Chapter Nine
"What would produce a clearing in the woods like this?" asked Dr. Stockwell, shrugging off his pack as he addressed his question to the group at large.
Their guide was first to answer. "Some say giants rest here long ago," he said. "Kick over trees while sleeping."
"Giants," Chalmers muttered. "Bloody rubbish."
"It could easily be something in the soil," said Audrey Moreland, speaking as their botanist in residence. "A nutrient deficiency, perhaps, or deviation in the depth of topsoil."
"I almost prefer the giant story," Stockwell said. "It's more… romantic somehow."
"Bloody great oaf sleeping rough and knocking over trees," said Chalmers. "Where's the romance?"
"You misunderstand me, Mr. Chalmers. Romance needn't be a thing of lust and sweaty flesh. It can be attitude and atmosphere, as well."
"I'll take mine straight up, thank you very much."
The pup tents were assembled quickly, Remo helping Audrey out with hers when she got tangled up.
"There's not much room in here," she told him, frowning.
Remo said, "There's not supposed to be. It's one per customer."
"Suppose I wanted company?" she asked, wide-eyed.
"I guess you'd have to improvise."
"I'm good at that," she said, and let him feel her breasts again as she brushed past him, wriggling clear.
He followed, caught a parting glimpse of Audrey's swaying backside as she headed for the tree line.
"Audrey?" Dr. Stockwell called, sounding anxious.
"Call of nature, Safford. I'll be fine."
Pike Chalmers watched her go, felt Remo watching him and glared back in defiance, resting one hand on his Colt revolver. Like a frigging cowboy, Remo thought, and broke off the staring game himself this time, as if he didn't recognize the challenge.
Let it go, he told himself. For now.
The time might come when he would have to deal more forcefully with Chalmers, but he saw no need to push it now. He would give the Brit some rope, enough to hang himself if he were so inclined.
As if by mutual consent, the five men waited until Audrey had returned from answering her call of nature, only then resuming the assorted tasks required to put their camp in shape.
"Need dry wood for the fire," Kuching Kangar announced, at which point Dr. Stockwell and the Malay deputy went off to lay in a supply.
"Be careful, Safford," Audrey cautioned, her tone almost admonishing him.
"We won't go far," said Stockwell, taking it as a sincere expression of concern.
"Is there a stream nearby?" asked Remo, playing greenhorn to the hilt.
"That way," the guide directed him, a bony finger pointing toward the trees, due north. "Not far."
"I'll fetch some water," Remo said, and found the coffeepot among their meager cooking gear.
"I'll help," Audrey volunteered, scooping up another pot and trailing Remo toward the trees.
It didn't take them long to lose sight of the camp, though Remo still picked up the sound of voices crystal clear. There was another trail of sorts, though smaller than the one they had been following throughout the afternoon, which led directly from the clearing to the stream.
"Is this your first time in the jungle?" Audrey asked.
"In Asia," Remo lied. "I've tramped around a fair bit in the Western Hemisphere."
"When you were chasing vipers?"
"More or less."
"That sounds like an exciting life."
"It has its moments."
"I can imagine."
No, you can't, he thought, but said, "I can't believe you're all that bored. You don't seem like the type who'd stick with something if it drove you up the wall."
"Oh, really? What type am I, Renton?"
"An adventuress at heart, I'd say. You like a bit of living on the edge."
"That doesn't mean I turn my nose up at security," she said.
"Of course not. Still… "
"Still, what?"
"I can't imagine you'd be satisfied to settle for a safe job in a rut."
"You may be right, at that."
They reached the stream, and Remo found it somewhat larger than he had expected. Twenty feet across, he guessed, from where they stood, and deep enough that he couldn't make out the bottom more than two feet from the shore.
"No crocodiles, you said." Her fingers were already toying with the buttons of her denim shirt.
"I wouldn't recommend a swim, regardless," Remo said.
"Why not?"