By Jo Anzalone, Sharon Ferguson and Chris Snyder

 
                    

(Jo writing Terry, Sharon writing Diedre, Chris writing Dino)

"Come now," he said, his little 'tsk-tsk-tsk' noises mingling with his laughter, "tell me how you managed to get all this red hair of yours tangled in the thorn tree."

Terry paused his disentangling efforts a moment, looked up at the mounding cumulus clouds over a distant purple mountaintop, rubbed one hand over his chin, and announced most thoughtfully, "Hmmmm? Thorn? Sounds like a good word for a last name."

He looked down at her where she sat on a medium-sized rock near the edge of the high cliff, her extremely long hair matted into the dark, wiry clutches of the small tree behind her. "Don't you think?"

When she merely glared at him, his fingers went back to work...along with his mouth. He was feeling unusually chatty for some reason. Perhaps it was the unexpected stumbling upon this fair maiden in distress high in one of the more remote backwaters of Peru that had loosened his tongue. He'd been alone the last week, scouting the area for the cave where Señor Roberto Allemande was reputedly being held.

Dressed in full camo and rather well-weaponed, he knew he must've been quite a sight to the young woman when he'd stepped out onto the wide ledge. Truly, her predicament was not humorous, but something about the way she looked, sitting there, her glorious mane so thoroughly entangled where she could not reach to free herself...something about it had made him smile.

"'Course," he continued, "it looks much better with an 'e' tacked on. I think so, at least." He pulled a little too hard on one long lock and she hissed with pain. "Ooops! Sorry!" he apologized. "Next time I find a lone redhead stuck in a thorn tree atop a Peruvian cliff, I'll try to be more careful."

If the gods of the Incas were still around, they might have been shocked to hear a shriek of fury and pain from the side of the mountain, a sound they probably had not heard since... well, Diedre wasn’t sure when, but it was probably a long while. She'd scream again if she had to, just to spite them, and had opened her mouth to do so, pulling up all the anger that she felt from the pain of the scratches, the torn flesh from her tumble, the utter humiliation of not being able to stand because WHYYYYY DIEDRE?! Why?! Because of your cursed VANITY, you stupid debutante from Alabama...!!

Only she didn't get to wreak havoc on the Incan gods' ears once more because emerging from the shadows of the under story vegetation was a rather curious shape, a man-shaped shape, with eyes crinkled in extreme amusement and mouth like a cupid's bow and...

"What are you doing standing there?" she griped, still too angry to wonder if he might not just be a mirage or illusion or…worse. The sun was setting fast and because she couldn’t twist her head very well, that figure could easily be a panther, or bear....

The anger suddenly fell into a full-fledged funk. She quit wrestling with the bush and sat quietly, hoping...HOPING the man wouldn't just...keep....STANDING there...!

Were there no gentlemen in Peru? Ever?!? She turned her head as best she could to get a better look at him as he bent down to start extracting her hair, but he managed to stay just within the periphery of her sight. He was dressed in camo; to be sure, a comforting sight in the dimming light, but her assumption that he was some American GI Joe was completely shattered when he began chatting her up in a distinct Australian accent. Utterly flummoxed now, she lay still, trying not to be needled by his teasing words.

Thorn, huh?! I'll show him thorn...just as soon as I....

Blithely, he continued with both his hair-freeing activity and his chatter. "Was your limo late?" He was actually quite consumed with curiosity as to why she was where she was...and why she appeared to be alone.

"Ow!" A thorn sank into his right thumb. He stepped back, sucking on it, studying her. You wouldn't happen to have a chainsaw in that rucksack, now would you?" he asked, nodding toward her pack lying a few feet away. When she merely narrowed her eyes at him, he made a big show of heaving a great sigh and rose to do battle with the thorn tree again.

"Costing me my life's blood, I hope you realize," he complained.

So torn was she by a sense of grudging gratitude for his assistance and the all-too-knowing assessment of her person - limo, indeed! - a snort of laughter escaped her lips over the wayward thorn stabbing him before she remembered the decent to do was keep her mouth shut. Southern breeding notwithstanding, words of retribution formed at her full mouth, ready to spill out with scathing accents of her own. Especially at this man's interest in her satchel...and her character...and her hair....

*Must have come from the wrong side of the outback* she fumed.

"I'll be sure to mention that to the Red Cross when I see them," she answered loftily, letting her 'Bama drawl emphasize the word 'mention.' He was nearly done, pulling strand after strand - *did he have to take so long about it?* - until she was sure that she looked like one of those Troll Dolls on bad hair day. The sky was darkening and it was getting harder to determine his features, such as they were, smeared with camo-grease.

When she was able to move her head more, she noticed he was packing some serious heat. Only then did it occur to her to wonder just who it was that prickled her pride while gallantly liberating her one mark of beauty.

"By the way, do all Aussies have to come to Peru to find someone to talk to?" She said it as sweetly as she could manage, her throat raw from her earlier vocalizations. "Are Aussie women not...adequate?"

He pulled the last strand free, then turned, looking down at her face. Her accent fascinated him almost as much as her words amused him. She reminded him of a eucalypt...layers and layers of bark and filled with oil that would ignite at the slightest spark. Why was it the mental image of a lighted match instantly filled his brain?

He pressed his lips together, repressing his laughter, but his shoulders still shook slightly with it. She noticed and glared more fiercely. If only she knew how right she'd been, in part, at least. It'd been too long since he'd had a decent conversation with a woman...not that this passed as 'decent'.

And why, now that she was talking, did he suddenly feel at a loss for words? He could have kicked himself. He wanted to make some snappy reply but what he did instead was reach into a pocket, pull out a small cloth, bend down and softly wipe a smudge off her cheek. He could tell she was a bit taken aback, and she jerked her head away from his touch. Instantly, smart ass was back and he cocked his head.

"Magnolia blossoms don't belong on Peruvian mountains, you know. You need assistance back to your limo, Ma'am?"

With a final scathing glare, Diedre reached behind her head to extract the final strand, tangling somewhat with his hand, which he seemed to withdraw with some reluctance. As soon as she knew she was free, she was on her feet to face him, ignoring the multitudinous scratches screaming from her back and arms and legs, ready to take up the challenge that she was anything but out of place.

Only now she got a full measure of him and...well...wow.

He was much taller than she, every inch of him pure muscle and military strength. His blue-green eyes flicked up and down, appraising her, the ever-present amusement highlighting his handsome features. Then came a tilt of his head, a certain indefinable smirk, as he turned in unconscious preparation for her lashing. Which she obliged, finding that look irritating her as much as his comments.

"IF I had a limo, I'd be riding past, pointing and laughing at you!" She sniped, and froze in shock. A loud thunderclap punctuated her mockery with a roar, its echo reverberating down the mountain side as wind from the storm began chasing the sound through the rainforest. She looked back at him, anger now morphed into panic. It wouldn’t take long for the rains to turn their little precipice into a mudslide that would rival the roughest of roller coasters She swept up her satchel and flung it over her shoulder. She'd have to find the proper words to thank him later.

 

Instantly his amused smile was gone, replaced by slightly narrowed eyes assessing the best way off this small ledge. Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, he grabbed her hand, ordering firmly, "Stay close!" and then half-dragged her behind him around the thorn bush and up a steep, narrow almost-but-not-quite trail he'd spied. He slipped once, falling hard on his left knee, but was up and moving again in a split second. Then the skies opened and the rain came...and came...and came. A blinding torrent beating on them, taking most of the world with it. He couldn't see more than a yard in front of him now.

Turning quickly, he looked back at the woman. Her long hair was plastered down her body like wet crepe paper and mud completely smeared one side of her face. He had to get her out of this. Pulling a bit harder on her hand, he hollered over the thunder, "Hang on!" These mountains were pocked with caves and if he remembered correctly, there would be a small one about 20 feet further up. He could tell she was tiring as she began to hang behind him like an anchor. His own muscles were straining by now, but he kept up as fast a pace as he could, knowing the mountainside could slip out from under their feet at any moment. Finally a dark, irregular shape appeared through the blinding white of the rain and he literally fell into it, pulling her with him so that she fell completely on top of him.

The wall of water that descended upon them nearly took Deidre's breath away and she found herself gasping for air between strands of water as it blinded the way for their escape. She was thankful for the firm grip of the man's hand as he grabbed hers and pulled them both up the cliff, rather than down; definitely more grateful than she had been about his teasing chivalry with her hair. She actually felt sorry for him when he fell with bone crunching heaviness on one knee. Felt VERY sorry for herself as he pulled her with almost roughshod impatience up the trail.

Her hair was now plastered to her head, rain water flowing the strands into her eyes, and she had to wipe it back with a muddy hand. When did that happen? Relentless. The man had a dismaying amount of reserves and she could see that he was searching for any nook to hide in, but she felt herself begin to slip along with the runlets of water beginning to trickle down the slope of the mountain. She couldn't go on much longer. The scratches, the fall, the energy spent on intense fury, the lack of incline that gave no quarter to her feet or equilibrium, all had stolen whatever reserves she might have had to follow him. She felt herself start to go in slow-motion, one heavy mountain boot after another, weighing him back as he pulled, on and on....

Without warning, he seemed to stand almost outright from the slope, jubilant for one second, and then he yanked with one last muscle of strength to fall eagerly into a black spot in the mountainside. And without much dignity or gratitude, Deidre fell in after him, to find herself couched by those same lean military muscles with all its soggy hardware. A sharp flash of lighting showed a face with mud and grease-paint and two very surprised aqua eyes staring up at her. She had fallen full upon the long body of the man, her hand still clutched in his, his other arm around her to keep her from rolling off into parts unknown. Deidre lifted her head to find herself in as humiliating a sprawl she would ever think of, straddling him, held by him as a lover would in the throws of passion.?? They stiffened against each other for a few seconds before she flung herself sideways, not caring if her rucksack thwapped his torso as it was dragged along.

Choosing the driest spot she could find, she huddled against the cave wall, trying to keep from watching his reaction, looking around to see if there wasn’t a blacker corner where she could recover her pride in privacy. In the vague light that still remained, she saw him curl upward to drag himself to the opposite wall, settling against it with a sigh of relief, as if that little moment had never happened. He then proceeded to unload his gear and begin an inventory of his supplies. It wasn't until he broke open a chemical light and set it down on the rough cave floor that she was able to get a better idea of what sort of cave they were in. Green iridescence gave their shelter an eerie otherworld aspect. When her eyes adjusted to the light, she uncurled from her huddle against the wall and began to open her rucksack.

"Just for the record," she said, her voice sounding strange in the small space of the cave. He paused momentarily to give her full attention. "Freeing me up from the bush and...and bringing me here..." the memory of his body beneath hers was still reverberating, "thank you. I'm glad you came when you did."

He smiled at her, green shadows playing across his face, giving him a completely otherworldly look, and nodded in acknowledgement of her thanks. "My pleasure," he said, then wiping both palms across his wet face, smearing rainwater, mud, and greasepaint into some formless mishmash of color and shape that only added to his alien appearance. He seemed unaware of it, though, or, more likely, didn't care. He was not the sort to whom such things bore any import at all. Looking about their small cave, he tried to determine where the best place would be for her to sit. Toward the back was a small shelf about a yard across. "There," he said, indicating it with his hand. "It looks like the rain and mud have spared that spot. You might try resting there a bit before we push on. When the rain stops, I mean." He looked intently then out the opening. The storm was showing no signs of letting up and night would be on them too soon to make it off the mountain.

"I think," he said, softly, "that we may end up spending the night here. Too dangerous to go when the light's gone." She had gathered her things and tried to settle herself on the shelf. An outcropping of the cave wall projected over one side of it, and she had to bend her neck to sit. "Why not lie down," he suggested, looking at her quietly in the dimness of the green light. "I have some things I need to check on," she replied, trying not to get too squeamish about the vague sliminess of the rock she sat on, leaned against, avoided. "I have to see if my GPS is all right," she added, as he watched her with slight skepticism. "Its the only way I have of getting out of the Andes alive."

"Besides," she said with a snort, "I can sleep sitting up just as easily as lying down. Don't worry about me."

“GPS, eh?" he whistled. "My, my! When you leave your limo, you do it in style!" He didn't know why the woman kept bringing out the bristly side of him.

And did she think he was going to leave her to her own devices now and not get her down the mountain. Thinking of getting her down the mountain reminded him that he didn't know why she'd gotten UP the mountain.

"Listen," he said seriously, leaning toward her a bit. "This is not a safe area for a woman alone. There are...undesirable... forces on this mountain and you really should not be here. It's not safe," he repeated for emphasis.

"Why ARE you here, anyway?"

Diedre gave a long-suffering sigh as she continued to fiddle with the tiny buttons, causing the instrument to beep occasionally in protest to some particular function it was not designed to do. It was a bit hard to concentrate when the Aussie was staring at her and broadcasting his doubts as to her sanity. With the crash and boom of the weather outside their shelter, she had to admit (silently, of course) that she was beginning to doubt that herself. "I'm on vacation," she explained. "I was on a guided tour. They told me they were traveling in the more established areas of the mountains, but I got separated from my group, somehow. A mix-up of times. I was supposed to meet them at this point..." she indicated a particular reading on her screen panel, "...and when I got there, no one. Being stuck in the middle of nowhere, I decided to strike out on my own...yes, I know it was stupid, but really when you think about it, I had no choice. Why do you think I was sitting there screaming my lungs out? Aside from the fact that I felt like I had just tried to take a toboggan ride over a stack of needles? Well, anyway," she continued, with another sigh. "I lost my group. Or rather, they lost me. I tried to set out the way they had planned in case something like this happened, but it seemed to go all wrong somehow...either I've been spending my whole time reading the coordinates in upside-down orientation, or my Garmin is completely out of whack. Either way, it means I'm doomed to wander the mountainside."

"Doomed may not be the right word for it," he offered. "After all, I found you, didn't I?"

It all seemed a bit odd to him somehow, and not all that plausible, that a group of merry-hearted 'cachers' would actually be playing their game in such rugged and dangerous terrain as this.?? Be that as it may, she was obviously here and had to be gotten own the mountain.

Again he thought of the delay that would cost him and another frown creased his brow. "You're bloody-well lucky that thorn bush caught you else you might've gone straight over the cliff edge." He shifted his position, uncomfortable and damp as he was, adding under his breath, "Damn bloody fool bloody tenderfoot!"

Okay, that was it. It was one thing to have to owe some props to this stranger who seemed to be on some kind of military mission; it was another to have him call her...what the hell was he doing here himself? She stopped playing with her Garmin to stare at him, her mind going blank with anger over his persistent refusal to give her any credit.

"I'm well aware of what could have happened, but I assure you, sir," and her 'Bama accent rose from the South...again...damn, he's got a way of doing that! "I am not green when it comes to being out in the wild like this. I've endured long hot digs in Egypt, and put up with more considerate aborigines in the Amazon! As it is, I haven't seen a soul besides you since I started climbing this stupid place...and...and...why are YOU here, for that matter?"

Ignoring her question, he looked at her with a bit of interest. "Egypt? The Amazon? My, my, but your game board is large." He stood, turning his back, watching the sky as a brief break in the storm lessened the heaviness of the rain. "'Scuse me, Luv, but I've got to step outside for a tick."

Saying nothing more, he disappeared. He'd barely made it out of earshot when Rachel's call came through. After their brief exchange, he replaced his communications device in its pocket, snapped the flap over it, and re-entered the cave, still shaking his head a bit at his young female assistant's predicament on her assignment. There was nothing he could do now to help her. He had his own female right here to deal with.

"Best get as comfy as you can," he suggested, "we're here for the night. Got a featherbed in your rucksack, do you?"

There, he'd done it again. Couldn't seem to stop. The accent, the set of her jaw, the look in her eyes...all of it made it too easy. Now she knew the Incan gods had heard her...and were having a good laugh at her expense. They sent a response all right, and it couldn't have been more infuriating. It was bad enough that she would have to live with the embarrassment of losing her footing and sliding down a slope she had known better than to tackle; it was another thing to be caught at it by a stranger who sized her up in an instant and needled her every step of the way.

What was more the stranger was handsome...very handsome... a man she could have - *would* have - dazzled any other place but here, or at least swan-dived trying. With a flick of her eyelashes, tilt of her smile, she would have turned on her best honeyed charm...but no,? the Incan gods would have to send someone just as impenetrable and as annoying as a...well, a thorn bush. What was more, this man was overtly military, in a way that reminded her of her brothers, Harkin and Wilder, whom she adored and admired…and missed sorely when they were away. Like her military kin, this man, this Aussie seemed to encompass the very concept of honor...

But damn it if that association also didn’t resurrect the stubbornness her brothers always brought out in her, egging on a tomboy nature that often warred with the breeding her aunt had tried to incur, a fighting impulse that even the most genteel sister felt when she channeled it. What an Aussie was doing here in Peru was beyond her comprehension.

She caught some of the conversation when he stepped outside the cave, the tinny sound of someone over a communications device, a woman who sounded more than a little upset herself. And this man, this Aussie soldier, had the audacity to include *her* in this little telecommunications liaison by peering in and announcing "mountainside...Peru...Southern Belle...are all Yank sheilas this stubborn?" - to which she chose to grab a nearby rock and fling it at him. It caught him in the calf as he retreated.

Game board. Hah.

Limo. Double Hah.

He sat now, trying to act casual in his spot at the opposite wall, unable to keep from turning his gaze to her. His curiosity was eating him alive. Hmmmm. Maybe she'd get to practice a lethal maneuver or two of her own.... And she was SO out of here the moment that last raindrop fell, nightfall or not.

"What's your name again?" she asked sweetly. She tucked her Garmin back into her back, checking with her fingertips the one item she had buried at the bottom of the bag, the one item for which reason she was on this God-forsaken mountainside to begin with.

Rubbing his calf where she'd hit him with the rock, he smiled ruefully at her in the wavering green light.

"Thorne," he said, "with an 'e' for pizazz." He rubbed some more, making quite the show of it. "Terry Thorne, but you can call me Mr. Thorne." His smile widened into a grin. "Being that you're a magnolia blossom and all and not used to informalities, I'm sure."

"All right, Mr. Thorne," Diedre played along, not smiling. "What's your story? I've told you my alibi, when you haven't taken shots at it. Your turn now. Take a wrong turn in the outback somewhere?"

He was getting a bit tired of the back and forths. The call from Rachel had brought the realities of his life back front and center. He smiled at her humorlessly. "Yeah," he said, his teeth almost clenched, "I took a left at Uluru instead of a right and ended up with a bi... woman caught in a thorn bush smack in my path." The green light was dimming now as its power source faded. His face was only barely highlighted.

"You know the story of King David's son, Absalom? You know what happened to him? Well, consider yourself damn lucky." He blew out a long, impatient breath, tipping his head up and away from her, then back in her direction. "My story is none of your business. You were trapped. I freed you. Tomorrow we go down this bloody mountain and I say, 'G'day and good riddance' and get about things that really matter."

He frowned at her. "Now get some sleep. You'll need your strength." He turned, settling himself into a patch of drier dirt. "If you have any," he mumbled, then tucked his cheek into the curve of his arm and closed his eyes. Deidre waited until the last speck of glow faded from the chem-lamp faded before allowing a single tear to travel down her face. She was so angry. The tear was the one release she had for the anger she'd had to stuff since entering this cave. Only so much room for an argument.

*God! What did I do to deserve that slap down?! Didn't I thank him?!*

She bit on her lip until the urge to let more tears flow subsided.

But he *would* have to keep throwing slurs her way just because...every time she tried to change her tone, this Aussie, this Terry Thorne, would dig in just a little more. Now that the thorn was pulled out, the pain smarted even more. In the dark, she prepared herself. His long lean figure lay across the entrance, but there was enough room for her to step over him without a sound. Once in a position to rise in one move, she sat still, waiting, listening for the sound of his breathing to tell her that he was asleep. It came soon enough, almost timed with the near halt of rain at some point in the early morning: a soft deep rumble bordering on a snore. Feeling her boot laces to make sure they hadn't come undone, Diedre tip-toed across the sleeping Terry; just managed to keep from sliding down the slope again because of a mud slick. When she gained her bearings she let her eyes re-adjust to the dark to get her bearings. She had tried a different route yesterday, one that looked as if it had been a bit more promising than the well-marked path she had used. Her Garmin had read a set of coordinates just a half-click below where the geocache prize box was supposed to have been hidden.

The directions had said look for a marker of piled stones, the top of which would have a particular set of glyphs. Well, she had found the coordinates and could see the piled stones, but she was hard pressed to gain it because it was just beyond the point when the slope of the mountain took a steep vertical slant. She had made it halfway up, scrabbling for foot and hand hold when root and earth gave way and she went sliding, sliding down...and that was when the thorn bush caught her.

As Terry had said, she was damn lucky.

Diedre smirked to herself as she made her way in retracing the path to the prize box. Terry had no idea just how lucky she had been so far. In fact, she had been counting on that luck to hold out at least until she found the box. Then it wouldn’t be a matter of luck anymore…just persistence. That box would have instructions telling her where to go next.

She was desperate for those instructions. Her mentor's life depended on it, and she was damned if she was going to disappoint Dr. Allemande again. The moonlight broke through the clouds to show her the path she should have taken, a trail that sparkled somewhat in the blue light from the granite sand mixed in with the dirt. It rose upwards into a graduated terracing. She paused momentarily to suck in air that was suddenly gone from her lungs. She had been so hasty! Her impatience had led her astray and she had nearly died because of it. Damn, but Terry was right!

Hints and rumors of dawn were pinking the skies when she attained the top of the terracing. She pulled out the Garmin to check her coordinates; there, up ahead. Still more climbing! The bastards made it purposefully difficult to get to...and that with the threat of harm if she had brought anyone along. Deidre paused for a moment before pulling on the last bits of reserve to climb her way up.

Lord, was she tired! Some small, fractious angel of conscience was berating her for not asking the Aussie soldier for help, but as she had done all her life, she shoved the angel aside in favor for the more appealing Spirit of Pride. Damned if she was going to ask that bastard for anything, especially when he had been so determined to take her down a notch.

 

Yep, there it was. In a perfect little obtrusive ledge, as if it were just part of the terrain, and yet just out of reach: the geocache. This time she was going to be careful.?? An hour later, more or less, she was near its edge, after careful observation of handholds, careful checking of security. She persuaded herself that if she did happen to slide back as she had done before, there was no chance of her ending up on a precipice at the mercy of a wayward Aussie.

*NO. Not gonna think of him now...got...to...get...to...the....*

Her arm gained ground, then her upper body. With one last shove of willpower, Diedre found herself sprawled across the half-moon ledge. The pile of stones glittered from a crusting of dew. The top most stone revealed the glyphs she was looking for...in Hieratic Egyptian. And below that, tucked where even the most acute eagle eye would not detect it, an oblong gunmetal gray box. The one where she was supposed to leave the artifact and get the money and instructions to finding Dr. Allemande. Diedre flung herself at it and pried it open. It was several moments before she caught herself gasping for air, so stunned, so shockingly stunned was she.

Just a piece of paper with the words ¡Apesadumbrado, intento otra vez!

Sorry. Try again.

Like the underside of some bottle cap!

NOW Diedre really wanted to cry. And she did, with vehemence. But she didn't get very far in her vent when the sharp clap and ping of gunfire sounded near her. Without thinking she flung herself aside...and found herself sliding...sliding...one more time....

Damn! He'd slept like a bloody log! Dealing with that difficult woman must have taken more out of him than he'd thought. Terry grinned, remembering. Feisty thing for a debutante. Guess he'd been a bit rough on her last night, but she was a bit wearing with that big chip she seemed to have attached to one shoulder. Probably a sliver from some cypress knee in a mosquito-infested swamp. He chuckled to himself, feeling in a better mood after his rest.

That call from Rachel had set him off, but she was a smart gal, should be able to manage on her own. Besides, Sid would be watching out for her if she got into any real trouble. He sat up, stretching his cramped muscles, looking out the cave entrance. Good. Rain had stopped. For now anyway. Rained way too much in these mountains. Made the rough going even rougher. Well, he'd just get her back to civilization then continue on his way. God, he hoped he wouldn't be too late! He would have pushed on through the night despite the downpour had he been alone. Probably should have done it anyway. If his package had been terminated, it would be his fault.

"You want some...," he said rummaging in his pack and turning to look at her.

The little ledge was empty.

Quickly he scanned the small cave. Her things were gone. Shit! The little twerp was trying to go down the mountain alone. Somehow he was not terribly surprised. But, damn, she was like as not to break her silly neck!!

Sighing, he zipped his pack, slung his rifle over his shoulder and stepped out on the scrubby path. Good Lord! She'd taken the upward path! Why in bloody hell would she do that?

He followed her trail, practically sprinting, at least where he could. When he determined that she'd gone up the terraced part of the mountain, he stopped, closed his eyes, and blew out a long breath of utter frustration. She was heading right into...well, she couldn't know that.

 

He scrambled up the terraces, going so fast he scraped his hands. He didn't notice. Blasted damn bloody female was going to get herself killed! Once past the terraces, he climbed again. How had she even been able to get this far? She had, though. Her trail was as clear to his trained eyes as though marked in purple neon. And she was getting close...dangerously close...to where he'd been heading in the first place.

The sudden ping of a rifle brought him to an abrupt halt. He lifted his head, listening. It had come from just over to his left. Crouching now, he ran, darting from boulder to boulder, coming out beneath a high ledge just as she slipped. He leaped, trying to catch her, missing her by mere inches as she landed just below him flat on her back. He was beside her almost instantly, kneeling in the mud.

“Nolia!" he cried, using the shortened version of 'Magnolia Blossom' he'd privately dubbed her. She lay quiet and still, a large scrape on her left cheek. He found her pulse. Good, she was alive.

"Come on, 'Nolia, wake up!" he urged, patting her cheeks. He lifted his head again. Boots were breaking through the underbrush up above the ledge.

"Come on, Luv, you can do it! Wake up!" God, they were close! She moaned, turning her head slightly, her lids beginning to flutter. "Good girl!" he encouraged. "Come on...all the way, now!"

In the few moments of her beginning decent, Deidre could readily say that her luck did finally run out. Of course, she hadn't anticipated that such a suspicion would be confirmed by an encounter with a particularly nasty rock protruding from the slope, one that kissed her cheek milliseconds before a following loose rock, timed just right by the vengeful Incan gods to bounce off the top of her head. When she at last landed on her back, the impact knocked whatever breath she had left in her and sent her into a muddy pit of blackness. And somewhere in the hovering thoughts that remained, she heard her brother's voice call out "Deed, what *are* you thinkin' of?" in that inimitable way of his, both sarcastic and affectionate...but that voice took a different twang...different tone....

She fought through the murk to open her eyes. Bending over her was...*him! OH DAMN*...the Aussie...urging her... urging...what?

"Nolia," he repeated, his grease smeared face distorted somehow...fuzzy caterpillars of blurriness made him look comical. "Come all the way, now!"

"I can't..." she rasped in return. "It hurts..." There was no time. None.

"Move your toes," he ordered, needing to see if her back were all right. When she wiggled both feet, he scooped her up, slung her over his shoulder like a sack of soggy grain, and darted into the thick undergrowth about 10 feet away. A large wet leaf smacked her face and when she mumbled something like, "ooof", he said, "Sorry, Luv," and kept going. The vegetation here was thick, really dense, and he both plowed and slipped his way through it, as rapidly and quietly as possible.

 

When he was satisfied, he crouched, settling her on the ground in front of his knees, covering her mouth with one palm, unholstering his pistol with the other. He tensed, still as a statue, listening to the mingled sounds of boots, of voices, as the searchers passed within 4 yards of them. Only when he felt it was safe did he remove his hand, using his fingers to explore gently where she was hurt.

Damn, she'd taken a couple of good cracks to her head. Despite being genuinely worried about her, the thought did flicker briefly in his mind that he hoped it had knocked some sense into her. Damn sheila, charging up a mountain like some crazed goat! Why in hell had she done it? Getting out his canteen and wetting his handkerchief, he mopped at her face.

"Nolia?" he called softly, pressing the cool cloth to her temple. "'Nolia, can you hear me? What hurts? Where?"

She only registered that he had slung her over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes...*ouch!*... when he plopped her on the ground again, covered in mud, covering her mouth with a muddy hand and giving her a look that brooked no argument. Seconds later she heard the sounds of people passing, a vague word or two in Spanish, Terry's tense body hovering over hers protectively. It was an image she would never forget, a mud-slicked knight in rain-soaked green, the only defense against a horde of men that would ask no questions at all...morning sunlight turning his hair into a burnished halo, glinting off metal buckles, armored shields...

When the horde had passed he relaxed and turned to her. Deidre could only imagine what was passing through his mind next....no, scratch that...her head was too much like a sirens right now to imagine anything but plunging it into something ice-cold.

"It hurts everywhere," she whimpered...*is that YOU, Diedre? That little girl cowering?!*

 

"My back, my legs, my head..." The throbbing pain in her head somehow became liquid on her cheeks. "I had to do it though...you don't understand..." She pushed weakly at his exploring hands, trying to regain some of her fight. It was no use, though. The green knight was very, very firm.

He was determined, thorough, and he checked her ribs, her arms, her legs for possible broken bones, finding none. Sitting back on his heels, he studied her. "Probably a bit of a concussion," he pronounced. He frowned, thinking she may well not be in any shape for walking, much less the steep climbing necessary to make it down the mountain. What in hell to DO with her? Leaning forward again, looming a bit over her, he asked, "Why, 'Nolia? Why did you have to do it? What is it I don't understand?"

Deidre found herself gasping slightly, out breath, out of stamina, out of sheer despair. She could see it in this soldier's eyes: he was perplexed, he was vexed. He could no longer trade thorny barbs out of the good nature of chivalry. He needed to trust her.

"I had to try and save Dr. Allemande. Honest! But...but...the box was empty...and they still have him...and I don’t know what to do anymore," the little girl continued, not wanting to relinquish to the fierce adult. "You don't understand...they're going to kill him...and I owe him so much!"

He lost his balance, almost falling atop her. “What?" he hissed, his breath sharp, painful. "What did you say? Dr. Allemande? Dr. Roberto Allemande?" My God! His package! She...knew...his package? She was trying to save Allemande?

His mind raced, circled back, raced some more, trying to make some sense, any sense at all from her words. He clapped his hand over his mouth, rubbing at his jaw with his thumb pad. So the whole cache game had been fake. Why was he not surprised? No wonder she'd gone up and not down the mountain. She knew where she was going.

Suddenly he narrowed his eyes, fixing her with with his gaze. "The box, Diedre. What box was empty? Where?"

Diedre had to take several sharp breaths in order to regain some sense of reason after Terry's outburst. How the hell could he...? He was after her old professor too?? Her mind spun in its reconfiguration of reality.

"The box...the geocache box...the one the kidnappers said they would leave instructions as to how to find him...up on that ledge I fell from...that's where I was going when you...I mean when I fell the first time...you just happened to come upon me when I...oh good Lord, how the hell do you know Dr. Allemande? Why are you after him too?" One final breath as a thought struck her. "You're not with the kidnappers, are you?!"

 

If he hadn't been so shocked by her revelation, he would have laughed at that last remark. As it was, he sighed heavily and remarked, "Oh, God, Nolia, I'm with the good guys. Is why I'm here. Trying to get him...out. How do YOU know him and why in heaven's name are you 'after him'?" He rested his hand on her shoulder. "Did you find instructions? Were they in the box? I need to know. I need to know...now. No time for any more games. You understand? Tell me what you know, what you found."

She must have been knocked harder on her head than she thought. Did he just call her 'Nolia'?

Didn't matter right now. Her head felt like a blazing red hot poker, what a dodge ball must feel when its hurled against someone's skin, a heavy concrete missile exploding.

"No, I didn't find instructions...why do you think I'm so upset?" she snapped, wishing she could put the words together a little more easily. "Look, I'm sorry for accusing you of being with the kidnappers. Its...just that...I've been through so much in the last few weeks, I don’t know who to trust. And if you bite my head off one more time, be ready for a mouthful...cause my head...just might come off..." she complained, holding her temples between her palms. She looked up at him as imploringly as she could muster. *No more games, I promise...*

He just looked at her, apparently weighing her words.

"No instructions," Diedre insisted. "All that was there was a note in Spanish saying 'sorry, try again'...like I was opening some damn soda bottle," she managed to sputter. "Dr. Allemande was my mentor...don't you understand? He was more than just my anthropology professor...he sponsored my first job out of school...he's a good friend...a good man...I owe him..." Each word she managed to say was like a large spike driving itself deeper into her brain matter until the last few brought her to tears. Ah, hell, who cares if he saw her cry. She hurt damn it and he was interrogating her like some prisoner. Whimpering, she leaned on the arm that held her shoulder back as they talked. She wanted rest. Tomorrow, she'd be able to think better...

"No!" he said slapping at her cheeks. "Don't sleep now, 'Nolia, you've got a concussion. I need you to stay awake." She kept closing her eyes, though, no matter what he did. Damn! She was hurt worse than he'd thought. He straightened up, looking around. No going back the way they'd come. The men he'd heard had headed that direction. The mountain dropped away sheer to their left. He'd have to continue up. No choice but that.

"Nolia," he urged, the name sounding like 'No-yah' when he said it, "come on, Luv, no time for napping." But she just mumbled at him and kept her eyes closed. No help for it, he decided, hefting her up again, this time into the dead-man's carry.

"Oooof!" he groaned, attempting also to man his pack and his rifle, trying to avoid clonking her head with his rifle butt as he began to walk. Well, walking wasn't exactly the right word for it. He couldn't believe he'd gone and got himself in such a situation.

 

Diedre hung limply over him.

 

It looked like rain again, and the way up was a tumble of fallen boulders, twisted vines and mud. No wonder they had chosen this place to keep Allemande. Pressing his lips together, he slogged on, half falling with every other step. What he would do when he got closer to their camp, he had no idea. Where was Dino when ya needed the bloke?

Dirt...petals of dirt, drifts of dirt, dirt that somehow lifted up from the test pit she was standing in and passed over her. Instead of falling into the bucket from her flat mason's trowel, the dirt floated...no, smirched... across her face, her body, back into the pit again.

The pit! It was deep and cool, like a comforting little underground tube with perfectly trim sides and undulating bands of soil and the staggered levels yet uncut were at her feet, promising...promising something...she couldn’t think right now. There were still dirt petals, washes, brushing over her face. She batted at them slightly, trying to remember...

She had not realized she had gone that deep, so happily had she climbed in and begun sifting away, thin scrape by thin scrape...were there any artifacts? She couldn't remember, so happy was she, cutting and shaping the levels she dug, square after square, deeper and deeper until the entire pit surrounded her and blocked the sun. She felt something jar her and she looked up to see who had dumped dirt...it's supposed to go UP, not come DOWN, she wanted to yell at the neophyte above.

*You have all the technique of an overweight pot-hunter!*

Standing over her, though, blocking out the rest of the sun was...was...*that Aussie*...only he was calling to her gently, urgently...like a...lover?!...he sounded so warm, so easy to talk with...

She held up her hand so he could grab it and pull her up. Test pits weren’t always fun, she tried to tell him. She came to, his face inches close to hers, and for a minute she wanted to...wake up Diedre, said the voice.

"I'm awake," she rasped, beginning to flail. "Walk where?"

"Phwoooh!" He let out a big breath of relief. He'd been concerned that if he left her tucked here and she woke while he was gone, she'd come up the mountain after him, probably just in time to get herself shot.

 

"I...," he began, but stopped, hearing someone approach. The very fact of the covertness of the movement made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He put a finger to his lips, nodding his head sharply to Diedre, then in one smooth motion was on his feet, gun in hand, trigger half pulled.


Dino checked his watch for the umpteenth time while cursing Terry under his breath. The threatening rain now beat down on his head adding to his misery.


Moving swiftly he followed the path that Terry had taken earlier. He paused by a thorn tree to get his bearings and caught a brief glimpse of a piece of cloth. He wiped the rain from his face and leaned closer to make certain his eyes weren't playing tricks with him. It was a piece of cloth from a good quality hiking jacket and along with it was several strands of auburn hair.


"Curiouser and curiouser," Dino murmured to himself. He removed the cloth and the strands of hair and slipped them into a pocket for later perusal. This part of Peru wasn't exactly the healthiest place on the planet.


Dino made it to the cave just as the rain started to clear. He crouched at the entrance and took in the subtle signs that someone had recently taken shelter in there. He saw the used chemical light and knew he was on the right trail. He picked up the light and pocketed it as well. Didn't want to give the enemy a chance to find his friend before he did.


Cursing and crashing feet had Dino diving for cover in the cave with the ease of long experience. With his sharpened senses he took in the banditos as they made their way past the cave.

Dino was out of the cave and up the path heading for the steeper slope just as the last bandito crashed past the cave. He picked up Terry's trail on the other side of the thorn tree.

"Jesus, Terry," he muttered under his breath as he came to where Terry went off the trail to take cover from the banditos. It was obvious as the day was long to Dino, but then he was specifically looking for it. "Leave a calling card next time, pal?” Dino was glad he thought to travel light as he continued to follow the trail because there were places where it disappeared entirely. About an hour of solid climbing put Dino five hundred yards behind Terry as Terry set down his heavy burden.

He crept closer to get an unobstructed look at what his friend had been carrying. A string of Italian curses ripped through the air when he saw that Terry had been carrying a woman.

He hurried forward careful not to spook Terry and thus get shot. "Need a bit of rescuing, pal?" he purred in query.

"Shit! Dino!" Terry exploded softly, holstering his gun and wiping his hand across his forehead. Then a sloppy grin making its way onto his face, asked, "You just happenin' by so I can aerate your liver for ya, mate?'

Dino snickered. ??"No, I just happened by to see if you wanted to go down to the Duck for a pint," he drawled. "What the f*ck do you think, Thorne?"

Terry sighed. He heard the hint of suppressed anger in Dino's voice. He frowned and stepped aside so Dino could see the real reason he was behind schedule.

"Leave it to you!" Dino exclaimed in exasperation as he took in Diedre. "Send you on a simple recon and you manage to stumble across the only attractive female in a hundred miles!"

 

Terry gave him a sheepish shrug. He knew when Dino was on a roll to just let him vent. It was safer for all concerned.

"Shit!" Dino growled. "And Wyatt always maintained that I was the one who wouldn't want for female companionship!"

Diedre studied Dino. He was dressed like 'the Aussie' but his accent gave him away as a fellow American, albeit a 'damn Yankee.' "Is he always this mouthy?" she asked Terry.

"Yeah," Terry admitted, amused by the look of annoyed disgust he saw flash across Dino's face.

"And what the hell does that got to do with the f*cking price of f*cking tea in f*cking China?"

"Watch your mouth! Your Mama raise you in a pig pen?" Diedre drawled, glaring up at the newcomer while rubbing her head. She was no linguistic prude, but her head was still burning with pain and somehow the language cut right through like a white hot poker. "My Marine brothers cuss prettier than you!" She grumbled, trying to ignore how Terry's grin turned into a ghost of a chuckle. She turned to him, wobbling as she rose up on her knees.

"Can I stand up now? Or will we be shot at some more?"

Terry sighed. Dino was certainly in a mood and Terry had a pretty good idea why. It had nothing to do with 'Nolia; not that she was helping matters any, but the fact that he hadn't really outlined the particulars about Allemande and the reason he had been kidnapped.

"Put a cork in it, mate," Terry muttered. "Let's get up to that hut and we can discuss things."

"Best thing I've heard all day," Dino agreed. He was tired of being kept in the dark.

Terry's chuckle stopped when he saw her wobbling attempt to stand. Quickly taking her elbow, he steadied the woman, leaning down a bit to study her face, assessing her condition.

"Shot at some more?" he repeated, looking over her head, his gaze locking seriously on Dino's. Licking his lips, he turned then, judging the distance to the hut. He moved back, facing Diedre full on, placing both his hands on her shoulders.

"Listen, Diedre, the answer to that is a definite 'yes'. We WILL be shot at some more and it's no place for you to be. Especially not in your condition. I can pull some of this brush up to the overhang if you'll stay here while Dino and I push on. Will you stay?"

"No! No! I have to go now...I want to get back to town, find out how I can get in touch with Rosalia...Allende's wife...she's the one that told the kidnappers I would come...with the..." Deidre yielded to the pressure of Terry's hands, falling under a sudden wave of depression. "Oh what's the use? Yale's never gonna give up those artifacts, not to save his life, not anyone's."

She glanced upwards to see if there were rain clouds threatening. It would explain why her cheeks were suddenly wet. Nope. Clear blue sky. Deidre wiped away her tears with a short pass of her hand, angry the two men were seeing this.

"Its not as if nothings been done already. They've already given them thousands of dollars. Rosalia thinks its worse than Peruvian officials being picky. She thinks there's some damn Yankee blowhard in New York who wants certain items. I tried telling her that her husband's collection wouldn’t match what they were asking for, but she wanted me to try. That was me on the mountainside...trying. Now I gotta get home and tell them I failed."

When Diedre mentioned Yale, Terry sank his teeth in his lower lip. Good God. He had never expected she would have some actual connection with...that. He'd been hired by Yale...privately... quietly...to find Allende. The University had refused to pay ransom for the professor. They also refused to turn over the artifacts. Relations between Yale and the Peruvian government had gone drastically down hill over the years and now were almost non-existent. Yale didn't even believe it WAS the government who was behind the whole thing, suspecting rather the infamous Leo Cornwaller of Manhattan. And, so, they had hired Terry to go in and get Allende out...no publicity...and no casualties.?? And here was this young woman...trying to do the same thing? By herself?

"Did you really think the kidnappers would let him go when you delivered money to them, Nolia?" He was somewhat at a loss what to do with her now...how to keep her from becoming a casualty. How the heck had she even gotten that far up the mountain with no guide? Without waiting for her answer, he gripped her shoulders again.

"Listen!" he said as firmly as he could without upsetting her further. "There are men in that hut with guns. Men who won't hesitate to shoot a woman. If you truly want to help Dino and me get Allende then you'll stay here...and stay quiet." He moved one hand, cupping it a bit under her chin. "OK?"

Dino quietly watched the exchange between Terry and 'Nolia. He was impressed that she had made it as far she had with no guide and no experience.

"I hate to cut this short," he interjected with a quiet voice. "But, most of the banditos are further down the trail, so this would be the perfect time to affect a little grab and go of our own."

"You certain?" Terry asked, desperately praying Dino was right. His bluish-green eyes bore into Dino's cobalt ones.

 

"Yes. Had to hide out in the cave you used last night," Dino replied. He was unfazed by Terry's stare.

"Not exactly a five star hotel," Terry retorted with a chuckle. "But it did in a pinch."

"Yeah." Dino chuckled. "But you are going to have to treat our new 'ally' better than that once we get back to civilization."

"Fair dinkum," Terry agreed, before turning his attention to Deidre once again. He had to bite his lip keep from laughing at Diedre's expression. He had been friends with Dino for years and had gotten use to Dino's quicksilver changes.

Diedre regarded Dino with a hint of confusion evident on her face. He had literally transformed himself before her eyes. He had gone from a mouthy, opinionated jerk to a hard, cold professional. She found it scary. Dino gave her a warm smile.

"I'm going to scout ahead," he told Terry.

"Right," Terry said. Part of his mind was still on the mission, but the other part was preoccupied with Diedre. He knew Dino picked up on that and would give him hell about it later.


Part 2


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