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"Yeah, okay." Maz was a little overwhelmed by the amount of people who wanted to search for firewood--it was such a mundane task, after all. Which is exactly why they might want to do it, she mused. It would take their minds off of things. She quickly regained her bearings, her voice not...

Maz set her carry-on down as she examined the cave, overall satisfied with the choice. She didn't think of herself as the most rugged, kill-it, skin-it wilderness survival woman, but she wasn't a thin-wristed city girl who sat around buffing her nails all day, either. She could spend the night...

Maz hadn't heard a thing Ava had said, but she made up for it by being more attentive; glancing at the wound as it was uncovered. Looking around at the rest of the group, she added, "I can collect firewood and I'll take a look at everyone's injuries when we get settled in. Check for concussions...

Maz took a bottle of water and a few slices of fruit. She didn't trust herself to eat anything more, unsure of her body's ability to process it, but she was thirsty and had to keep her blood sugar up. She watched as Ava pad off, Faraji not far behind. She turned away to give them some privacy...

"Mayday. This is..." Maz looked around, trying to find the plane's identification. It was located above the yoke. "Cessna Citation NS84. We are down--I repeat, we are down." There was nothing, not even static. She turned the frequency knob back and forth, trying to raise some signs of life from...

Overall, the cockpit of the plane looked surprisingly intact. Despite the vulnerability of its position, it seemed to absorb the impact of the crash better than the cabin had. A few loose items had been tossed around, Maz noted. Gauges in the instrument panel were cracked and most of the glass...

"I saw a man leave the plane. There may be--oh, here they come now." Maz nodded in the direction of the two survivors coming back towards the cabin. Taking one quick glance at the other two she was with, making sure they would be alright, she started picking her way across the wreckage. The two...

Maz turned her head toward the front of the cabin, where she could finally see to whom the voices belonged to. A tall, dark-skinned woman was helping an Asian person out of a crevice, and she could see a young man exit the plane. Two other male figures registered in her view. Her right arm...

The plane lay on its side, mangled and twisted on the rocky lip of the mountainside where it had come to rest. The gaping hole that had been the right side of the cabin now opened toward the sky, allowing the early afternoon sun to beat down upon the exposed interior. Perched as it was, the...

She hated being afraid. Hated it with a passion. The anxiety of knowing that everything--even her own safety--was too far out of her own hands. It made her feel small and vulnerable--characteristics she'd profaned even as a child. She had always preferred to be in control, always chose to take...

Gail flushed at the subtle reprimand, and she subconsciously straightened her posture. She meekly listened to "Hiroshi's" advice as they exited the station and made their way towards the rental car. She had packed her luggage in the trunk with her partner's, and she remembered they had adjoining...

Gail's face lightened when she saw her partner. She took in what he was wearing when she noticed he was doing the same to her. He certainly didn't look like a detective, which happened to be the goal of the evening. And she certainly bore no resemblance to Gail Felan, but was the spitting image...

Gail loathed gambling. She was having a mental allergic reaction to the entire concept of Hotel Sunset Lake, the "Hotel" part really only being an excuse to have slot machines in the lobby. It was the gaudiest, most Vegas-esque establishment east of Nevada, so naturally it had to be Margianno's...

"Understood," Felan echoed. She had been programmed since learning to speak to answer with "yes, sir" but it didn't feel right to say it to Cunningham. She was the subordinate, technically, but he was still an officer, and they both had to sign the field reports. Which she was probably stuck...

"Right," Gail said affirmatively. Their fake IDs, passports, and other papers had been provided in the files, though she felt like the kind of work Don was involved in didn't require names, only efficiency. She flipped a page, then continued, "and it looks like we'll be meeting them in..." she...

Dana shook her head. "I'm a doctor, that won't be necessary." She slurred her words, but she was almost home. Food would have to wait, she couldn't be drunk in public. She turned to leave. "Sorry to bother you."

Gail nodded as she read from her own file, which she also placed on the desk. Margianno was a pit bull of a man--and could certainly have the temper of one, judging by how many "accidents" to people that have resulted after his investments didn't meet his expectations. "Three men, convicted of...

The pain fading to a all ache, Dana hoisted herself onto her feet, content that she was able to put weight on the leg. The pain had sobered her up slightly and she continued down the street with a hand to the wall. She thought she heard voices, and being a sensible modern woman who can't outrun...

Gail looked up at the man as he said her name, and she smiled politely, reaching out her hand for him to shake. "Yes, I'm Officer Felan, I've been assigned to work with you," she answered, somehow certain this was her new partner, though it could have been anyone in the office. There was no...

Officer Gail Felan's bulletproof boots squeaked as she entered the hallway from the briefing room, the reinforced nylon not quite broken in. She had been given her first assignment and partner--someone her field training officer did not name but said their office would be down the hall and to...