Author's Note: Hello, everyone. Sorry this took so long coming, but like the rest of America (or so it seemed) I was away from my home over labor day. Hope this makes up for having you wait; I'll try not to be so evil again. But I will warn you, there is another cliffhanger here (though not as bad). Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own much of anything, least of all Covert Affairs.

Auggie put up his hands defensively. "I'm not armed," he stated, feeling like he had jumped out of the frying pan into the fire. "And I'm definitely not dangerous!"

"I wouldn't bet on that senor," growled the man with the gun. "Many times bandits have said the same thing, and we travel out to the fields to find another of our number dead. No, these hills house bad people."

Auggie tried a tentative smile. "Well, I'm not from these hills. I came from Rio Branco."

The man was silent for so long Auggie wondered if he had left. He had never known anyone to breathe so quietly! At last, as Auggie's knees began to feel like they were made of wood, the man stated, "you are blind?"

"Yes," Auggie replied, "though I think that makes it understandable why I am on your land; I didn't see a 'no trespassing' sign."

The man gave a laughing snort. "This is not my land," he said. "It belongs to Senor Valmor, the rubber farmer. And you are lucky I found you first; Fernando would have watched you be eaten by the snake, while Bernardo would have shot you. I, Tomas, will give you a chance to explain yourself. Who are you?"

Auggie swallowed to wet his dry throat and tried to answer without shifting his position. "Paulo," he said without hesitation. "I was a college student; but I lost my funding when I had the accident that made me blind. Since then, I have traveled to search for work. I have been many places; can you use a worker on this farm?"

Tomas let out a loud belting laugh and lowered his gun. "Can we use a worker? Maybe one in good shape with no tongue on them, but not one such as you? How can you empty the rubber buckets or see to place the taps?"

Auggie felt anger rise in his throat; he hated it when people thought that he couldn't do anything because of his eyes. But he kept quiet, knowing that he was on Valmor's land. The thing he should try to do most would be to look pathetic, so that he could at least get in the house. "Sir, is there anything I could do then for food?" Auggie asked, managing to sound rather plaintive.

"I will tell you what," answered Tomas after a moment, "Marisol, who is like a mother to us, will be pleased to feed you. She is always pleased to take in stray ones."

Auggie stood then, his wooden knees grinding together. "Thank you so much," he said.

Tomas clicked the safety on his gun, then pulled out something that sounded like a knife leaving a sheath. "No use letting this snake go to waste," he stated. "I will chop off as much meat as you and I can carry. That it how you will earn your breakfast."

Tomas set about to hacking up the snake, and Auggie felt his stomach squirm. He had almost been the snake's breakfast, not the other way around.

Soon, Auggie was loaded up with snake meat. Tomas had tied the snake meat in bundles to his shoulders, and had loaded Auggie up in the same manner. Auggie felt like he was wearing a thousand pound sack, carrying nothing but snake muscle. He used his walking stick to prod along, following the sound of Tomas's cheerful whistling. They must have hiked three miles back to Valmor's estate; Auggie's already tired and sore legs were trembling from exhaustion by the time they arrived.

Auggie first felt the change under his feet. The mud had given way to harder ground, and in five minutes or so the harder ground became flat smooth pavement. Then, the air changed around him; becoming cooler and less humid. Auggie took welcome gasps of this air; it was less thick and didn't feel like he was continually breathing under water. Then, he heard the clattering and clanging associated with a kitchen.

Tomas never stopped whistling, but entered the kitchen with a dramatic rise in volume. Auggie heard several women laugh and say rapid phrases in hurried Portuguese, not even pausing in their work. Auggie heard little to no English, until suddenly he heard a woman exclaim, "Tomas! Look all, the Whistler has found us a new pet!"

Good-natured laughing followed, and Auggie felt the burden swept from off his back. The snake flesh had been taken to be cooked or stored. Auggie straightened out, his back hurting like fire from being bent over so long.

"Oh, he is not so little," laughed another woman. "He looks much more dignified standing up straight!"

"He's so cute!" another exclaimed.

The women laughed again, and Auggie felt himself staving off frustration. The room felt like a blur around him; noise coming from everywhere, and he dared not move for fear of running into someone or something. Then suddenly, he felt a hand grab his.

"Never mind these jabbering birds," said a woman with an older voice. "Follow me; you have done a good morning's work; you shall receive at least a decent breakfast!"

Auggie was then led into a smaller room, but none the less noisy. Utensils clattered against dishes, and a continuous vibrating hum of Portuguese covered up the chewing and crunching noises. Auggie walked until the woman pushed him down gently into a chair of sorts. It was quieter here; he must have been put into a corner. A bowl was pushed into his hands, and Auggie took a tentative sniff. Fresh baked bread dipped in... milk? Well, that was something, anyway. Auggie explored the rest of the bowl and found out it held some fruit as well. "Good," he thought, for despite his secret stash of jerky, Auggie was starving.

He heard the woman pull up a chair next to him. "I am Marisol," she said without preamble, "and you are a long way from Rio Branco. Tomas said your name was 'Paulo.'"

Auggie nodded, listening with all his might to the conversations around him in order to hear if anyone had heard of Annie. Marisol waited with an expectant silence, though, so Auggie decided to expand. "I used to go to the college here, and was in an accident where I lost my sight. I had nowhere to go and so I stayed in Rio Branco."

Marisol was silent for a moment, then replied, "But are you not American? Will not your own country take you back?"

Auggie shrugged, trying to look like he was totally homeless. "I have no reason to go back," he said after a moment.

"No family?"

"Nope." Auggie continued to chew, trying to look tough and yet vulnerable at the same time.

After a moment, Marisol said, "I have some extra work that needs to be done in the kitchen today- can you shell peas?"

Auggie's face broke into a wide grin. "I grew up on a farm!" he exclaimed. "I can shell peas in my sleep!"

"Good," Marisol affirmed. "You can stay for today. As soon as you are done eating, I will lead you to your work station. We have many, many peas to shell."

Auggie had wanted to run off and look for Annie straight off the bat, but he didn't know his way around yet. The last thing he wanted to do was end up somewhere he was not supposed to be, and then what? Knowing how much these people liked to use their guns... Auggie hated to think of what would happen to himself (and to Annie) if he were caught.

Instead, Auggie let himself be led to a table and was sat down next to two bowls. One held pea pods, heaped up in a huge pile. The other was empty. Auggie had TONS of experience shelling peas from his childhood, though, and he soon fell into a decent rhythm. Shelling peas brought him back to his days on his family's farm; running through the fields playing hide and seek with his older brothers, fishing in the creek, and chasing his dog through the fall leaves. He was just imagining the singular crunching sound they made when into the room bounded a virtual wall of feminine laughter. The rustling husks of plants were suddenly being rustled in every direction, and the pouring of beans into sorting baskets from every side made the room seem like it was in the middle of a thunder storm. The noise died down as everyone else got into a steady rhythm of working; talking was now the preliminary mode of entertainment.

The girls talked back in forth in beautiful waves of Portuguese, and Auggie felt a pang of jealousy that he could not understand them. However, one name just kept coming up; "Eduardo." One of the girls laughed each time someone said the name, and soon an animated story was underway. Auggie listened in earnest, but no familiar words reached his ears. At last, as the woman was ending her story, Auggie asked loudly, "who is Eduardo?"

The women stopped their chattering in surprise, and Auggie felt his face redden. But suddenly, one of the women (the one who told the story) explained. "Eduardo is a joker who is always trying to get out of work. Today he is in bed sick because he said a plate flew out of the window and hit him last night. I heard that Valmor heard his story and beat him for his lies, but Eduardo holds that his mouth is swollen from the plate. Too bad, too; Eduardo is a great kisser. Isn't that right, Vanessa?"

Shrieks wailed as Vanessa apparently threw a handful of beans at the story teller. Auggie, remembering his dream and how Annie had said she threw her food out the window, didn't let the story die. "Wow," he said. "What a crazy story! I wonder if it is true?"

The storyteller laughed. "It may be true; after all, it is the ghost room."

"Ghost room?"

"Yes. There are many rooms in this house, but one of them is a ghost room. So the legends go, anyone who dies on the plantation can have a place to stay in the ghost room, which is the highest room in the house. Eduardo was under the room last night, waiting to serenade Vanessa when the plate hit him."

"And you should have seen his face!" shouted another girl with glee. "It was all bloodied up; that'll spoil his fine looks for a while."

"How dare you!" shrieked Vanessa in mock anger, and the bean throwing contest began again. Auggie thought for a moment about ways to ask the girls if they had seen Annie, then suddenly an idea spring into his head. "I knew of someone who died around here," he began.

The room went quiet again except for the scrapings of knives on food. "Please, tell," said the storyteller; it was evident that these women loved a good ghost story.

Auggie grinned morbidly. "There was someone I knew in college; not well, but knew of. Anyway, she was a beautiful woman, with a voice like a water-spring and a walk like a panther. She spoke with a laugh in her voice, but with sorrow in her heart. One day, she and her uncle traveled to this plantation. She was very kind to all, but became very sick. Her uncle took her away, but she died on the way home. If it is true you have a ghost room, perhaps she is there."

No one said a word; after a moment, the girls began to get up. One by one they left the room. Auggie cursed himself for his stupidity; how could he have been so dumb! He not only gave away his knowledge of Annie, but had made himself known. And yet, he had been hoping that his story would bring him at least some intel. Suddenly, he was yanked out of his laments by a person clapping their hands in a slow, steady beat.

"Bravo, bravo senor," said the storyteller, presumably the last in the room. "You have indeed seen a ghost. Now, I am a woman of reason, plus an excellent storyteller. You tell me your real name now. If I like it, perhaps I will help you. If it is something I do not like, I will not hesitate to scream and my friends will not hesitate in killing you."

Auggie took a deep breath to calm his nerves. "Auggie," he said after a moment. "My name is Auggie."

"You're Auggie!" the woman exclaimed. "That is a good name to choose, senor. I have been helping to care for Annie, and I have heard her call for you many times. The girls who were just in here don't know about her. They too think she is a ghost."

Auggie nodded in relief, glad that he had found a friend in the house of his enemy. Suddenly, he felt a hand grab his own. "Come with me," the storyteller urged. "You must hurry, before the kitchen crew returns to start lunch."

Auggie let himself be led through several corridors, up through flights of stairs, and through several doors. "This house must be huge!" he thought to himself; it seemed an eternity before they stopped their flight in front of a room.

"Go through the door in front of you," the storyteller stated; then she turned and fled.

Auggie found himself standing before an old swinging wooden door totally alone. He took a deep breath placed his hands on the weathered wood, and gave the door a push. It swung open into a wide, cool, and airy room. Auggie walked in and asked tentatively, "Annie? Annie, are you here?"

Suddenly, the door behind him slammed and a man was standing behind him. Auggie heard his heavy tread an knew that this was not just any man; it had to be a large, burly man. A voice in front of Auggie beckoned him into the room farther.

"Come in, spy," the man snarled. "My name is Marco Sanchez, and now you are going to tell me how you are in the wrong place at the absolute worst of times."