There was no time to panic, or re-evaluate. Reality painted a grim picture. Calin had walked into a trap. In retreating and circling back he had taken the path his adversaries had anticipated. Predictability had claimed another casualty, or two, if he included Jess.

Anger erupted within Calin; Jess was no part of this. He was the one being pursued.

"Follow me." He tried the back door, it was locked. He was back in the farmhouse, trapped, again. Twenty seconds later the lock yielded to force. As the door opened a sound far more terrifying than police sirens reverberated in the distance. Helicopters were approaching.

"We're going to have to make a run for it. Are you up for it?" She was out of the blocks like an Olympic sprinter.

Jess out sped him reaching the rear fence some seven or eight yards in front of him. They found the cover of the tree line seconds prior to the actual sighting of the aircraft. They zeroed in above the house. Six soldiers descended by rope from each chopper as they hovered about forty feet above ground level. The first six, fully armed with assault weapons charged into the house while the other group smashed their way into the garage. After dropping their troops, the two aircraft climbed to an altitude of several hundred feet and swept the area surrounding the house.

Fortune favoured Calin and Jess as the helicopters veered away from the bushland and concentrated instead on roads leading away from the house, searching no doubt for two escapees fleeing on a bike.

"What now," Jess asked as they dashed further into the bush.

"We get the hell out of here."

"Follow me," said Jess on heading deeper into the densely timbered scrub. Calin obeyed. There wasn't time to argue or question her call and she showed no intention of slowing down, or waiting. It was a case of run with me or goodbye. Did she have any idea where she was going?

Calin had always prided himself on his fitness. He trained daily. He could match the best of them on endurance running. Keeping pace with Jess though had him at full stretch. She was unbelievable. They'd run about a mile when they heard the helicopters approaching overhead. Obviously escape by bike had been ruled out. Had the bike been located?

She stopped.

"What's wrong?" asked Calin, his lungs screaming for relief

"Just getting my bearings."

"Do you know this area?"

"No, but I grew up in wooded terrain like this." The roar of a single helicopter was now directly overhead. They breathed easier as it continued on its way.

"So that makes you an expert?" It sounded much harsher than Calin intended.

"I've not walked us into a trap yet," she countered.

"I deserved that." It was as close as he could come to apology. "Tell me, Jess, what have you come up with."

"My daddy was a man of the land and he taught me many things about survival in the bush. And the thing he talked about most was the bush's need for water. 'Where there's plant life, there's water and that applies as much to the forest as it does the suburban garden.' I've never forgotten that.

"So one just has to follow the fall of the land to find the water source, and that's precisely what I was doing. He used to say H2O doesn't spell water, it spells survival. " She stopped for a moment and pointed towards the sound of the retreating aircraft, "That, however, will necessitate a change in plan. I'd bet my life, it's ferrying half of the armed soldiers to set a trap somewhere in front of us, probably near the water. And I'd suggest the remaining six are tracking us from behind, and driving us into the blazing guns of their companions."

"Are you sure you didn't go to military college?"

"No, I just read about how the Indians used to hunt buffalo by herding them towards a cliff. In their panic to escape, the terrified animals jumped to their death and the Indians feasted on buffalo meat."

"Had you been a buffalo, what would you have done?"

"Turned the attack back on the hunters," Jess replied.

"Are you suggesting we do that?"

"No, but we have to come up with the unexpected."

"Any ideas?" he asked.

"Let me ask you a question first."

"Have you been in this situation before?"

"I don't know." Anticipating his reaction she steeled her body for the pain she knew she'd experience.

"Not good enough, Calin, I saw you with the rapist," she screamed as she launched herself at him in a vicious and unexpected attack. His response didn't disappoint. The kick aimed as his groin missed by inches. He acted on instinct. He grabbed her arm and rolled. The impact with the ground winded her. She gasped for breath.

"They're coming, get out of here." There was desperation in her voice. "Leave me, Calin, I'm the surprise. You can do it." She saw hesitation in his eyes. "For fuck's sake, go man, it's your only chance."


Her tactic amazed him. Such clear thinking and decisiveness of action was the trademark of an experienced operative, not a regimented gymnast. Who was this young woman? There wasn't however time to dwell on identities, future possibilities, or to analyse. It was time to act. Jess was correct, someone was approaching. It was time to trust his inner judgement.

There was only one way to go. Unlike the herded buffalo, he adopted Jess's plan. He headed back towards the pursuers, not directly but in a wide sweeping route. He saw them; three abreast, about ten yards apart. Like the Indian hunters in Jess's story, these men weren't interested in silent chase; their actions gave rise to the belief noise was a necessary ingredient in intensifying the quarry's panic.

To Calin this signified arrogance and a lack of respect for the ability of those being pursued. Arrogance is a soldier's greatest liability. Never go into battle believing you're invincible, rather, go into battle and prove it. The thought came from a past he could no longer recall.

From being pursued, Calin became the pursuer. He remained a couple of hundred yards behind the trio. As they drew closer to where Jess waited, he decreased the distance between himself and them. Absolute stealth saw the gap reduced to thirty yards as they approached the point where Jess sat.


Jess heard the rustle of undergrowth moments before they burst from the bush. She lay flat on the ground. Fear overwhelmed her. Where was Calin?

Jess feigned unconsciousness but maintained a minimal line of vision through squinted eyes. She watched two of the soldiers run towards her, the third soldier held back. Jess closed her eyes and waited.


Calin observed. The separation bothered him, had it been planned? Or was it a tactical error. He thought not, he'd neither seen nor heard any form of communication. It was tardiness, this soldier was tired, his concentration wavering.

Doubt came with the memory. The distance between him and the soldier was about the same as the distance between him and the rapist. A soldier wouldn't miss at this range. If only he was ten yards closer. He needed some form of distraction.

Jess's scream stunned everyone. The two soldiers closest to her threw themselves either side of Jess, their weapons aimed squarely at her head. The third soldier fell to his knees and took a position behind a tree. That gun also pointed towards the source of the scream. In his concentrated focus the soldier neither saw nor heard the swift movement behind him.

Calin hit the soldier with every ounce of energy he possessed. Muhammad Ali couldn't have landed a better punch. Instant shock confronted Calin, the knocked-out soldier was female, a female paratrooper. Recognition followed, her face was familiar but he couldn't source a name. Or for that matter any memory of where he had seen her.

After securing the young woman with restraints found in her knapsack, Calin turned his attention to the two soldiers now back on their feet and standing over Jess. "Drop 'em, or die," he called.

They neither acknowledged nor responded to Calin's instruction. "Time's ticking, boys, try anything and you're dead. At this range I won't miss.

"You've got three seconds. One. Two." The weapons were surrendered. "Grab the guns, Jess, and get over here." She didn't require a second invitation.

"On the ground, guys, and face down."

Calin grabbed more rope from the female soldier's kit. The complex knots came so easily. Without a knife no one would untie these ropes.

While Jess stood guard over the second soldier, Calin walked the other soldier over to the tree line. Once there he secured him to a tree. He repeated the process with the second soldier.

Prior to hoisting the still unconscious woman over his shoulder, he searched her pockets and backpack for some form of identification. There was none. A search of her companions yielded similar results. In fact they carried no documentation at all.

Something about the female soldier aroused vague recollection. They had, he felt certain, crossed paths somewhere. He needed to talk with her, but not here. She would, he hoped, provide some knowledge on his past. She may even provide salvation.