One more step. And another. Another.

The words repeated in her head as she ran through the jungle in what she hoped was the direction of the hidden temple of Emirius. She had needed to use alternative means to find the temple after her rival, Houghton, had stolen the scroll with the clues on it. She had also stolen Nigel.

Sydney's focus was always on the relic, getting to it, making sure it went to the right people to be celebrated and admired and not just sold on the black market for profit to sit in the basement in some rich person's personal collection. This time though, Sydney's thoughts were entirely on her assistant.

Sydney stumbled over a tree root but quickly regained her footing and kept running.

Houghton had a nasty reputation, even among the most cutthroat of relic hunters. That she was happy to let others do the work and then take the credit was the least of her issues. She was known for mercilessly making sure that she came out the victor and with the credit, to the point where she was wanted on assault and murder charges in multiple countries, and as a person of interest in several missing persons cases. Her victims often came out of their encounters with broken bones, numerous lacerations, missing body parts, or just catatonic, if they came out of the encounter at all.

So Sydney was running almost 30 miles as fast as she could through the rough terrain of a jungle in South America to get to Nigel before he outlived his usefulness to Houghton.

One more. Again. Keep going.

The run, tough under optimal circumstances, was gruelling. She had even ditched her favoured satchel in the first few miles as it slowed her down after double checking what direction she needed to head in. Branches pulled at her hair and clothes as she made her own trail though the trees. Sweat gathered at her temples and coated her chest and neck. Her hair flew behind her like a flag but if Sydney stopped she was worried she'd never get started again. She estimated another 15 miles to go, and while she was fit and did a lot of various workouts on a regular basis, she wasn't exactly training for a marathon. Exhaustion was all ready creeping up on her.

Almost as though her body was in agreement with her thoughts, she stumbled again.

Sydney let out a cry of frustration as she started going again. Her breaths were laboured, and her heart was beating so fast she wondered if she was going to have a heart attack. There was a stitch in her side, and she was beginning to feel sick. She didn't eat much on hunts, too focused on her goal, and this one had been no exception. She regretted it this time – her body could've used the energy.

Focus. One step. Another.

Would she make it? Houghton had had a few hours head start. They were walking, and Nigel was certainly in better shape than he had been when he had first started working with her, but even so, he wouldn't exactly be quick about getting to their destination. Especially if he had figured out that he was facing mutilation or death once Houghton had what she wanted. She'd need him to make it there though – Sydney was certain that Nigel would be useful in navigating to the tomb itself, and was sure that Houghton would have come to the same conclusion.

It would be a close call, she figured. Then what? She'd still need to fight Houghton off once there, and she'd be a formidable opponent. Although at that point, Sydney would have Nigel's help – he'd come through for her before while she was in a fight, either with a well timed unsuspected attack or a blow to the back of the head while they were concentrating on Sydney. She always told Nigel to just 'go with the flow', and now she had to just listen to that advice herself.

Just keep running. That's it. Just one foot in front of the other.

It was the perfect day for this. The jungle was humid and Sydney was grateful for the shade provided by the trees; to have had the sun casting its rays directly on her would've made the run so much worse than it all ready was. No rain meant that the ground wasn't slippery, and she didn't have to squint to see through the rainfall. Her vision was clear and she could see where the sun was sitting, could let it guide her in the right direction.

Nigel had to know she'd be coming for him, was probably relying on her to show up. For all his growth while working for her, she was still the more experienced, the physically stronger. The both of them relied on her to get them out of dangerous situations in most situations. And if something happened to Nigel, how was she supposed to deal with that knowing it was her fault for dragging him into this life in the first place? She knew he enjoyed it, had gotten the sense during the hunt for Buddah's bowl no matter how much he grumbled about wanting a quiet little teaching job while he did his masters and then his doctorate. As much as he was an adult who willingly went with her – he could quit at any time – she still felt as though he were her responsibility. He was her friend as much as he was her employee, and she needed to be there for him.

She just needed to get there in time.

One more step.