Tasìa leaned against the passenger side door on their drive to the site.

El Hoyo was a dozen miles outside of Villa Marròn. Tasìa had often accompanied Sachmilli Cuervo to the site when he inspected his rental equipment.

It was more of a canyon that sprawled out like a twisted maze for three square miles than a pit. There were, however, several sizable gravel dig sites scattered about El Hoyo. Walls of red and pink clay surrounded the dig sites with isolated mesas looming ominously overhead.

She would often take hikes around the little canyon as Sachmilli tended to his business dealings.

It had been one of her most cherished places in all of her travels in the Quadra and it reminded her, in a small way, of the one place outside of Paraguay she had ever dreamed of living - Arizona with its Grand Canyon.

Evidently, from what she was being told by the locals that evening, El Hoyo had changed, quite drastically.

Tasìa wanted to ask Annebél about what she should expect when they got to the site.

Annebél drove with her hands on the wheel in a white knuckled clutch. She clenched her teeth, tight and worrisome. Her eyes darted between the car mirrors.

A brawler, not a natural criminal capable of a state of emotional aplomb while engaged in possibly nefarious activity.

So Tasìa assessed with a professional detachment as if she was already sizing the brawler up for her potential role in a new crew.

Tasìa raised her voice, to get the tall redhead's attention.

"Hey, Annebél," Tasia began to ask, "what . . ."

Tasìa was startled by the gentle clinch of a hand on her shoulder. However, the touch felt nice as a thumb rubbed against the sore muscles along the blade.

"Wake up, mon petit démon, we're there."

Tasìa jostled up. She had fallen asleep. It felt like she was unconscious for a more substantial bit of time than just the few minutes it should have taken to get to El Hoyo.

"Mi Sagrada María," Tasìa muttered to herself the name of the Sacréd Virgin. She then turned to Annebél. "Just how long was I knocked out?"

Appearing unflappable and serene now, Annebél grinned. However, she also seemed reluctant to explain herself.

"A little more than an hour. I didn't want to disturb you. I decided to do a little preemptive reconnaissance."

Tasìa shook her head and she made her best squinty face frown.

"Annebél, just what do you mean by that?"

Effecting an air of mystery expressed with nothing more than an arched brow, Annebél answered with, "you'll see."

Tasìa shook her head. When skulduggery was involved, it only made sense to keep the little thief involved in any decision-making process.

But, Tasìa let it go. More than anything else at that moment, she needed a kick to the head. She grabbed the last bottle of Ki-Jack Ginseng Elixir and she twisted the cap off.

Quaffed straight down her throat, it felt like a great heat flushing through her body. With her pulse raised, Tasìa was now ready for anything.

She opened the door and sprung up to gawk at the sights, very much curious to discover her surroundings.

In the silvery moonlight, El Hoyo made an impression. Tall cranes etched the skyline. Much like the cranes and rows of mining equipment did at the backlot of the Marejada office park, except these machines were covered in vines and green leaves.

The scent of kudzu and hemp roamed the surrounding breeze.

Fifty yards away, and to Tasìa's left, she could make out the shape of a massive crawler tractor on its side beneath a hill composed of loose, weed-covered gravel.

On top of the hill, four drills, each thirty foot long and well-girthed, pointed in cross beam fashion at the sky. They appeared set in place as a warning.

But a warning to whom?

Tasìa turned to Annebél with her mouth gaped open before she could speak.

"Did I ask you in the car . . ."

Annebél shook her head with a chuckle.

"No, I have no idea what you were going to ask. You fell asleep in mid-sentence."

Tasìa leaned against the car and gaped at the changes all around her.

"What happened here," she asked. "It appears like one of those islands in the South Pacific where battlefields of equipment got covered over by the jungle."

As she planted her butt down on the car hood, Annebél swept her hands to the Northwest. There was a ridgeline of mountains there whose view was blocked by El Hoyo's canyon walls.

"First came the guerillas. Something that happened up there frightened them out of their camps. About four dozen of them, appearing emaciated and crazy-eyed, marched into El Hoyo. They attacked the worksite. Shooting everyone they could and blowing shit up.

"Within hours, the company responded with attack helicopters and mercs. The commandos drove the guerillas down to the far canyon where they managed to hunker down and create a stand-off.

"This went on for two weeks. To minimize casualties, the company had planned to starve them out. But then the ascospores came. Weird, giant ones made of anomalous and organic metal that dripped yellow puss.

"They came bouncing down from the mountains to bombard the far canyon, like they were hunter-drones seeking the guerillas out.

"Ever since then, the work crews have been dedicated to containing the invasive species in a daily grind of machetes, herbicides and dynamite."

Tasìa gave a long whistle.

"Damn. Have they tried napalm?"

Annebél laughed as she sat beside her. She gave Tasìa a friendly elbow to the ribs.

"The Salvage won't let them."

"You're shitting me," Tasìa gasped.

Annebél shook her head. Her arms folded together, tightly.

"Nope. The company lobbied to have the invasive species cleansed but the Salvage promised massive legal retaliation if they went through with it."

"Senseless," Tasìa muttered.

She stared at the ground. The weeds and berry vines crawled slowly towards her as she watched.

What are they feeding off of? She wondered. There was indeed a high concentration of nitrates in this soil, but no normal underlying chemistry could cause growth to spread anywhere close to that rapidly. In the middle of the night with no sunlight for photosynthesis at that!

Annebél jerked up off the hood with a shake of her butt. Tasìa had to steady herself in response.

"Come on," Annebél said. "Let's go wake my boyfriend, Raúl, up. You'll like him. He is very easy going and charismatic."

With some envy and admiration, Tasìa watched her walk away. The tall redhead was the same height as Felicité, but where the Argentinian was thin figured, Annebél was muscular and mesomorphic in shape.

Her bottom had not an ounce of fat on it, but it was quite ample.

She has that kind of voluptuous figure they use to paint on the sides of bomber planes.

Tasìa thought as she scurried to catch up.