Holland, as he liked to be called, was tall, easily six foot four, muscular, with a light-brown goatee and a shaved head. He wore a white paracord bracelet on one wrist and an enormous black watch on the other. He had spent the previous five minutes recounting his bio: forty-two years old, ex–British Special Forces, advanced trauma medic, skilled survivalist, and senior instructor in jungle warfare. After leaving the military, he started a company called TAFLS, Television and Film Logistics and Safety. He specialized in bringing television and film crews into the most dangerous and inhospitable environments. He’d worked with several TV shows—including Running Wild with Bear Grylls, Survivorman, Extreme World, and Naked and Afraid—and on numerous documentaries.

Holland and his partner—Ian Rixby, whom they would meet the following day—would be in charge of Andy and the other expedition team members’ safety while in the jungle.

There were eight of them seated around a U-shaped table in the Republica Conference Room on the fourth floor of the ritzy Hotel Presidente—plus the two cameramen walking around the room shooting footage. In addition to Holland, the fresh faces were Alejándro Cala, head of archaeology for Bolivia; Bernita Capobianco, Bolivian anthropologist; Lieutenant Mauricio Goytia, liaison to the Bolivian Army; and Nathan Buxton, adventure and travel writer for National Geographic.

The “orientation,” as Jonathan Roth called it, began fifteen minutes earlier. Roth started off the meeting with a rah-rah speech about fate, destiny, and discovery. How over a hundred different expeditions had searched for the lost city of the Incas and none had succeeded. It felt a bit scripted to Andy—no doubt Roth had practiced the speech several times in front of the mirror—and it was certainly as much for the benefit of the cameras on the shoulders of Sean and Darnell as it was for the expedition team. But it was intoxicating nonetheless, and it had Andy buzzing to get into the jungle and get his hands dirty. That is, until Holland stood up and began speaking.

“The fer-de-lance,” Holland repeated, “is one of the most poisonous snakes in the world. They hide in the rocks, the trees, the bushes. They come out at night, are attracted to activity, and I can tell you from experience that they are irritable as hell. I can almost guarantee at some point you will encounter one of these arseholes.

“We’re going into one of the most isolated areas on earth, where choppers can’t fly at night, where weather can change in an instant, and where evacuation might not be possible for days. If you get bit by one of these blokes, you’ll lose a limb at best, and that’s if you survive. That’s why it’s important to always wear your Kevlar snake gaiters, especially at night when you get up to piss.”