Tony lifted Blanca into his arms as the truck drew to a stop, climbing down slowly. He set her on the side beside a wheel, waiting until he saw Clarissa. Once they were reunited he climbed back aboard, returning for his guitar. It was cool out in the open, and he pulled his backpack open, selecting a worn sweater. When he returned to the child, he noted she stood beside her mother, wearing a coat.

'Where did you go, Tony?' she asked, fretfully. 'You said you're coming with us.'

'I am,' he replied, setting down the guitar. 'I just went back for this.'

'Alright, everyone, listen,' Christianson began, loudly. 'See this shed? You're to stay here until I come for you. You're NOT to go to town for any reason at all, otherwise I won't be returning for anyone of you. Is that clear?'

The crowd murmured, uneasy in the darkness.

'You want us to stay in that shed?' Tony demanded, unable to keep silent. 'Where are we supposed to sleep? What do we eat?'

'That's your problem,' snapped Christianson, glaring at him. 'You should've brought a little food with you. I'll be back later tomorrow.' He returned to the truck, starting it up. The crowd moved in the direction of the shed.

'Come on,' Tony said, bending down to lift the child onto his backpack. 'Let's get a spot.'

'Tony, you mustn't complain,' Clarissa told him, worried for him as she followed. 'He might just leave you here if you annoy him.'

She's right, Almeida. Whatever were you thinking of? he chided himself. You should recall the lessons you learned at boot camp, sit down, pay attention and above all else, keep your opinions to yourself! He nodded, following her into a wooden shed. In the surrounding darkness he was slightly disorientated, unable to picture his location.

Clarissa pulled a blanket out of her backpack, wrapping herself and Blanca into it. 'Go to sleep, baby,' she soothed, stroking the child's curls.

'I'm hungry,' she complained, rubbing her eyes.

'Blanca, listen to me. If I feed you now, there'll be nothing for tomorrow,' Clarissa told her unhappily. 'Just try to sleep and it will be morning real soon.'

Tony searched his backpack, handing them a sandwich each. His grandfather had packed a dozen for him that morning and insisted he take them with him, refusing to listen to his protests. He made a mental note to call him as soon as was able and thank him.

'Gracias Tony, Blanca needs to eat, but I can't take your food,' Clarissa protested, her eyes expressing deep reluctance to part with the meal. 'It's yours and you don't even know us.'

'I got plenty' he assured her, biting into his sandwich. 'They won't last long.'

'You can take it, mama, we know Tony,' Blanca told her, smiling at him.

The night was long and uncomfortable. Tony had slept in worse places during his service with the Marines, but never with such a vast number of civilians around him, muttering in the dark, moving restlessly. He lay on the concrete floor, his backpack under his head, growing cold and stiff. Unable to take it any longer, he left the shed as the first rays lit the sky, emerging into a deserted field.

The ground was damp under his feet as he patrolled his surroundings, searching for a clue as to their location. He stood in a dry field enclosed by a wire fence; the solitary shed and a rough track the only visible landmarks. Tony followed the track, noting the straight tire lines. It appeared Christianson had used this area to stash his human cargo before. Five minutes later he reached the wire, arriving at a locked gate. Tony frowned thoughtfully, peering at the narrow country lane that met the horizon, arrow straight. Nothing existed to give him a clue as to his whereabouts. 'Guess I won't be calling you this morning, Jack,' he observed, watching a few birds fly against the rising sun. People will be up soon and they'll be getting hungry and thirsty. He turned, following the wire round, his eyes searching for a well, disappointed to find the entire field bare. No tap was to be found anywhere outside the shed. Tony shook his head, not expecting them to be collected until after sunset. Get ready for a real long day, Almeida!

'Buenas dias,' he greeted Clarissa and Blanca, surprised to feel an added sense of responsibility towards them. 'You ready for breakfast?'

Clarissa nodded, pushing her braid to the side. Tony handed them another sandwich each, settling on his backpack.

'I'm thirsty,' the child complained, chewing slowly.

He got up, pulling out a bottle of water. 'I'll give you a bit, princess, ok, but not too much, coz we'll need this for the entire day.' He poured out a little into a plastic cup, noting Clarissa's worried expression.

'Tony, you were outside. Just exactly what do we have round here?'

'Why don't you go see if you can find me some pretty stones,' Tony told the toddler, watching her run outside. 'Not a thing,' he answered, noting her worry. 'It's okay, Clarissa, we'll be fine. I got two bottles of water altogether and a few more sandwiches. You mustn't worry, he'll be back tonight.'

Clarissa nodded, wrapping up the remaining half of her sandwich. 'And if he's not? I notice you didn't drink anything.'

Tony pushed the second bottle further into his clothes, zipping the backpack. 'There are a lot of us here, Clarissa. I don't notice many people drinking. I'll keep this a little longer, just in case.'

She took only a mouthful of water he offered, watching him return his bottle. 'You spent a long time in the army,' she observed.

'What makes you think so?' Tony inquired, finishing his sandwich.

Clarissa stood up, folding the blanket. 'You're the only one who's checked the perimeter, noticed the lack of water and put some aside. You're thinking about rationing it,' she told him. 'You're some kind of officer, aren't you? Why are you here, Tony?'

Tony pulled the impassive mask he had acquired during boot camp on his face. 'I spent a little time in the army, years back,' he admitted, 'but I was never an officer,' he lied, gazing through the open door. 'I just grew up in a real arid area, so I know you gotta save water.'

'You're smart, too,' she said softly, her eyes searching his face. 'I think you're running from somewhere. It's okay, we've all got our secrets. I have no right to pry.'

'Let's go find Blanca,' he suggested, changing the subject, leading her outside. 'Where's her father?' he asked casually, nodding his head in the child's direction. Silence greeted his question and he looked at her curiously. 'It's okay, Clarissa. You've got your own secrets, I'll respect that.'

'No, you can ask,' she told him in a rush. 'He just left, two years back. There were other women, too many others. I stayed with my brother, he supported us.'

'And he moved to the US?' Tony guessed.

'Sí, last year. Now he's saved up enough for us to join him.'

Tony held out his palm and the child deposited a handful of dusty stones into them. 'Gracias, they're lovely.' She giggled, taking a few back and rushed off.

'You know, the only thing I really believe about your story is that you got kids,' Clarissa told him, sighing heavily.

Tony threw her a questioning look, half wishing he could have the previous week back and invent a different cover story. It had hardly mattered, back then. Watch out, Almeida. Anita left you last month, you're still hurting. You WILL NOT allow that to cloud your judgment. You're here for one reason only: to find evidence on Christianson and find his buddies and you'll do that! Clarissa and Blanca are real vulnerable right now, so by all means keep an eye on them, but that's all! He leaned against the shed, brushing a few cobwebs out of his hair. 'How can you tell?' he asked, casually.

'You're real good with Blanca. The nice guys are all married,' she told him wistfully.

A warm feeling rushed through his heart, soothing a little of his pain. He rubbed his face, struggling to think of a suitable reply and coming up blank.

'It's okay,' Clarissa sighed. 'It's just my luck, that's all. I do hope Christianson comes back for us tonight. How long do you expect we can last if he doesn't?'

'Oh, he'll be back alright. He wants to milk us all,' Tony assured her. 'But it's okay, we're not locked in. We can always get to the nearest town and buy stuff.'

The day dragged by excruciatingly slowly, reminding him of the hours his snipers had remained concealed waiting for their targets to emerge. Waiting with the group of civilians was a different matter altogether. People wandered around aimlessly, cursing, eating their food and grumbling about the lack of water. Tony was forced to move to the other side of the field in order to avoid yelling at them. Take it easy, Almeida, they're civilians and they're all real nervous right now.

Towards evening the truck returned. A cheer went up as they saw the cloud of dust it generated and everyone rushed for their bags, shoving each other. Tony grabbed Blanca and gave her to her mother, ordering them to remain outside, while he returned to the shed to collect their things. He helped Clarissa to climb into the back of the truck, handing their bags up, climbing in himself with the child last. It would be a journey of several hours and he had placed them in the most advantageous position, near the crack where a little air could be felt.

If possible, the journey proved worse than the previous one. Fully prepared for the ordeal, Tony handed a little water to the child at regular intervals, holding her in his arms throughout the night. 'Are we nearly there, Tony?' she asked fretfully half an hour into the journey and he shook his head.

'Not quite. Listen, princess, this is gonna be an awful night, but your mom and I are with you. You're a big girl now, aren't you?'

'Sí.'

'So you'll be fine. If you feel sick, tell me.' He attempted to settle her more comfortably against his chest. 'Would you like to hear a story?' he offered, aware of the need to keep her alert. He would have less trouble monitoring her if she remained awake.

'Si. Tell me about your children.'

Tony squirmed, glad of the gloom which hid his burning face. 'Why don't I tell you a little about when I was young?' he suggested, amusing them with tales of his early childhood. The child fell asleep around midnight and he moved carefully, resting his back against his guitar, freeing a hand to lay it on her chest.

'Tony, you're incredible,' Clarissa told him, leaning against him. 'I never met a guy like you. You're worried about her, aren't you?'

'There's not much fresh air,' he admitted, moving his face closer to hers. 'It's okay, Clarissa, I'm watching her. I'll force the door open if necessary.'

'We're real lucky you are here,' she told him, closing her eyes. 'Were you a doctor, Tony?'

'A doctor!' he repeated, chuckling. 'No. I'm not exactly a frequent visitor to one, either.'

'You just happen to know all about the effects of lack of oxygen,' she remarked, settling closer against him. 'No, don't answer,' she said, placing a finger on his lips. 'If you're a mechanic, Tony, I'm the empress of China!' She yawned.

'Get some sleep, your majesty,' he teased, smiling in the darkness. 'I'll wake you up when we approach the border.'

To his surprise the actual crossing proved anticlimactic. Just before they approached the border the truck stopped and Christianson opened the door, ordering them all to remain silent. Nobody moved or spoke as they joined the queue. Beside him Clarissa stiffened, trembling. He reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He felt her fingers squeeze his in return and swallowed. The journey had hastened their friendship along – what would otherwise have taken him months happened in a day. "'Above all else, be honest to yourself,' he had been told, in the marines. 'If you feel something out of the ordinary, take heed and correct it. Ignoring problems WON'T make them disappear. Are you listening, Almeida? Repeat what I just told you!"'

Tony sighed quietly. There was little point hiding from the truth. He liked Clarissa, he liked her a lot. He loved the way her hair hung down her back when she had brushed it that morning. He loved the way she bent down and threw her arms round her daughter. He loved her gentle teasing and her humor. Her curiosity about him tickled his ego. He rested his head against the guitar, a peaceful expression on his face. It seemed he had found a friend and he would do everything to protect her and her daughter, would make certain they would reach their destination safely.

As the night wore on he found himself struggling to remain awake, not daring to shut his eyes. He had a responsibility to keep the child alive which he would not shirk. The truck moved along smooth roads, its passengers sleeping where they lay, their heads resting on each other. Clarissa's head rested on his shoulder and he was reminded of his latest girlfriend, surprised to feel only a mild regret.

The sun was high in the sky by the time the truck pulled up. Tony laid a hand on her, waking her. 'Buenas dias,' he greeted her, smiling. 'We made it.' He noted her joyous smile as the doors were pulled open. His answering smile faded as he saw Christianson and his bearded companion joined by a crowd of armed men.

'Alright, listen up. The Palma family and the following men may go. Everyone else will stay and do a little work; until I receive the full money I'm due.' He read a short list, while everyone listened in silence.

Clarissa stared at him, frightened, instinctively huddling closer to him for protection. Tony squeezed her hand. 'It'll be okay,' he whispered, moving aside to allow the fortunate few to depart. 'I'm not going anywhere!'

Once the five people disembarked, Christianson spoke again. 'Alright, the rest of you. I want you to form a queue here and you'll get a little breakfast! After that we'll assign you some work. If I catch anyone of you attempting to leave, I'll shoot immediately and let me tell you I spent five years in the marines. I don't miss! Now move it.'

Tony frowned mildly, swinging his legs over the edge. He jumped the short distance to the ground and collected his things, setting them by his feet, before lifting down Blanca and Clarissa. They stood together, the child watching the scene with wide eyes. 'How much does your brother owe?' he asked, hating the sight of the loaded weapons pointed at them.

'3000 dollars,' she admitted, quietly. 'He's paying a bit every week. Think they'll let us go?' she asked hopefully.

Tony sighed, doubting it. From what he had seen of the man, Christianson would be unlikely to excuse 3 dollars, let alone 3000. How a former marine could act this way was beyond him. He wondered how many people worked for the gang.

'Are you stupid?' a man yelled at him, poking him in the ribs with a rifle. 'Join that queue. Stand there, now. You understand a little English?'

'A little,' Tony said, pushing the rifle away. He gave the man a hard look and collected their things, hushing the terrified child. Once this was over, he would interrogate that man personally, he decided and he wouldn't be gentle!

The queue was allowed to enter a house, where tables were laid all over what he presumed had been a dining and sitting room. Tony found a table beside a window and collected their plates, bringing water and coffee. 'Okay, we've arrived. Let's eat,' he said, forcing his voice to sound cheerful. All around them people ate, the room eerily silent. The worn out faces, the complete end of the optimism he had witnessed the previous day caused a silent rage in his heart, which he struggled to keep inside. They had arrived in a dangerous situation and he determined to keep the young family safe.

Once the meal had been finished they were marshaled outdoors again, Christianson yelling at them to sit on the grass. They settled in a group, huddled together for security, no one daring to object.

'Alright, listen real well. The local farmers round here need a little help and you people are gonna provide that. They'll pay me for your labor and I'll give you a half of that, so you can buy yourself a little food! The harder you work, the quicker you'll pay off your debts and the more of your wages you'll get to keep. Now I'm gonna read out your names just once, so listen. Alvarez,' he called and a man rose, moving to the truck.

Clarissa stiffened, instinctively grabbing his hand. Tony pulled her close to him and slipped his arm around her. 'I won't leave you,' he whispered, feeling her shaking against him.

'Almeida,' called Christianson.

Tony rose. 'I got my sister's best friend with me and her daughter. I promised her I'd keep an eye on them,' he said, pulling the child into his arms. 'I'll go wherever you send me, but you gotta let them come with me,' he insisted, looking the man in the eye.

'I don't have to do anything,' Christianson told him, irritated. 'You're married; you should worry about your own family, not somebody else's.'

'I'd do a lot better if I could keep an eye on them,' he argued, pulling Clarissa up. 'You see, we've been seeing each other…'

'You Latinos are all the same,' cried Christianson, spitting on the ground. 'Wife at home and girlfriend somewhere else. You'll be telling me you love your wife, next.'

'I do,' Tony insisted, his face betraying no emotion. His old drill instructor would be proud of him, had he witnessed the sight.

'Alright, stay together, what does it matter?' sighed the smuggler. 'Sit over there. You three will be staying on my farm! I'll speak to you later.'

Tony dragged Clarissa behind him, carrying the child to an open section of grass, a few feet from the others. He slipped his arms around them, soothing them. 'It's gonna be okay,' he promised, speaking so softly they had to strain their ears to hear him. 'I'll keep you safe. It's gonna be okay, Clarissa! No one's gonna hurt either of you, I promise.'