David Golemon - Primeval

"In 1989, Punchy and I were dispatched on a recon mission just north of Vancouver to recover something of importance, that's how we met. There's nothing more than that."

"You're proud of what she's achieved, huh, Colonel?" Will asked, taking the colonel by surprise.

Mendenhall knew he was treading dangerous ground with the man he had known for three years now. Jack Collins was probably the most secretive person he had ever known — his private life was off limits.

Jack smiled as he thought about Will's question. "Yes, I am proud of Lynn. Oh, we've had our differences: She's a crusader, one that will bash her head against the wall to do the right thing."

"Sounds like someone we know, doesn't it, Lieutenant?" Carl Everett said from his place behind the wheel of the boat as he placed the throttle of the motor to almost full speed as they came to a straight stretch of river.

Mendenhall didn't say yes or no; he did however smile when he saw the look on Jack's face — a look that said he didn't know what Everett was talking about.

"Slow the boat, we have something in the water up here," Punchy called out as he and Henri traded places in the bow.

Carl eased the throttles back as Punchy Alexander looked at the Frenchman and told him to hold his belt as he leaned far over the side of the rubber craft. He yanked and pulled at something in the water until he finally lifted a body halfway out.

"Goodness," Professor Ellenshaw said, laying his notebook down and frowning.

The man was pale white, but they could see from the facial features that he hadn't been in the water that long. The head was twisted almost backward and looked as if his jaw and both cheek bones were smashed.

"Damn, his body is all busted up," Punchy called back.

"Check his arm," Jack ordered from behind Farbeaux and Alexander.

Henri reached out and ripped the sleeve away from the shoulder. There was no tattoo.

"Okay, so we now know all of the mercs aren't Spetsnaz," Collins said. "Let him go, Henri, we don't have time for any burials."

Alexander and Farbeaux let the body go and allowed the river to take him. Ellenshaw leaned over and watched the body slide by.

"I think I would have liked to determine the cause of death, Colonel," Charlie said as he watched until the river swallowed the young Russian soldier, not knowing if he really wanted to examine it or not, but feeling he should at least say he wanted to.

"I believe you could say his neck was broken, his back snapped in more than one place, and his face crushed, Doctor," Farbeaux said as he reached over and washed his hands in the Stikine.

"Poor man," Charlie said as he leaned back into the boat.

"Just remember, Doc, it was a bunch of those good men that tried to ambush us," Punchy said as he resumed his place in the bow of the boat. "The mercenary bastard looks like he may have gotten a taste of his own medicine."

Jack watched the exchange between Ellenshaw and Alexander with mild curiosity. Punchy slammed his hands into the bow wake of the Zodiac and washed his hands. Collins saw that his features were stretched with disgust, or was it something else about the body that disturbed him more than just the death stiffness of the soldier?

"He probably drowned and the rocky bottom of the river did the damage to his body, huh, Colonel?" Mendenhall asked.

Jack looked at Will but said nothing. He eased himself beside Everett.

"I think we can probably only risk about another two miles, then I think our little navy has to get out of this thing and start hoofing it — or as we say, do the Jack Collins two-step."

"Is that what they say?" Jack asked. "Yeah, I suspect we may be running into trouble soon enough if we stay on the water, these bends and curves are a perfect place to set up a river ambush."

"Oh good, are we going to walk now?" Charlie asked, actually looking excited to be off the water and into the woods.

"So now we can walk into a land ambush. Is that right, Colonel?" Henri said with his always present smile etched onto his face.

"You can always get out and swim back, Henri," Collins said, this time with his own smile.

"No, I'll try for the Twin diamonds, but looking at that Russian soldier, I would say that our chances on land may not be as good as we initially hoped they would be."

This time the smile on Jack's face widened as he was actually amused by the Frenchman.

"No one ever said you were dumb, Henri."

Jason pushed through the prickly bushes that covered the forest floor, having endured over a hundred scratches on his face for his efforts. He hadn't seen Sarah in the past hour, but heard her cuss loudly about fifteen minutes earlier, so he knew she was faring no better than himself in the tangled undergrowth searching for the fuel injector. Of Marla Petrov, he hadn't seen or heard a thing since their makeshift search party began.

Jason broke through a particular harsh section of undergrowth with pieces of bushes and thorns sticking to his face and Levis shirt, and into a small clearing of which a rippling creek ran through. He took a deep breath as a small fresh breeze sprang up. He instantly felt the clear air that greeted him after the harsh, closed in and fetid air of the thick tangle foot of the forest. He placed his hands on his knees and saw a million of the small thorns had also penetrated his jeans. He shook his head as he went to the clear creek. He washed his face, feeling the pleasant sting of the water hitting his sweat-filled scratches.

Feeling half human again, he looked into the water after drinking a few cupped handfuls. He instantly saw it and stood so fast that he dropped the M-16 he had rested on his bent knees. When he examined the fuel injector closely, he saw it had been wadded up like a piece of discarded paper. He looked around as the woods surrounding the creek became still. He slowly bent over, still watching the trees and retrieved the four-pound injector and the M-16 from the water.

"Damn it," he said under his breath. "Why in the hell would someone do that?"

When a crashing noise sounded behind him, Jason thought a bear was coming to claim his small person. He dropped the smashed fuel injector into the water and turned with the M-16 just as he saw Sarah trip and stumble into the clearing.

"You okay?" Jason asked as he reached to steady her.

"Water — oh that looks good," she said as she walked the few feet to the creek and then sank to her knees. She pushed her head into the cool stream and washed her face, and then she cupped her hands and drank. She took a breath and then turned to face Ryan. "We're not very good at this wilderness thing, are we?"

Ryan walked to within a few feet of Sarah and then reached into the water and pulled up the battered injector.

"So much for shiny things, huh?" he said as he let the fuel injector slide from his hand and into Sarah's.

"What the hell, did they take a rock to it?" she angrily asked as she stood up.

"They probably didn't even know they damaged it."

They both turned and saw Marla standing just out of the woods. She looked fresh as a daisy and didn't have a scratch on her.

"Okay, who in the hell are they? " Ryan asked, his temper starting to rise. "And don't give me any of this mystical bullshit."

The girl looked from Ryan to Sarah; instead of answering, she walked to the creek and took a drink of water from her cupped hand.

"It doesn't matter about the damaged part, Mr. Ryan," she said as she finally looked up. "You don't need it."

"What do you mean?"

"Jason, let her finish," Sarah said, eyeing the young woman closely.

The girl straightened and then pointed. "About a hundred yards in that direction." She stepped into the water and then across the creek and vanished into the woods.