Lett was guarding a modest courtyard with the others. They had slept through the darkness and were woken at dawn. The sun was only now rising above the treetops of the hills. Lett manned one solitary corner of the courtyard, and the beast stood its own ground in the low grass between the courtyard and a line of jungle foliage. It kept its black eyes on Lett, and he couldn’t help staring back.

He thought it was a water buffalo and Jock had called it an Oriental cow, but another man told him, “They call it a carabao here. It’s the national animal—their bald eagle.”

And that horned beast wouldn’t stop staring. Lett would shift his view from time to time, since he was watching the perimeter after all. But every time he turned back around, the beast was still eyeballing him. He wondered if the animal had any idea he was carrying a weapon. They had rifles this time, not submachine guns. He had an M1 carbine, his trusty favorite from the war, light on his shoulder, his thumb tucked under the strap of Army-green webbing. This time their weapons were loaded. Lett didn’t like the idea—not at all. He’d practically started when they issued him ammo to load and told him to show the ones who hadn’t handled an M1, yet he couldn’t help but assume the role. He’d done it so often. It didn’t make him jitter or act out or black out, and to his surprise, it calmed him so much that he forgot all about taking his dose.

The courtyard had uneven paving stones, pocked and cracking, the seams growing weeds. It didn’t seem like a place intended for an official meeting. It had one narrow road in, lined with lush green ridges on either side. A dilapidated sign read CAGAYAN MINING COMPANY. The building facing the courtyard was nondescript, two stories, stucco. A few low Quonset huts stood beyond, and a warehouse of rusting corrugated metal. Four heavy cargo trucks waited there, two of them weighted down, the tires close to fenders, their loads covered in canvas. The two other trucks stood empty, standing tall.

Kanani would want to know about it. Lett still didn’t want to know about it. He just wanted to get the assignment over with. An hour into the guarding, he was growing restless. What the hell were they even watching for? And why had they brought them all the way here? Still no one told them. It grew more humid, and the light M1 weighed heavier on his shoulder than it should have been. If he grew jittery and felt like shooting up a dose—it was quite all right under the circumstances, he assured himself.