When the two members ICRA's came into the camp, it was almost a relief.

Snake and Lara had been back for a few hours. Lara's internal clock was justified when Snake had produced a timepiece that had survived their descent, a Seiko on his wrist that looked as nondescript as it was sturdy. She'd estimated they had touched down around five, and gotten back to camp around seven, so it was almost nine thirty about the time they heard the underbrush moving on its own accord.

The fire had begun earnestly, off to one side of the stream and in a plot of the sand-strewn turf in a little circular cairn comprised of dry branches and underbrush. Snake had offered a makeshift flint and steel, Lara had already taken care of it, with the admiration of both men. It was big enough to keep them warm, but not large enough that it might overrun their circle of round stones and turn into a brushfire if unattended. It had been a long time, over ten years, since she had needed to make fire without real implements, but it wasn't a skill that had faded with time any.

At the time, Otacon was swatting at his arms, Snake smoking like a chimney, and with Lara generally disinterested in trying to deter the mosquitoes. "Are the two of you going to be alright?"

"Yeah, if I have any blood left by the time we can get indoors. Jeez, I'm covered in bites." Otacon had been dividing his time between slapping his forearms and shifting with discomfort, cross-legged, on the ground.

"Here. Try this." Snake held out his cigarette, newly lit, after taking a thick inhalation of it.

Otacon looked at him, then the white stick, with skepticism. Lara kept quiet.

When Otacon began to cough after barely placing it to his lips, then tossed it in the fire, Lara burst out laughing.

"Son of a-"

"You smoke those? God, Snake, I can't even-"

"In the service, popular knowledge is that tobacco smoking has some minor ability to repel mosquitoes and other bugs."

"Well," Otacon said, waving a hand in front of his face, "popular knowledge also had it that the earth was flat. Those mosquito coil things are even worse, actually, and –"

It was then that, behind them, branches and leaves shifted. Fallen bark crackled.

Lara held up her hand. The two men silenced immediately.

Snake looked at Lara, tapped the empty holster on one hip. She nodded, patted the pistols strapped to hers. She'd almost forgotten they were there, having no cause to adjust or use them. She tossed one to Snake, who immediately checked its clip and turned off its safety.

They both stood, and Lara took point in from of Snake, and behind him, Otacon was on his feat, looking determined if uncertain. Snake held his pistol at the ready, both hands, aimed to the ground but in a combat stance.

"If they're here to ambush us, I think they're doing a rather poor job of it," she muttered over one shoulder. "You there! Come out, and show yourselves!" Lara paused for a minute, considered carefully, and repeated herself in Portugese, and Spanish.

From the jungle's innards, wading out of shadows, came hurried murmuring, then a female, American voice. "Please, we're just relief workers! We're not armed, we're coming out!"

First from the jungle was a young woman, maybe twenty five, in khaki shorts and a thin, beaten headband holding back blond hair. After her was a larger man, wiry in his musculature, and as deeply tanned as the woman to the point it was clear they'd been in the country for a long time. Both Anglo, they had bronzed themselves well beyond Lara's year-round tan.

Both traipsed out clumsily, arms raised, although the man looked much more irritated. They had only canvass messenger bags hung from their waists, with a crested shield emblem that was faded into the central flap.

It was Snake who was quickest to put down his gun, flipping on the safety and holstering it, but not handing it back when Lara held out her hand. He peered beyond them, into the flickering light created by the fire. "Are you two alone?"

"Yes," the man said, with a slight Australian fade, " we're here because of the plane, we—"

Otacon moved to stand beside Lara, who had put down her gun. They lowered their arms. "Were you two at the plane?" Otacon asked.

"Yes, we weren't sure if anyone had survived the crash. We've been following the debris left from when its cargo was jettisoned." The man looked ill-at-ease, but slightly calmed now that firearms had been put away.

Lara turned away. "So, you didn't find anyone."

The woman shook her head. "No." And then, on the heels of this. "It would have been quick. I'm sorry. We didn't have the tools to put them to rest, but we didn't leave them where they were."

Out of the corner of her eye, Lara thought she caught Snake grit his teeth, close his eyes. It was not a sensation alien to her. Otacon ran a hand through his hair, and swore.

"I wish we were opening with better news to deliver," the blonde said. She extended her hand to Lara. "I'm Ellie Quint. This is Malcolm Vines."

"Wish it was under better weather, right. Thank you for doing what you could." There was a hesitation, and then she decided there would be no point hiding her own identity. "Lara Croft."

"We know," she replied. "Vines and I heard about your expedition, years ago. And, of course, there's been everything since. You're very brave."

She felt her gut tighten. "You mean the shipwreck."

"Are your friends famous too?" Ellie said.

Otacon held his hand out to her, shook, and repeated the gesture with Vines. "Hal Danziger."

Snake turned and followed Otacon's lead. He had satisfied himself they were alone. "Iroquois Plissken."

Vines looked at Snake skeptically, but didn't remark on it.

Lara brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "We were actually headed into La Paz when this happened. We were shot down, but not certain by whom, and we haven't gotten to recover any communications equipment."

"You guys are relief workers?" Snake asked, and pointed to the emblem on their packs. "Who's your organisation?"

"We're with the International Corps for Relief and Aid."

"The ICRA?" Lara asked. "You blokes abstained from commentary on the war, right?"

"Which one?" Vines asked.

"All of them," Snake said, producing another cigarette. "Holds together diplomatic efforts, but I bet it keeps your hands clean, too doesn't it?"

Both Ellie and Vines seemed drastically uncomfortable, and Lara felt little pity. It was a mercy that Otacon was perhaps more forgiving, stating "We appreciate you guys being here, but why are you both here?"

Ellie nodded, flicking curls out of her hair. "We try to patch up whomever we can. There's a lot of rural guerillas out here. Farmers, mostly. The loss of human life is a tragedy, no matter who dies. "

On that, the five of them seemed to agree.

Vines said, "And we're here because of the rebellion."

"You mean the embassy?"

Snake took to a crouching position by the fire. Ellie did likewise, and the rest followed suit. It was Ellie who replied. "No. The embassy attack isn't the first, or the last, attack Bolivia's going to see."

"What do you mean?"

Ellie and Vines exchanged looks.

"There's a group in the jungle who've been putting something together for eight months, give or take. They're determined to overthrow the entirety of the government, oust the whites in power. They're intent on a bloody massacre. It's what they want."

Lara shook her head, trying to ignore the bugs. "I don't follow."

After a moment, Vines stared into the fire.

"They're building a weapon to unify the entirety of the South American continent. And they're calling it, La Paz Caminante."

Snake looked up. When he spoke, he sounded reverent. And, somehow, maybe even scared.

"'The Peace Walker.'"