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through a backpack someone had left open on the cot, Annja made her move. Slipping through the hole in the back of the tent she headed directly toward the soldier's unprotected back.

She had almost reached his side when he straightened and turned. Seeing her, his eyes opened wide in fear.

"¡Madre de Dios!" he whispered, frozen in place.

Annja could only imagine what she looked like to him with her hair, face and body covered in drying muck, and a sword almost as long as she was grasped in one hand, like some vengeful spirit come back from the grave to right some ancient wrong. She didn't give him a chance to make sense of what he was seeing, either, but rather jammed the point of her sword up under his chin and held a finger to her lips to indicate he should be silent.

"Give me your gun," she said in Spanish.

Stiff with fear, he complied.

"How many others are there?" she asked.

His voice trembled as he said, "Five plus the captain."

That meant she'd already taken care of the captain's only companion, since she'd counted four men looting the tents.

Too bad for them that the odds were in her favor.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

The soldier shrugged.

Annja pushed the sword blade a bit harder and a thin trickle of blood ran down the man's neck in response. "Don't mess with me," she told him. "What are you here for?"

The soldier explained that they had stumbled upon the excavation while fleeing from the police. With no money and a need to resupply themselves with both food and ammunition, the captain decided that a quick raid was in order. If they discovered that the excavation had yielded gold or other precious artifacts, so much the better.

She could hear the other soldiers laughing nearby and knew she didn't have much time left. She was going to have to act and hope for the best.

"Give me your shirt and hat," she told her captive.

Once he had, she made him turn around and then struck him hard on the head with the butt of his own weapon.

Two down, four to go.

Releasing the sword back into the otherwhere, she pulled his shirt on over her own muddy T-shirt and shoved her hair up under the hat. The shirt was bulky and hung down to midthigh, which should help hide her shape and size from casual view. She only needed to pass for the other man for a few moments, just until she was close enough to carry out her plan. In the dark, and with the soldiers feeling secure that they were not in any danger, it just might work.

She left the man lying there unconscious and stepped out of the tent, the soldier's rifle slung over her shoulder and the hat pulled down low over her face.

The other soldiers were several tents away, a long stretch of darkness between them and her. They saw her emerge from the tent, but didn't think anything of it, her disguise apparently good enough at this distance to keep them from noticing anything was wrong.

The one in the middle turned to her, shouted for her to hurry up and gave a "come on" gesture with one hand.

Annja grunted something indistinguishable, waved to show she'd heard him and then held her breath.

This was the moment of truth. If they were going to notice something was wrong, it would most likely be now, while their attention was on her and they were addressing her directly.

The soldier hesitated.

Annja tensed.

The soldier turned back to his companions, apparently satisfied with her response.

They waited for her there in the center of the camp's main thoroughfare as she approached. The men laughed and joked among themselves, their attention on one another and not on her.

It proved to be a fatal mistake.

She considered simply gunning them down where they stood as she moved closer; after all, they'd certainly killed Arturo and probably several others at this point, as well. She didn't owe them anything. But the sound would easily carry across the camp and she wasn't ready yet to let the captain know that his pack of hired guns had been taken out of the equation.