Please... help me."Edward stared at him for a long moment. The man he'd come to arrest, the man who had caused all this death and destruction."Throw him a rope," Edward said finally.They pulled Richard aboard, and he collapsed on the deck, weeping like a child."I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know... I didn't know it would be like this...""Shut up," Edward said. "You can be sorry in prison."Richard looked up at him, his eyes hollow. "It doesn't matter. The jungle knows. It knows what I did. And it will never let me go."CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: THE RIVER OF NO RETURNThe science vessel chugged down the river, carrying the survivors away from the nightmare they'd barely escaped.Pam sat on the deck, watching the jungle slide past. She felt it receding—the presence, the energy, the weight of the spirits that had haunted them. But she also felt something else. A connection, a bond that would never fully break."Are you okay?" Klinton sat down beside her."I don't know," she admitted. "I keep thinking about the others. The Kemps, Brutus, Roy, Adam, Kyser, Wesley... all of them.""They chose to come here," Klinton said. "Just like us. We all made our choices.""Did we?" She looked at him. "Did we really choose, or did we just follow the money?"Klinton was silent for a moment. Then he said, "I chose to survive. That's what matters now."Pam smiled—a sad, tired smile—and rested her head on his shoulder."Thank you," she whispered. "For saving me.""Anytime," he said. "Anytime."Edward Pullins sat in the cabin with Richard, watching the broken man stare at his hands."It's over," Edward said. "You're going back to the States, and you're going to face justice for what you did."Richard laughed—a hollow, terrible laugh. "Justice? There's no justice in this world. Don't you understand? The jungle isn't just a place. It's a force. A judgment. And it's already decided what's going to happen to me.""What are you talking about?"Richard looked up, his eyes wild. "The roots, Edward. The roots are already in my chest. They've been there since the first day. I just didn't feel them until now."Edward leaned forward, his hand on his weapon. "You're delirious.""Am I?" Richard tore open his shirt, revealing a pattern of dark lines under his skin—roots, spreading across his chest like a second skeleton. "They're growing inside me. They're going to devour me from the inside out."Edward stared at the pattern, his mind racing. He'd seen a lot of things in this jungle—things he couldn't explain. But this..."I'll take you to a hospital," he said finally. "A real one.""It won't matter," Richard whispered. "The jungle always gets what it wants. Always."CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: THE RETURNThe journey back to Macapa took three days.By the time they reached civilization, Richard was barely conscious. The roots had spread to his face, his neck, his arms. He looked like a man who had been claimed by something older than humanity.Edward handed him over to the Brazilian authorities—at Richard's own request, oddly enough. The broken businessman seemed to welcome the prospect of prison, as if it might protect him from whatever was coming."He won't survive," Edward said to Pam and Klinton. "He knows it. I think that's why he gave up so easily."Pam nodded. "He understands now. We all understand. The jungle isn't something you can conquer. It's something you can only respect.""And destroy," Klinton added grimly. "If you're not careful."They boarded the plane back to the States in silence. Each of them carried the weight of what they'd seen, what they'd survived.Pam looked out the window as the jungle receded into the distance. She could still hear the chants, if she listened closely—a whisper on the edge of hearing, a memory of something ancient and powerful."Will it stop?" she asked. "The jungle, the rituals, the spirits... will they ever stop?"Edward shook his head. "I don't think so. I think it's been going on long before us, and it'll keep going long after we're gone.""That's terrifying," Klinton said."That's nature," Pam replied.The plane climbed higher, leaving the rainforest behind. But for the survivors, the journey was just beginning.The chants continued in the distance—a warning, a promise, a reminder that the earth was never truly conquered.EPILOGUEOne year later, Pam Slaughter stood in her small apartment, staring at a photograph from the expedition. It was the only one she'd kept—a group shot of the crew before everything fell apart.She touched her finger to the glass, tracing the outlines of faces that would never be seen again."Rest in peace," she whispered. "All of you."A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. She opened it to find Klinton Westfield standing there, a nervous smile on his face."Hey," he said. "I was in the neighborhood.""Klinton." She smiled despite herself. "It's good to see you.""Same." He stepped inside, looking around the apartment. "You doing okay?""Getting there." She closed the door. "Every day gets a little easier."They sat in silence for a moment. Then Klinton said, "I had a dream last night. About the jungle."Pam's smile faded. "I have them too.""I was back there, standing in the middle of the clearing. And they were all there—Roy, Adam, Kyser, Wesley, the Kemps, Brutus. Everyone we lost.""What did they say?"Klinton met her eyes. "They said they were at peace. They said the jungle had taken them in, the way it was meant to. They said... they said not to feel guilty."Pam felt tears prick her eyes. "I don't know if I can do that.""Me either," Klinton admitted. "But maybe that's okay. Maybe feeling guilty is part of being human."She reached out and took his hand. "Maybe."They sat together, not speaking, and listened to the sounds of the city outside. So different from the jungle—so loud, so chaotic, so alive.But somewhere, in the distance, Pam could still hear the chants. And she knew—no matter how far she traveled, no matter how much time passed—she would always carry the jungle with her.THE END