“Bullshit.” Gilroy had appeared around the curve of the path ahead. “I was perfect. I never screw up. Ask Margaret.” He shoved Baldwin stumblingly forward. “I whisked this piece of crap out of that tent and through that jungle with the superb skill that you could never hope to equal. Isn’t that right, Margaret?”

“He was adequate,” Margaret said dryly. “And it was good to have someone strong enough to carry Baldwin until we reached the creek bed where footprints didn’t matter. That’s why we decided to let him come along.”

“Adequate?” Gilroy repeated, outraged. “I was far more than—”

“Where’s Alisa?” Korgan asked curtly. “Since Margaret hasn’t seen fit to sic her dog on you, I take it you didn’t get her killed.”

“About a mile behind us,” Gilroy said. “You said you wanted Baldwin to disappear. It seems Alisa is taking you at your word. It didn’t matter how slim the chances were of anyone seeing those footprints. She’s been erasing them and getting rid of all hint of spoor since we left the creek bed.”

“She doesn’t like to risk making a mistake,” Margaret said quietly.

“I know that,” Korgan said. “Vogel, get a couple of men out here to pick up Baldwin and take him to the tent for interrogation, then get rid of those damn footprints Alisa is so worried about.”

“She’ll want to do it herself,” Margaret said.

“I know that, too.” He started down the path. “I’ll take care of it. You go on to camp and get some rest, Margaret. You’ve done your job.”

“And quite ‘adequately,’” Gilroy said. “But I was superb.”

She smiled. “Maybe. But Alisa won’t admit that until you get that prisoner across the border yourself so she can tell Korgan the mission’s completed.”

“Then by all means let’s give her what she wants.” He nudged Baldwin forward again. “Let me escort you and Juno to the finish line, asshole.”

*  *  *

“You’re done, Alisa,” Korgan said flatly. “Margaret turned over Baldwin to me. Now stop trying to clean up the entire jungle to prove how efficient you are.”

She turned around and lifted the beam of her flashlight from the ground to see his face. “You’re angry again,” she said wearily. “Nothing pleases you, does it? I’ve done what you wanted. You have Baldwin. Proof of intent. But I’m not quite finished. Go away and I’ll get this last bit done.”

“You’re done,” he repeated. “You’ve done more than I ever had a right to ask you. You’ve given me what I wanted. Now just get the hell back to camp, will you?”

She went back to carefully brushing all signs of footprints from the path with the branch she was using. “When I’ve finished.”