"I'm changing our agreement. I'm taking much risk." Muang Hsan stated.

Mustafa stared at him for a moment as if pondering the man's offer then pulled out his gun and fired. The Burmese colonel dropped to the ground, bullet to the head.

Rebekka was shocked. "What are you doing? We needed him."

"Not anymore. I am tired of waiting. We move now." Mustafa's tone was such that he wound not tolerate disagreement.

The former Stasi agent motioned for a couple of soldiers to remove the corpse. "Your actions jeopardize what we have her."

He grabbed her by the jaw to force her to look at him. "I do not care, woman. Now do as I say." He shoved her and for a moment Rebekka's hand rest on her weapon. The mission, however, was more important than her pride. The East German raised her head high and left the cavern fully aware that Mustafa's arrogance, for all its bluster, needed funds and logistics. He needed her.

Gillian considered killing Mustafa at that point. The terrorist was saved by the arrival of six of his men. They spoke in whispered Arabic and sounded like an argument. She couldn't hear them clearly enough but some of the men didn't like the unholy alliance they were in with the Infidels.

Again, it raised the question of who was supporting Mustafa. Her head turned to where Rebekka had disappeared. With some regret, she left the terrorist and his cronies in search of the German spy-turned-mercenary.

At the moment, she moved freely dressed as a soldier and came across Muang Hsan's body being unceremoniously dumped into a crevice in one of the abandoned tunnels. Backtracking she heard Rebekka's voice barking orders. Gillian stayed well back but one of the soldiers, who seemed to come out of nowhere, pushed her shoulder. "You're not paid to stand around. Get down there and start loading the trucks." She obediently complied as expected; taking this opportunity to see what was going on.

There were several dozen men where she went, all helping to load four big trucks. The crates were marked WORLD RELIEF PROGRAM with a stylized logo. Rebekka was there overseeing it. Another in a white lab coat watched nervously and kept telling the soldiers to be extremely careful.

She picked up one of the crates and followed behind others out to the trucks. The crate didn't feel significantly heavy but then she didn't figure weapons, in the traditional sense.

The sky was beginning to darken. If they planned on heading out, they had to do it soon before they were hit was a deluge. That meant heading for the river. Some of the locals looked up too and could see what was going to befall them. There was grumbling. Being in the jungle was nothing like it was portrayed in a Hollywood movie.

Gillian adjusted her hat, keeping her blonde locks hidden as she continued loading the crates until they were ordered into the trucks. Some were uneasy, she assumed it had to do with the cargo, but the top thugs assured that everyone was aboard or dead.

As the trucks headed out, 004 could see the bodies of the Burmese soldiers that had accompanied Muang Hsan. They were riddled with bullet holes.

The drive over the rough road was jarring and there was little to no conversation between the soldiers with her. She also couldn't check the crates with so many eyes about. Therefore, she waited.

A river barge was at the end of the line. The trucks drove on its deck and were tied down with chains. It had started to rain and in no time, it was a downpour. Anyone caught in it was instantly soaked through. There was a lot of complaining but the bulk was allowed in the wheelhouse. Three, including Gillian, were to remain outside to watch the trucks and make sure they remained secure.

She was bullied to the stern by the other two because it was far easier to fall overboard trying to keep yourself balanced on the slick deck in choppy waters there.

While the two other sentries laughed at their cunning, she went to where she was posted and when they had all but forgotten her, darted into the back of the last truck. As the cargo was risky, no one, not even in the rain, dared sit under the tarped back. This allowed her some much-needed privacy. She unsheathed her dagger and used it to pry open the closest crate.

Inside were countless bottles marked PENICILLIN. The clear liquid inside could easily be mistaken for the drug. She opened her canteen, taking a long drink then dumped the rest out. Gillian then filled a small portion of the 'Penicillin' into the canteen. At the first available moment, she'd give it to MI-6.

So as not to create suspicion, she hopped out of the truck to play the role of sentry.

The barge stopped well short of the cities of Mandalay and Sagaing where a rough dock was set up and a barely visible road was carved through the dense foliage. A Jeep, with a half dozen armed men, was waiting there.

The trucks rolled off the barge, following the Jeep. The road was beginning to worsen as the rain turn the ground to mud. However, it was not long before they arrived in a clearing where an AN26 was sitting on a gravel runway with its aft cargo door open.

Once the trucks came to a stop, there were shouted commands to load the plane quickly. Gillian was drafted into carrying the crates again. Once that was done, the soldiers buckled themselves in.

There was turbulence until the plane climbed above the clouds. The fundlementalists under Mustafa were the serious lot, all ruthlessly determined to do whatever the bidding required. They were there for the cause. The other men were mercenaries; hired killers determined to fill their Swiss bank accounts. The mercenaries, with a splatter of British, French, German and Africaans' accents were more vocal.

Once the plane was at its given attitude, Mustafa and his men went to the back of the plane, among the cargo, to pray to Allah.