I suddenly realize it is a police chopper, my initial fright turns to frustration and I wonder why I didn't check local ordinances regarding campfires.

The helicopter lowers a metal ladder and a rope. An officer slides down the rope while the searchlight has been switched on and is lighting the dust and debris kicked up by the chopper blades. Now that I'm paying attention I see it is a standard Robinson R44 police helicopter.

I trigger my receiver and let the audio feed to Tech7 down at base camp. I don't want to tell this guy why I am here or which agency I work for and so just play the stunned camper bit.

"We don't get too many hikers up here, but your campfire is strictly prohibited. With the dry season almost upon us, you could've burnt down half the mountain and more with your campfire."

"I'm sorry officer. I put it out with dirt and kept an eye on it. I wasn't aware fires were prohibited."

"Ignorance is no excuse. I'm afraid I'm going to have to cite you."

From the officer's radio the usual dispatcher-officer chattering. But I suddenly hear a familiar female voice interrupt.

"Sheriff Air unit we have a code 3 that requires immediate attention. Broadcasting location now: Suspect vehicle traveling northbound on highway 56, in excess of a hundred miles per hour, and has just past route 93. Suspect is in white flat bed truck. Suspect is male hispanic, fleeing liquor store robbery north of Kingman. Suspect armed and dangerous. Please advise when you have suspect vehicle under observation. Kingman Black & whites have requested termination of long pursuit due to unfamiliarity with the area. Highway Patrol is also engaged in code 3 and 1 air unit needs to break off in ten minutes due to fuel issues."

"Barney get back up here. We have a code 3 to respond to!"

"Jeez. Tonight's your lucky night, pal. Don't do it again!"

The officer climbs the ladder briskly and I watch as they hoist both ladder and rope and fly off at an aggressive angle.

Tech7's Falcon II AN/PRC-850-D HF csop radio unit comes in handy.

My earpiece activates.

"I saved your butt...yet again. Over."

"Perhaps. Once they realize it is a wild goose chase they will be twice as angry, and I better not be here when they return. Over."

"Picky. Picky. 'Thank you' would have been a welcome change of pace. Over."

"Oh. Ok. Thank you Tech7. I'll be back at BC with an ETA of seven minutes. Have the motor running. Over."

"Will do. Now, excuse me, I have to give some more instructions to the inquiring minds excitedly heading north in a police chopper..so they don't turn back just yet. Over."

I grab my gear, put on some nightvision goggles from out of my knapsack and head down the mountain double time. I know Tech7's Harris made Falcon II csop edition will override and jam selective broadcasting frequencies for about twenty miles in any direction, but after that the real dispatchers will get through. By that time we need to be out of here.

The mission is effectively aborted for tonight and the forseeable future. Tech7's assistance will insure that the local law enforcement will be agitated for the next week or two and hikers will be scrutinized. I know I shouldn't be angry with her, she was just trying to save me an exorbitant fine and hassle. But it's been this way recently with her. She helps and complicates things unintentionally. I'd almost think she does it on purpose to spite me, but that's probably just me projecting my own emotions on the issue.

I scrape my arm on a branch as I jump across some rock outcroppings. The branch amazingly slices right through my jacket and has gouged my arm. It hurts, but I keep on running.

I can feel the blood trickle down my arm, mixed with sweat. My mood takes a turn for the worse. I try to use the 'mirror principle' as I curse out in my mind the local sheriff, Tech7 and this aborted mission. I realize they were just doing their jobs. I was the one who failed to not the campfire prohibition for this region. I was in the wrong. I brought all this on myself and the only one I can blame is me.

For some reason I don't yet feel better, but at least I no longer blame the others. I spot the Hummer HE and Tech7 has the motor running. I climb in and see Tech7 smiling at me with that 'cat that ate the canary' look.

"What's up."

"Oh nothing."

"Yeah, right. What's with the smile?"

"Can't a girl smile? What's it to you?"

"Ok. Play it that way. Just drive. I need to dress a wound."

I take off the gear, remove my goggles, glasses and jacket. The blood has soaked through and ruined a perfectly fine shirt. The wound is three inches long and is just deep enough to bleed without easy coagulation.

I open the first aid field kit from under the dash and grab out some Isopryl rubbing alcohol and some styptic powder. I drench the wound in alcohol and then rub in the styptic powder and wince as the titanium dioxide contracts the blood vessels, stemming the flow of blood.

"How'd you score that little memento?"

"Tree branch. I was careless."

"It was dark." she adds.

"I was careless."

"Ok. You were careless. Well you'll be happy to know that we have a bit more time."

"How's that?"

"There really was a code 3. I didn't make any of that stuff up. I was monitoring the various bands and used a real emergency to call them off to. Their only question will be whose dispatcher requested their assistance. In such a situation, it will never arouse more than a small question mark and be unimportant after they aid in the apprehension."

I smile. She did know what she was doing and the mission doesn't really need to be aborted.

"Admit it. You're pleased. You thought I screwed up and got you into more trouble than I spared you from."

She has me. She knew exactly what I was thinking.

"So my poor baby, how's your wound doing?"

I look and see the blood flow has stopped. I dress the wound with a little gauze and some tape. "I'm fine. It's just an annoying scratch."

"So did you see anything?"

"No. But, I did feel something. THere is something strange about this mountain. I just can't put my finger on it."

"I know what you mean. It's strange, the area somehow feels 'older' than other remote areas, sort of a 'Jurassic Park' of the desert."

I don't know if she's jesting with me or not, I look over at her and she seems to be sincere. I forget how much I enjoy watching her drive. She continues, "The locals said they saw 'clouds of light' and 'ghosts in the sky'. Do you suppose they were just hallucinating?"

"No, I think they saw something. The $64,000 dollar question is what?"

Suddenly I feel the strangest sensation. It's a peaceful sensation, and is definitely unearthly. I look over at Tech7 and see she feels it as well just by looking at her profile and features.

"What is that?" she says.

"I don't know. I suspect there is some immense field of intelligent energy here. It's influencing our thoughts, and I tink it's actually reaching out to us. I felt this way once when we were in pursuit of a OFC"

"It's like a 'happy ray' isn't it?"

"Yes, it is, isn't it. But it's more than that. It's a field that somehow negates lower emotions. It inhibits lower functions and enables higher thought. We must be close to whatever it is, why don't you pull over on the shoulder. Let's take a look around."

Tech7 pulls over and I put on another jacket. I feel the unearthly feel even stronger, yet fear is completely impossible. Only curiousity and concern remain.

Suddenly I see it. I realize Tech7 sees it too.

A shiny silvery disc sits in a clearing in the underbrush. I realize immediately we have been guided here....

(To be continued!)

(Ok...that ought to make everyone happy for now...if not tough!)

;-)