He had wanted to leave then, before the father asked any questions. Perhaps a missionary would hold his curiosity. But the priest had proved otherwise. And now he had no choice but to either kill them or take them into some kind of confidence. And killing them wasn’t really an option either, was it? They had done nothing; they were innocent.

The woman’s eyes were ringed in red, as if she’d been crying recently. He smiled at the father. “You’re a persistent man. You don’t give me much choice. But trust me, you may wish you’d let me go.”

“Is that a threat? I suppose that goes for the sister as well.”

He noted the woman’s quick glance at the priest. So she was a nun then. Or at least she was being cast as a nun by the father. “Did I threaten your life, Father?”

The father glanced at the nun. “You don’t have anything to fear from us.”

Casius decided he would give them a bone, a herring—just enough to draw out their knowledge of the region. Sooner or later they would call on the radio, of course. But by then it would no longer matter.

“I work for the DEA. You know the agency?”

“Of course. Drug enforcement.”

“We suspect a significant operation south of here. I’m on a reconnaissance mission. I was inserted a mile from here, at the top of the western ridge.”

The priest nodded.

Casius paused, searching their eyes. “I’m planning to take the Caura River south tonight.” In reality he was headed north, of course. “As for my dress, I realize it’s not every day you see a westerner traipsing through the brush near naked. But then I’m Brazilian, from Caracas.”

“You don’t sound so Brazilian,” the father said.

Casius ran out a long sentence of fluid Portuguese, telling him he was wrong before switching back to English. “I attended university in the United States. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a few questions of my own.”

“And your name?” the father asked.

“You may call me Casius. Anything else, Father? My GPA perhaps? My ancestry?”

The woman chuckled and then launched into a cough. Casius smiled at her. “You’re quite bold, Sister. Not many women would willingly choose the jungle as a place to live.”

She nodded slowly and spoke for the first time. “Well, I suppose I’m not most women, then. And not many men, Brazilian or not, would run through the jungle, half naked, in bare feet.”

She sounded as if she had a cold from her husky tone. He ignored the comment. “Have you heard rumors of any drugs south?” he asked, turning back to the father.

“To the south? Actually no. Which is surprising, because most of the Indians we serve are from the south. How far did you say?”

“Thirty miles, along the Caura River.”