Napoleon's last tour, with a couple of well-to-do Yanquis, had left him near Manaus, in Brazil.  It was more city than he was accustomed to, but there were places were one could feel welcome.  The little bar at the end of town, for one place.  It was run by a colleague of his, one Jack O'Shea, a very strange Irishman who had married a local girl.  Jack knew of jobs, however, so it was worthwhile putting up with his eccentricities, and of course the beer was very good.

The afternoon thunderstorms were rolling in, so it was good to get out of the rain. He ducked under the thatched roof and stepped over a fat spotted dog, who was sleeping on the doormat, and looked through the gloom and tobacco smoke to see who was here.  Two old men, smoking and nursing their beers in a corner, and the luscious form of O'Shea's wife, Maria Alonza, who was scrubbing at the countertop, a slab of polished tiger maple.  She looked up as Napoleon moved closer and smiled a warm smile.  Just then the rain began to patter, then beat hard on the tin and thatch roof.

Napoleon La Tour nodded respectfully to the elders sipping their beer as he stepped into the dim bar room. In his mid-twenties, Napoleon looked more Guyanese Indian than French but, when he spoke his English was thickly accented Fracais. He had chosen English, knowing it to be the only language he and Jack's wife had in common.

" It has been a long time Maria, " La Tour said in response to her freindly smile. " You are still as lovely as the day you married Jack. " Napoleon returned her smile then and bellied up to the bar, sort of.

He only stood five feet tall and weighed 135 pounds soaking wet with sinewy muscles and a dark, swarthy complexion. His black hair was bowl cut with bangs just reaching down to above his chocolate, intelligent eyes. Napoleon wore a white cotton t-shirt, a grubby pair of tan trousers and sandals. He carried a canvas duffelbag, of the type that sailors use, over his left shoulder. It contained everything he owned in the world, yet it was only half full.

" Beer please, Maria." La Tour asked and waited for the pretty young woman to draw him a glass, watching her all the while. She really was easy on the eyes. Once she'd handed him the glass of dark liquid, he placed it to his lips and took a long pull, draining half it's contents before speaking again.

"So, the Irishman is here, Oiu ? I am seeking to speak with him, about work. My sort of work. Tracking, guiding in the jungle."

Napoleon studied the patterns of the wood in the highly polished countertop and listened to the percussion of the rain on the roof  while he waited for Maria to speak.

Maria Alonza replied in her sweet, husky voice, blushing from Napoleon's compliment. "He will be back in a while,"  and gave him his beer, offering him some fresh-cut limes if he wished. "Sit down, rest."

The rain beat heavily, the old men sipped and nodded at each other, and the dog stretched and rolled over, paws in the air.  Just as Napoleon was at the end of his glass, he heard the booming voice in the heavy Irish accent outside.  "My girl !"  roared O'Shea, as the dog leapt up and barked excitedly, dancing around his feet, but O'Shea ran first to the bar to give his wife a resounding kiss.  She laughed, delighted, and then the Irishman greeted the dog.  He was of course sopping wet.

Then the pale green eyes went straight to Napoleon, and the jovial expression on O'Shea faded into the glazed look and tranced face that he sometimes got.  "Oh." he said, and murmured something in Irish to himself, or to whatever ghost was whispering in his ear.  Then he shook himself like a dog shedding water, and grinned at Napoleon, awake again. "M'lad !"  he said, holding out a hand to shake.  "It's good to see you. There's something I wanted to talk to you about."
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:26, Fri 10 Dec 2004.

Napoleon had seen this trance like behaviour before from O'Shea. He'd observed it with some of the elders and shamans among his mother's people as well. LaTour was a man that walked in two worlds, the primitive jungle and the modern world. He could maneuver in either adeptly.

Still, it unnerved him a bit the way Jack's trance like state seemed to be brought on by viewing Napoleon himself. He glanced at Maria, to try to gauge her reaction to her husband's behaviour.

La Tour reached out his smaller hand to the big Irishman and took it, bracing himself for the usual agressive pumping that accompanied these reunions.

"Oiu! I too am glad to see you, Jack." Napoleon forced a smile despite his misgivings about the trance Jack had momemtarliy lapsed into.

" I hope you wanted to talk about some work you have found for me. I have just ended my last job."

Maria's gentle smile had faded to a serious frown as Jack O'Shea's trance came on, but since it seemed to be nothing foreboding, soon relaxed.   O'Shea carried on as if there had been nothing at all, and his booming voice resounded over the loud rain.  The Irishman shook hands and rocked Napoleon nearly off his feet, which was normal enough.  "It is well you came along, then.  You're staying the night - no, I wouldn't hear of anything otherwise.  There's a job come along, a tricky sort of job.  I'll tell you about it over a few drinks."

Somehow, the evening was taken care of. Maria Alonza poured them more delicious dark beer, and somehow managed to provide floury tortillas with plenty of beans and sweet pork for dinner.  Once dinner was well-seated in Napoleon's belly and the bar was empty of customers, the sun long set, O'Shea began to discuss business.

"There's a woman come along here," he said, "She's looking to mount an expedition into the deep Amazon.  She needs a guide who knows the natives and who can get her there and back, safely.  She's been to other guides, like Florry Pachino, and he turned her down, so you know she's got money to be talking to the likes of him, and that where she wants to go, is not easy to be getting to.  She'll be along tomorrow with the sunrise."   How O'Shea knew this, who could say.

Napoleon lived for a challenge. Especially a challenge involving the river and the jungle.

"  Of course I will speak to this woman, Jack. What is her name? Where does she come from? What does she seek in such a remote area that even Florry won't touch it?"

Napoleon's excitement got the better of him and he rattled off the questions in rapid fire succession.

After dinner he will make a pooint to thank Maria for the fine meal and beer, and will agree to sleep wherever the O'shea's can put him up, in order to meet with the possible female employer in the morning.

"She hasn't given a name, or a place, to me."  O'Shea responded, "But if I had to, I would call her Firecracker, seeking Hell.  She belongs to that group of beautiful and dangerous women, Napoleon, and her Spanish sounds Bolivian.  You will see her tomorrow.  But let me tell you....the rubber barons, they are causing a lot of trouble.  They're taking Indians and driving them like slaves, and there have been a lot of killings.  With your looks, they may try for you."  With the few candles flickering in the room, the Irishman's pale eyes looked even stranger.  His wife bustled around, collecting plates, refilling beer.

The rubber industry was always in need of workers, and here in Manaus it was very competitive...big business.  The rain had washed the stink of processing rubber from the air now, but it was only until the dawn came.

"Thank you for the warning, Jack. , Napoleon replied, " Do not fear. If the rubber barrons should get ahold of me it would be a small matter for me to simply dissapear back into the jungle while working out in the orchards."

Napoleon said this to put his freind at ease, as O'shea seemed very concerned for his safety. Of course, Napoleon, while quite confident of his skills in the jungle, was not as sure about his chances with the barrons as he let on. Besides, something in his freinds eyes was starting to make him... uneasy.

Napoleon glanced at Maria who was clearing away the plates. He knew she would not accept an offer to help.  Still she was so easy to watch.

"I look forward to tommorow then.  I am anxiuos to meet this Bolivian Firecracker and see how beautiful and dangerous she really is." Napoleon said , in an effort to break the tension.

Jack O'Shea's booming laugh rang through the tavern. "You will not light her fuse, I am hoping, unless you are ready for the explosion !"

Maria then served the sweet, rich coffee to the two men, pointedly taking away their tankards.  Jack smiled at her fondly, then returned his attention to Napoleon. "So, then, I will tell you the other news.  There has been trouble along the west, at the gold-mines.  Robberies, killings...a lot of trouble.  So when you tell me you need a boat, I will be only giving you my white boat.  It has an engine seven years old in it.  I will not cry a lot when it is sunk."

The half French, half Guyanese Indian laughed heartily with the big Irishman, " Sometimes the explosion is the whole point. We shall see, old friend, we shall see."

"The white boat will be fine. Often enough older is better, " Napoleon grinned at Jack. " I assume the usual rental fee will suit you, assuming I return?"

"Why so much trouble out west near the gold mines, Jack? What is the government doing about it?"

Napoleon sipped at his hot coffee, although he would have prefered another tankard of the house beer. He was enjoying this time with his old freind and the clatter of the rain as it drummed on the tin and thatch overhead.

"You won't be bringing it back,"  Jack O'Shea replied, in that offhand tone he got when the Fates were whispering to him.

"So, you'll have to replace it."  His voice resumed its more normal resonance.  "The gold mines are always trouble, but you know, Old Pete got shot over that way."  He shook his head. "Pete went back to his village, to heal up.  He said that it was getting very bad."  Old Pete ate and slept trouble, so that meant it was indeed very bad.  "He said there was a new company out there, one that had a lot of men, a lot of guns, taking over the smaller mines.  Some Yanquis are running it.  The government.....well, they are not helping the Indians."

Between Jack's matter of fact statement concerning the inevitable loss of his white boat and the news that tough old Pete had been shot and even said it was bad with a new company of Yanquis oppressing the Indians, well Napoleon was in need of another beer.

Instead he just drank his coffee and contemplated what this Bolivian woman, the one Jack refered to as a firecracker, might want to find or see in the jungle, up river where those gold mines are. It seems there is more here than meets the eye

" I will go all the same Jack, " The little half Indian man said, " without risk life is not worth living. Besides, I assume she pays good, this Bolivian firecracker?" Napoleon smiled, his teeth slightly stained from the sweet Cofee.

Good," said Jack O'Shea, "I am sure she will pay well.  Anyone wearing an emerald that large will pay very well indeed, more than enough to buy me another boat and keep you in luxury for many months."

The rain let up, prompting the old dog to roll to her feet and amble outside.  Maria Alonza bade them goodnight, and Jack waited a full minute before going to the bar to pull out a dusty, dark glass bottle.  "She will fuss if I pour this out, my old friend, but liquor this fine is meant for drinking."

Napoleon laughed good naturedly when Jack brought out the dark bottle, " You speak the truth Irishman." He waited until Jack had poured them each a glass, then held his aloft in a toast, " To old freinds and new. May you be in heaven half an hour before the devil knows your dead."

The Indian titlted his head back and threw down the hot liquid in one gulp, feeling the rush it brought to his belly then his face almost immediately.

" Jack, " Napoleon paused for a moment, " what exactly do you... see about the expedition,the white boat, me and this Bolivian woman?  What sort of vision is it that troubles you?"

"What must be,"  Jack O'Shea said, in a calm, serious tone. "You must go, and
she must go.  The white boat won't come back.  It has to do with the cycle of
time..."  He drifted off into the vague expression, his eyes fixed on
somewhere faraway.  "The mountain will waken, the lifeblood will spill forth,
and old reckonings made anew.  One watches.  One betrays."  He shivered then,
and rubbed his face with his calloused hand, clearly worn out. "Time for bed,"
 he muttered then, tiredly.  "You have the cot in the storeroom, for as long
as you need it."

With that, he staggered off to the small room that was their bedroom, and that
was it.

Napoleon listened intently to Jack's enigmatic, prophetic vision. He said not a word as the big Irishman concluded and watched him walk away. Not long after Napoleon finished his coffee and headed out towards the storeroom, enjoying the cool night air. He whistled for the dog to follow him, as was his custon when he stayed here, and shared the storeroom with the animal. Napoleon had a hard time drifting off to sleep, but he chalked it up to the coffee he had been drinking.

The night was a long one, and more than once Napoleon heard shots and shouts, and screams too, deep in it.  Whatever mischief afoot stayed away from Jack's place.  The old dog settled down to sleep, and the rain came again, pattering more gently on the tin roof.  Finally, he slept, deep dreams of the emerald jungle and the black river, and then the smell of frying bread and sausage awakened him.

Morning had come, and the world was bright with sunlight and promise again.  He came out as Maria Alonza was carrying a plate of food to him, and saw Jack already at the table, eating.  "Today, after the firecracker comes, we will take the engine down to the boat.  I don't leave the engines in them anymore, they get stolen."  Jack said. "And then I have to buy them back, and it becomes troublesome.  Did you sleep well ?"

After such a fitful sleep, Napoleon was quite glad to be awake. He took the plate from Maria Alonza and thanked her, noticing haow very pretty she looked in the morning light.  Jack is a lucky man


Napoleon seated himself across from Jack and said grace  silently, then commenced to enjoying the bread ans sausage Maria had fried for the two men.

" I slept fitfully. There was shooting in the night and screams. I don't remember manaus being like that when last i passed through here?"

After Jack had answered the French/Indian said, " So today I meet the Bolivian? I am anticipating this event very much."

"It's about rubber," Jack replied.  "All that fuss, about rubber, and the money from it.  She will come today, the Bolivian firecracker.  Our old dog, she will bark twice, because the woman gave her a treat.  So it is." They ate breakfast, washed down with the rich dark coffee, and considered the day.  There was no clock, and Jack did not keep a watch.

The old dog rolled back onto her belly and barked...twice, and a shadow fell across the doorway.  Napoleon noticed first the woman's eyes....a richer brown than he had ever seen, large and lovely, and raking him with a fierce look, as if fire lurked in their depths.  The rest of her was a delight to the eyes.  She was slender in the waist, full-bosomed and full-hipped, and wearing a khaki explorer's get-up, complete with pith helmet, her dark hair tied up in a knot at the back of her neck.  Her expression was serious, almost comically so, and she had a leather satchel over one shoulder, her hand possessively over it.

"Mr. O'Shea,"  she said, in a warning tone, her voice deeper than Napoleon expected, her accent Bolivian. "I have been waiting for two hours for you to come to my hotel, and finally I find you here, eating breakfast.  Does no one in Manaus keep a schedule ?"

"Begging your pardon, Miss Doctor,"  Jack O'Shea said, with a charming smile that did nothing to mollify her.  Napoleon heard Maria Alonza stifling a laugh at the scene.  The old dog snuffled at the woman's knees, hunting for a treat, which the woman absently pulled from a pocket and handed to the dog.  "You had said you wanted a guide to go into the high jungle, and it took some finding of him.  Here he is.  Miss Doctor Corazon, may I introduce you to Napoleon La Tour.  He has a boat to take you where you want to go, as soon as I put an engine in it."

Napoleon just nodded somberly at Jack's mention of the trouble that the rubber boom was causing the countryside. It was the same story all over South America and had been for years, Since the European's had come and brought with them their overwhelming avarice.

Napoleon thought the Bolivian was the most gorgeous woman he had ever laid eyes on. He believed this trip, no matter the danger, would be worth it if only for the time he would get to be near her. For a few seconds he could do nothing but stare. First into her beautiful eyes and then at the rest of her pretty frame. Finally he remembered his manners and stood, nodding his head slightly in her direction, " I am at your service, Mademmoiselle Corazon".

The Bolivian firecracker surveyed him as if he was a sack of manioc she did
not particularly care for.  "You know much about the Amazon ?"  she asked,
doubt tinging her tone.  The eyes that had such fire behind them, narrowed.

"There's no man better,"  Jack O'Shea said, and received a hostile glare for
his troubles.  Maria Alonza again had to try to cough to cover up her
laughter, that her charming husband was getting nowhere with this lady.

"I am a doctor in Bolivia,"  she said, speaking haughtily, and slowly, as if
her temper was on edge and she was trying not to lose it.  "I am going into
the Amazon to try to find my father, who went several months ago on an
expedition to speak to healers out there. He is also a doctor, a great man.
I will find him, or find what has happened to him.  I will be going into the
north jungle, deep into the jungle, following his map.  I do not have time
for any nonsense.  So you had better be a guide of some skill.  I will pay in
gold."

Napoleon looked steadily into the Bolivian woman's eyes and said flatly, " I know the jungle and the river well. I will find your father. The only nonsense will be if you cofuse simple for stupid. I am a simple man, but I am far from stupid, Doctor Corazon."

The Bolivian Firecracker went off, as threatened.  "Do not DARE to compare yourself to my father !"  She snapped, prompting the old dog to look at her in alarm and shuffle off.  "But at least you are looking at my face, while that other useless guide could only stare at my body.  I will hire you at twice your normal rate.  What is it ?"

Jack O'Shea promptly spoke up, naming Napoleon's usual fee - but quadrupled.

"Done,"  said Doctor Corazon, eyes flashing.  "When do we leave ?"

"Have to get the boat ready,"  Jack said. "Day after tomorrow ?"

"Tomorrow,"  growled the lady.  "Tomorrow !"

Napoleon's only reaction to the Bolivian woman's shouting "episode" is to blink, once while continueing to look at her eyes and resisting the temptation to observe the woman's beautiful traits.

He glanced sidelong at Jack when the named the extremely high figure for his fee but said nothing, only nodding once.

" The boat will need work, Senora, if we are to succeed.

"Fine, but do not waste my time,"  the Bolivian firecracker snapped.  "I will pay you in gold, one-quarter when we depart, the rest upon our return. Tomorrow, at dawn, I will be here, and you had better be ready !"  With that, she turned on her heel and left.

Jack O'Shea let out his breath, in a long sigh, and Maria Alonza dissolved into helpless giggles.  "Told you.  Come on then, Napoleon, we have work to do !"

The day was well advanced as the two men finally got the engine mounted, and were busy priming it to test it, when a shadow fell across them from the dock.  A burly man in a tan uniform stood there, smoked-dark glasses concealing his eyes, a splendid oiled mustache obscuring his face.  "You are the men who work for Doctor Corazon ?"  he asked, in a voice that sounded threatening. A large and ugly sidearm was at his hip.

Napoleon held the hefty crescent wrench he had used to tighten the bolts that held the engine in place loosely in his right hand as he straigtened up to look at the menacing man with the pistol on his thigh. Napoleon cursed himself silently for leaving his knife in his duffel bag on the deck.

" Not him, Monseiur," Napoleon said in reply and indicating Jack with a jerk of his free thumb, " He just helps me with the boat. I work for the Doctor." He eyes the man's hands and not his eyes, ready to move at the first hint of trouble.

"Ah," said the army officer, "You are the man I want to talk to."  He turned the sunglasses toward Napoleon.  Somehow, the blank gaze was terribly threatening, and a chill ran along Napoleon's spine as the man spoke.  This fellow, whoever he was, was a stone-cold killer.  "That Doctor, she is making a lot of trouble for me.  Many things can go wrong in the jungle...and her luck, it is running out.  I do not want her father found.  I do not want her to find what he seeks.  Do you understand me ?"

Napoleon La Tour matched the man's gaze now and nodded solemnly. " I think we have... an understanding.The jungle, she is a big place and much can go wrong, yes?" Napoleon grinned with the man as if he was sharing some private joke with him.

"That is good,"  the officer replied, with a smile no more pleasant than that of a crocodile.  "See to it that something goes wrong, and all will be well for you, La Tour, very well.  I do not want to be bothered by Dr. Corazon again.  Come to me with proof, and this will be yours.  She wears a little gold cross - bring it to me."  He held up a raw emerald, green as life itself, bigger than Napoleon's thumbnail. It was worth a small fortune. The gem vanished quickly, as did the smile.  "Fail me, and you will find Manaus...and anywhere else...to be very...difficult."

The little half Guyanese, half French man only smiled back at the man with the big emerald and the bigger gun, letting him draw his own conclusions from the facial expression. Napoleon then resumed working on the engine, plainly dismissing the officer with his actions. He did, however, keep the man in his peripheral vision until he had left the area, just to be sure he did not decide to attack La Tour or his large Irish friend.

Napoleon watched the officer leave, then met O'Shea's eyes.  "A dangerous man,"
the Irishman said quietly, and bent to tighten a bolt down.  "Be careful about
him."

Finally the engine was seated and tested, and ran rough, with a lot of smoke.
"Damn and thunderation, you faithless whore !"  Jack O'Shea cursed it, shaking a wrench.  It stopped, prompting worse swearwords from the Irishman.

Napoleon nodded a little when Jack told him the man was dangerous, " I think maybe that man, He misunderstands me." The dark little man's eyes seemed to twinkle with mischief as he spoke to his freind.  Napoleon burst out laughing as the big Irishman cursed and gestured at the cantankerous old engine.

Jack O'Shea nodded.  "Supposed to be a Colonel or sommat,"  the Irishman said. "But he's dangerous.  Has a string of ghosts following him, and they all looked pretty wretched."  He devoted his attention to the motor and began to pull it apart, looking for the reason for this untoward behaviour.  "Bought the damn thing off a Kraut, wouldn't you know, ran like a top for him,"  O'Shea said, when he wasn't swearing the air blue.

"Let's hope it does not give this kind of trouble in the jungle., Napoleon said as Jack went back to working the engine, " You know me Jack, I can handle a boat, but these engines, they baffle me. Seems like the pretty Doctor has a long trip planned and I'd rather not have to pole and paddle all the way up the Amazon to find her father."

While O'Shea repaired the motor, La Tour busied himself with conducting an inventory of what was on the boat and cheking the condition of the equipment as well.

It is a typical gaiola, a riverboat, about 25 feet long and 10 wide; it has a small bridge, three cabins just big enough for narrow cots, a fringed awning and plenty of places for hammocks to be slung. About 12 feet of deck is uncovered, fore and aft, and the motor sits in a casement at the back.  There are 6 oars, 2 very long poles, and a small canoe resting on the deck with a paddle laced to it, that can seat two people. There is a net and some fishing poles, rope and a small anchor.  It has a fresh coat of white paint and bears the name "Brigid". The motor is diesel and the only part of the boat that troubles the little tracker.

"I'll need a small advance, my freind. I can repay you tommorow when she gives me my up front money. I'll have to lay on supplies of food and such." Jack could tell Napoleon despised asking him for money, but he had none to speak of.

"I'll wait here,"  Jack O'Shea said, opening up his tool chest to show a pair of pistols, a small snub-nosed one and a bigger one with a mother-of-pearl grip.  "I have a feeling someone will not want this boat to go anywhere."

He handed Napoleon over a collection of coins, hopefully enough to lay on food, fuel and whatnot.

The little French-Guyanese looked at the arsenal Jack showed him and shook his head slightly. " You know I don't like gun's Jack." He smiled broadly and opened his duffel bag, finding the large and razor sharp fighting knife he kept there, he tucked it's sheath and the weapon into the back of his belt and made sure his shirt covered it.

Placing the coins offered in his pocket, Napoleon hopped onto the rickety wooden pier and started to walk through the throngs of people towards the market.

" Try not to shoot your self while I'm gone, Jack!" He called good naturedly, before he dissapeared into the crowded and narrow mud streets of Manaus.

Jack O'Shea laughed, and Napoleon hurried off to get the shopping done.
There were bananas, manioc, flour and beans, coffee, tins of meat, and rum
and chocolate; water-jugs, a closed stove that would not burn down the boat,
and a set of pots and pans.  He bargained and argued with the rest of the
shoppers, though when it came in comparison to the extreme shopping skills
of the local housewives, he was left in the dust.  Finally he had hired two
strong men to help carry the purchases, and was returning in triumph to the
boat.  A man in a khaki suit was at the docks, pacing back and forth
impatiently, as Jack watched him placidly.

" I have purchased everything the firecracker could wish for, " Napoleon started while pointing the two men carrying most of the supplies and provisions in the right direction, " whose your nervous companion." The small man watched the man pacing the dock's in his peripheral vision, as the last visitor in Khakis had been less the socialable.

"Are you Mr. La Tour ?"  the man in khaki asked, with a distinct British accent. He looked put-upon, harried and bossed around, but grimly determined to carry out his tasks. "I am looking for a boat that can take three people into the Amazon.  I'm authorized to pay top dollar."

" I am he." Napoleon said, deciding the Englishman was harmless. " But the boat, she belongs to Jack over there, " He nodded in the big Irishman's direction, " and he's already hired out both the boat and my services to someone much prettier than you." He watched as the two men carrying the goods and provisions he'd purchased finished stowing the equipment aboard the river boat. " Maybe these three people could wait? May be I work for them when I'm done with the first contract, Yes?"

"I have gold,"  the man said, with a stiff upper lip in the manner of a good Englishman.  "I expect the gentleman and his party to arrive shortly; they might even be here to-day.  It is a matter of some urgency."

Jack O'Shea arched an eyebrow and looked over at Napoleon - seeming to indicate 'it's your call'.

Napoleon thought about the Bolivian woman and her urgency to find her father. " This boat, she is promised to someone else. Once I give my word I dont take it back." Napoleon replied to the uptight Englishman as he stepped around him and down into the river boat. " Now maybe my fare would not be opposed to going up river with your party as well, together. I will ask when I see her. That is the best I can do, Monsuer. " Napoleon grinned and shrugged slightly to emphasize his point.

"I can only hope that this is so, that I may be able to place them aboard.  My employer's mission is urgent also, I assure you. He knows the jungle well, so there won't be any difficulty - you could just drop him off."  the Englishman replied, pulling out handkerchief and mopping his sweaty brow.  The man seemed to be having a rough day.  "Shall I be along tomorrow morning, here, then ?"

" I would like to know who your employer is and what his mission maybe? I'm sure my fare will refuse any company if she doe not know who it is and what their business is as well. She is...she can be a difficult woman." Napoleon grinned at the English gent and waited for him to answer the question.

The Englishman paused, pulled out a vial of pills - quinine, from the look of them, and took one. That explained the wretched appearance; malaria flaring up.

 "He's a very rich old bastard who wants to go roam around the jungle," the man said, somewhat bitterly.  "I'd advise you to take him for every sovereign you can wring from his pockets, and not to cross him, not on your life would I cross him."

" I'll tell you what, Monsuer. You bring this man around tommorow morning and we'll see what She says. If it's ok with the woman, it's ok with the guide." Napoleon smiled at the man, clearly not caring if his answer sat well with the Englishman or not. " There are no guarantees." La Tour turned his back, dismissing the man with the gesture and went back to the stern to see if Jack needed any assistance. " Well, she will run? this motor of yours, yes?"

"I'll take it,"  the Englishman said.  He took himself away, with a wobble to his walk.

"I think you have to speak German to her,"  Jack O'Shea said, weighing a wrench in his hand and giving the motor an evil look.  "Here, there, shatzi, guten-tag, hallo ?"  But with another two hour's worth of work, the engine was at last starting and staying, and the smoke had abated.  The sun was also close to setting.

"We can't leave her here,"  Jack said.  "There's a spot I hide things at,  we can stow her there and walk through the rough back to the bar."

Napoleon simply nodded at the Englishman then helped Jack finish with the motor for the river boat. He untied the moorings and cast off the  boat from the dock, so that they could take her down the river to Jack's hidden jungle landing. While the engine hummed the pair of freinds through the water, Napoleon marveled at the beauty of the river and the jungle, especially at sunset.

La Tour used the time to bring his bow out from his sea bag and strung the weapon. He grasped a half dozen arrows as well, thinking he might find a bird or a monkey for dinner when the two would walk back through the bush to Jacks place.

Jack guided the boat carefully along a dark route, the hanging vines brushing the men and the cabin.  Monkeys chattered overhead, and the big bats began to fly, looking for fruit. Finally, in a clot of weeds and mud, Jack put the boat up by the bank and pulled more vines and cover around it, to hide it further.

They set off through the rough, hearing monkeys chattering overhead. Napoleon managed to shoot one, and then was about to shoot at a whuffling, snuffling thing in the darkness, when he realised it was Jack's old dog come to find them.  "Ah, Maria Alonza must have dinner ready and she is tired of waiting for us,"  Jack said, with a laugh, and the two men returned to the bar at the edge of town.

Maria Alonza was indeed waiting, as was a one-eyed white man in a new khaki outfit and old, scuffed boots.

"Good evening, Mr. O'Shea, Mr. La Tour,"  the man greeted them in English.  He had a bottle of the expensive whiskey in front of him, so he had to have money.

The little tracker helped Jack hide the boat from prying eyes or other dangers. La Tour was glad he had not jumped the gun and shot the dog. He squatted in the easy way of his mothers Guyanese people and scrathed the dog behind her ears.

Napolean La Tour ignored the man pointedly at first, looking to the pretty Maria he said, " Maria, I hope we did not worry you or keep you waiting long. There was much work to do with the boat, Madamoiselle." and smiled. He offered her the monkey had had skewered on the stroll back through the jungle, holding it out by it's tail. " I know monkey meat is a favorite here."


Napoleon eyed the bottle of good liquor the one eyed man held as he spoke, " The whole town of Manaus is overflowing with khaki clad would be adventurers Jack, No?"  His comment was good natured and held no malice.

" Good evening Monsuer... . You have us at a disadvantage. " He said and finally acknowledged the man's presence.

Maria Alonza received the monkey with a happy smile.  It would make a fine meal.

The one-eyed man nodded.  "My name is Jack Hornsby," he said, and stood up to offer his hand, to shake. "I am an adventurer, with the scars to prove it, and I've been around a long time.  I have a warning to give you.  A man is going to want passage on your boat, he's going to be by tomorrow morning.  He's calling himself Basil Rose.  Take him along, and watch your back.  He's not above murder."

His age was hard to place - perhaps late 30's, for he carried himself with strength, though the deep-bitten tan and lines on his face suggested he might be as much as 50 years old.  The remaining eye was a sharp hazel green, and alert.  "And don't mention my name, if you would,"  Hornsby said. "Basil and I have a score to settle.  I'll see to it you make it past the army all right - I'm good at that sort of thing.  And if the Firecracker has something to say on't - "  He had a funny way of speaking, an accent that Napoleon had not heard before - "give her this."  In his hand was a pair of battered spectacles, one of the lenses badly chipped. "I got them from her father,"  he added, "Four months ago."

" I will take this Basil Rose with me, Monseur, if you can tell me more about Those spectacles. Where is the man you got then from now? Is he alive? Where should I start looking for him?" Is it an agreement?"

Naploeon wondered how this man knew so much about the latest endeavor he and Jack were involved in, and the Bolivian beauty as well. There was a lot of gossip along the river, really the only form of entertainment for many people, besides booze and making babies. He shrugged it off. This job was proving to be quite interesting.

" It seems our little boat will be chock full of more would be killers and murderers than I used to track from Devil's island." he laughed aloud.

" Come, sit with us at dinner and tell us what you know of those spectacles and their former owner?" He asked the one-eyed adventurer.

Hornsby sat down. "Yes," he said simply, in agreement with Napoleon on the quality of his passengers.

He picked up the glass after filling it full of scotch again. "He gave them to me, and said that his daughter would come looking for him.  I came to town two days ago, and I am very good at tracking.  She was easy to find, but since she would shoot me on sight - there are few women so good with a pistol - I have kept my distance.  As for her father, he had plenty to do; he did not want to leave."

Napoleon drank a little of the Scotch with the One-eyed man. " If her father knows she would come looking for him, what does he do that is so important to him that he would have his own daughter risk such a dangerous journey? "

La Tour gave the man room to speak before asking mor questions, " Where up the river is Dr. Corazon? Could you show me rougly on Jack's map? Looks to Jack, " You've got a map, right?"

As an after thought Napoleon asks, " Why would the beautiful Bolivian want to shoot you? "

"He is in a place that few can find, and then only at great cost,"  Hornsby replied. "But his daughter has the map.  She wants to shoot me for a few reasons,"  he grinned suddenly, with a boyish cast to his face, that spoke of the mischief that men and women can get up to. "So I'll stay clear of her, be it for the best, and you can bring her to where she wants to be."

It seemed that Hornsby talked in riddles too.