Defender(23)

"Understood," Morgan replied with a nod. It was too difficult to hear much with all the noise from the tarmac. "So, where to from here?"

"Well, we've just got one more passenger to collect and then ..." Fredericks became distracted, and his eyes moved beyond Morgan, back towards the aircraft. "That's got to be her. I sure hope so, anyway. Jesus, she's gorgeous!"

Arena Halls was stepping away from the cargo pellet with one of the young local boys shouldering her bulging, brightly coloured field pack. It looked new. Morgan had noticed her on the plane, but as she'd been sitting well forward of him, he hadn't had much of a chance to actually see her. Halls was about 5 feet 6 or 7 inches, he thought. She was clearly fit yet refreshingly curvy, and moved with confidence and purpose. Her hair was a dusty blonde and fell to her shoulders in a very natural, unpretentious style. She wore what appeared to be good quality, well-worn hiking boots, a pair of tight-fitting beige cargo pants and a loose-fitting off-white military-style shirt with sleeves rolled halfway along tanned forearms. It was unbuttoned almost to the waist, with a khaki singlet stretched tightly across the swell of her breasts, tucked into a thick, brown leather belt. Dressed for Africa by Ralph Lauren, he thought. As she moved closer to them, Morgan could see that her eyes were the most mesmerising sky blue.

Fredericks was right. Definitely gorgeous.

"You must be Michael?" she began, and shook Fredericks' hand.

"Call me Mike." Fredericks was almost tripping over himself, Morgan noted with a smile. Couldn't blame him. "Welcome to Malfajiri, Miss Halls. This is our evacuation expert just in from London, too. Alex Morgan."

"Hello. Saw you on the plane." She moved in close to him and, looking up into his eyes, offered her hand. Morgan closed a strong hand around hers and she found his sudden proximity to have an unexpectedly primal effect. But there was definitely a level of arrogance there, she thought. Or was it absolute self-assuredness? Despite herself, her guard came up. 'Tm here with the ICRC, the Red Cross. Everybody calls me Ari."

"Hello, Ari. Alex Morgan. Pleased to meet you."

'Tm sorry to keep you both waiting. First on - last off scenario, I'm afraid. Noisy flight, too. Those hearing protection thingummys didn't help at all."

"The joys of flying by Herc," said Morgan as Arena finally released his hand.

"Wonderful, and don't ask me about the dreams I was having,'' she added, almost to herself. "Most distressing."

"You taking an anti-malarial?" Morgan asked mechanically. "Well, yes. Yes, I am. It's 'M' something?"

"Mefloquine?" offered Fredericks. When she nodded, he said, "Makes sense. It affects people differently - anxiety,,hallucinations and so on. Don't worry, we'll fix you up with something else from the medicine cabinet,'' he smiled mischievously.

Fredericks returned Morgan's pack to him with a wink, and relieved the young boy of Ari's gear, leading them both towards the far end of the tarmac. Ari thanked the boy, who looked like he didn't want to leave her, but eventually ran back to his duties with the other boys unloading the plane.

"Well, I'd like to welcome you both properly over a beer, but the Cullentown pub's not exactly what you'd call foreigner-friendly right now," Fredericks said in good humour, raising his voice over the howl of competing aircraft engines. "Best we go straight to the mine site at Pallarup. That Puma over there's ours."

Fredericks pointed to the dark green profile of a large military-spec helicopter with rotors whirling, ready to fly on the far edge of the tarmac. Both Halls and Morgan nodded in response. A tough-looking loadmaster with 'Johnny' stenciled above the right breast pocket of his faded khaki flight suit, stood by the open starboard side door, beckoning them over. He was tall and looked strong as an ox, and when he took hold of Halls' and Morgan's field packs, he hurled them into the rear cargo hold with ease.

As Fredericks clambered into the cockpit beside the pilot, Morgan noted Halls looking a little uncertain.

"First time?" he asked. "War zone or helicopter?" "Seriously."

"Both, actually. I've worked in disaster relief and with refugees mainly - after the fact, if that makes sense. Not really used to the whole 'life in peril' thing yet," she replied with a nervous smile, wondering if he was judging her. "Was Mike serious about the hallucinations?"

"Yeah, but don't worry. You'll be fine," Morgan said confidently, while he wondered what her real story was. No doubt he'd find out soon enough. Why would the Red Cross send a basically inexperienced person out here at a time like this? "Remember: never proceed in fear, and everything will take care of itself," he quipped.