Emil Watson had worked at the mud factory for five years and never lost a worker, and he wasn’t about to start now. Besides, the boss had been very specific: bring ‘em back, dead or alive. So, one way or another, they were coming back.

He knew the woman was wounded, so she should be easy to catch. Jensen had winged her. Of course, he hadn’t seen Jensen since before the sun went down. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to split up. Oh, well…

He moved up to the ridge, scanning every which way for his targets. Nothing up here. Maybe they headed for the road. If he brought ‘em back himself he’d look real good to the boss. He started moving toward the road three kilometers off to the left and below him.

Watson prowled along the path toward the road. So far, nothing. He didn’t think they could’ve got down the hill that fast. They couldn’t have doubled back, he’d have seen ‘em. Maybe they – wait! What’s that? Moving between two bushes thirty meters in front of him he could just see something that looked like the dress-thing the woman was wearing. Watson crept toward his quarry, as quickly and quietly as he could manage. It didn’t seem to be moving too quickly, so he guessed that he was quiet enough. Quiet, now. He slinked to within ten feet of whatever it was. It stopped. Now or never, he decided. He leapt forward, grabbing for the individual in front of him. It turned, grabbed his left arm, at the wrist and elbow, and flung him past it to land on his stomach. He twisted around to see a man in the dress-thing. “That’s not nice”, Gerrin chided him.

Watson recovered from his surprise and swung at Gerrin. Gerrin blocked and punched toward Watson’s stomach. Watson caught the blow and knocked Gerrin’s fist away, swinging with his other fist toward Gerrin’s temple. Gerrin blocked and swung completely around, bringing his foot up and across Watson’s face. The kick was enough to knock Watson to the ground unconscious. Gerrin stepped back, panting. As he regained his breath Reilly came down the hill carrying a sm