Lorelei sat strumming her guitar, tweaking the tuning as she thought about lyrics for a new song. A small fire burned in the kitchen hearth. At the table, Katilynn peeled back the skin around Gus's belly and began the meticulous disassembly of her robot.

Dinner was excellent. Taro flour pan fried naan like flat bread which accompanied succulent lobster, clam chowder with some of the strangest vegetables, and a selection of crabs she'd never seen in a fish market. Delicious. Mango juice, papaya, and guava juice made a uniquely flavored punch. Jonathon used some of her trail mix to put a little crunch into a mixture of dates, and coconut sorting the chocolate out of it, winking at her as he put it into one of the empty jerky bags. A memorable meal.

Lorelei wanted the recipe for the flat bread, and to learn how to make taro flour from scratch.

Their skilled chef promised a morning fajita made from bird eggs they collected whenever Katilynn found a nest in the jungle. On the counter beside a small refrigerator, the satellite phone, her cell phone, and Taron's sat charging.

She listened with half an ear, as Johnathon and Taron discussed their dead stick landings. They sounded eerily similar, right down to the holes and the crumbling plug material. She thanked her lucky stars for his skill with a no engine landing.

"We've got around twenty minutes until I promised to call Sparky back with more info tonight," Taron told Katilynn's grandfather.

"Leave the phone plugged in and use the speaker feature if you have it," the old man suggested as he stroked his long white beard. Taron nodded in agreement and Johnathon continued, "We can talk as a group that way, and I can explain what Gerald's usual approach to the island is. I think there might be a problem. My son comes fully armed with his personal security. Paranoid. There's only a few monkeys on this island. A couple pairs of harpy eagles, a peregrine falcon, and several red tailed hawks for birds of prey. They are the apex predators here. We're very lucky to have no snakes."

"How likely is he to use the firearms?" Lorelei asked.

"I don't know. He's never threatened either of us," Katilynn answered. "He has zoophobia. From dogs to birds and even the monkeys, it's pathetic and I'd laugh if it wasn't so sad."

"Truly a city boy then," Taron said.

"Even there he's uncomfortable when pigeons turn up in a park," Johnathon said. "We were never able to help him get over it, even though several therapists tried."

"Good to know. He might take a shot at whatever is moving in the forest, but threats to us aren't an issue, hopefully." Taron moved over to the counter where the Iridium 9555 phone was charging. "Almost time."

The phone rang, and he snatched it up. Pushing the button to answer it, he said, "Hello. I though I was supposed to call you."

Listening for a moment, he answered, "Got it. I'm setting you up on speaker Sparks. We need to discuss the developments here. You and Mooch can't come in blind."

Introductions were made, as Katilynn finished with the last screw and eased Gus apart at the waist. "Holy hell. This isn't good."

Mooch asked, "What's wrong?"

"My robot project. It's a long story. I recognize these components. Ibran has been in here, and this is a problem. There's a timer, a clock, and a vial of something attached to the battery. I recognize his work. He was always into precise timing circuitry. I had no idea why. He was on a student visa from the middle east. I never liked him. How did he get hold of Gus? I don't care, but I do care that he's weaponized him."

"How much time on the device?" Sparks' crisp question stopped Katilynn's disgusted commentary. "We have to report this to command. This isn't a weekend jaunt anymore."

"It seems to have over one hundred hours left on it. Why so long Ibran?" The question was muttered under Katilynn's breath.

"Ibran, what was his last name?" Mooch asked,

"Ayad. I think he came from Syria." Katilynn responded. "He was a year behind me through the degree program, and got a job working in the lab as part of his EIT to qualify for his final license. I have no idea if he's even legally in the U.S. anymore. It's been over three years since I last saw him."

They heard a swift discussion and Mooch left the room to make the phone call to command.

Johnathon gave Sparks the coordinates for the dock hidden on the other side of the volcano. Tucked in a small fjord rimmed by steep lava cliffs, it was well protected from weather and view from ocean going traffic. A quick run down of the other speed boat traffic noted by Katilynn confirmed their conclusion of drug runners moving contraband.

Mooch rejoined the conversation. "We'll be bringing more of the team with us. Katilynn, our apologies for meddling with your robot. Gus was headed to the middle east to smuggle a virus into a terrorist training compound. Protect him at all costs. He's an exact duplicate of your original number thirteen, right down to the serial number. He cries automatically when he gets below a certain temperature to preserve the contents of the vial. I trust you understand the need to keep this between us."

"I have clearances, but I'm pretty sure Grandpa, Lorelei, and Taron understand this is important and not to be shared." Katilynn's eyes pierced those around her as she got nods from each of them.

A chorus of yesses confirmed their cooperation.

"He's got just under one hundred hours left on his timer. Can you get him where he's supposed to be going?" Jonathon asked, from where he peered over his granddaughter's shoulder.

"We can. With the F35 at our disposal to make the flight, we should be able to catch up to Ibran. You can draw whatever conclusions you like about him, but he is considered an asset by us. He reported Gus missing just over fifty-six hours ago."

"I knew there something fishy about that man," Katilynn declared. "Is my research safe?"

"The Department of Defence has all your notes and earlier prototypes in storage. Brilliant work, by the way." Sparks sounded extremely impressed.

"I always knew there was a possibility the military would find uses for Gus I never dreamed of. I guess I can't complain. Just get out here safely and get him where he's going. There's no way to disarm him that I could see." The fiery red head shook her head in disbelief.

"Yes ma'am." Mooch sounded more amused than worried.

Conversation continued for another hour as details were discussed on how to deal with all possible contingencies the next day. Katilynn and Johnathon confirmed the probable arrival of Gerald in the early afternoon of the next day. Which mode of transportation he would use was up for debate. He cruised over in a small yacht, or flew in. Either a helicopter or small twin turbo prop were possibilities.

"So, it's agreed. You're moving the rescue up to tomorrow?" Taron asked to confirm.

"We're on the boat now. Just idling while we talk. Ditch is itching to get moving again," Mooch replied. "Should be there mid morning."

Taron agreed to keep the sat phone close to him and contact Sparks as soon as they knew which one turned up. Shortly after, they ended the call.

"Are you still up for a little music?" Lorelei asked.

"Yes, please!" Katilynn was putting Gus back together. "What a mixed up mess. I wonder how my little robot ended up in the limo. Someone who shouldn't have known about him, obviously did."

"Let Mooch, Sparks and their team figure that one out. I have no doubt they will." Taron assured her.

Lorelei strummed the opening chords to Let Me Dream, and Johnathon smiled as he spoke. "Your first hit. My wife and I danced to it at our silver anniversary party."

"My mother used to sing along to it before things went sour," Katilynn admitted.

"Let's make some new memories now and bring back the good ones. It's why I love to sing." Lorelei began with the chorus.