“Maybe we can lose them in the mists,” Paul replied.

Gamay spun the dugout around and pointed the bow toward the falls. Paul and Tessa were right behind. The water became choppy as they neared the falls. The Indians doggedly kept in pursuit. With their strength and skill they were rapidly closing the gap. The falls loomed closer and the mists enveloped them, but it became apparent that they would be pounded to pieces by the falls if they got closer to the torrents.

Paul shouted over the roar. “Francesca, we need help from your bag of tricks.”

Francesca shook her head.

Tessa picked up on Paul's frantic plea. “I have something,” she said. She handed over the sack that had rested between her knees. Paul reached into the bag, and his fingers closed on a hard object. He pulled out a 9mm pistol.

“Where did this come from?” he said with astonishment.

“It was Dieter's.”

Paul looked back at the oncoming canoes, then at the cascading falls. He had little choice. Regardless of Francesca's wishes that her former subjects not be hurt, they were between the devil and the deep blue sea. Arrows were flying in their direction.

Paul plunged his hand into the bag again, looking for extra rounds. This time he came out with a GlobalStar satellite phone. Dieter must have used it to keep in touch with his buyers. He stared at it a moment before the significance of the find sank in. He yelled with joy.

Gamay had moved closer and saw the phone. “Does that thing work?”

He pushed the ready light, and the phone was on. “I'll be damned.” Paul handed Gamay the phone. “Give it a try. I'll see if I can scare those guys off.”

Gamay punched a number out on the phone. Seconds later a familiar deep voice answered.

“Kurt!” Gamay yelled into the phone. “It's me.”

“Gamay? We've been worried about you. Are you and Paul okay?”

She glanced at the oncoming canoes and swallowed hard. “We're in a hell of a mess, and that's an understatement.” She had to shout over the roar of the falls. “Can't talk, I'm calling on a GlobalStar. Can you get a fix on our position?”

Crack!

Paul had laid a shot across the bow of Alaric's canoe, but it failed to slow him down.

“Was that a gun?”

“That was Paul shooting.”

“Hard to hear you with that background noise. Hold on.”

The seconds ticked by like years. Gamay had no illusions about her call. Even with a position fix it could be days before someone came to their aid. At least Austin would know what happened to them. Austin's voice came back on, calm and reassuring. “We've got a lock on you.”

“Good. Gotta go!” Gamay answered, ducking low as an arrow whizzed past like an angry bee.

With Gamay and Paul busy, their canoes had drifted side ways to the waves. They dug their paddles in and got the boats around. Both dugouts rocked dangerously, but they moved closer to the falls where the mists might hide them.