Briggs had been gone for hours and Hawke was just starting to admit to himself that he might be worried.
The sun had passed directly overhead at least two hours ago and engrossed in the delicate removal of the satellite transmission equipment from Briggs' briefcase, Hawke had given scant attention to the passage of time. The tool kit was fully stocked with anything that he or any aircraft mechanic might possibly need to do basic or emergency repairs on a Bell Jet Ranger but it was nearly useless for the task at hand. The tweezers from the first aid kit, a pair of needle nosed pliers and his Leatherman were the primary weapons in the battle.
He'd detached the phone from the briefcase, and double and triple checked every connection. He'd finished splicing the few broken wires he'd found but was stymied by a cracked chip. It was possible, not very probable, but possible that there was a similar bit of electronics in the Jet Ranger's radio that could be re-purposed but he needed better mobility to check that. Or someone with better mobility.
Briggs had spent nearly an hour rummaging through the helicopter that morning finally emerging with a scowl and the magnetic compass, which he'd detached in a way that suggested it wouldn't easily be reattached any time soon. He'd then used the knife to cut the tire from the nose wheel. With the top third cut off, it would serve as a rudimentary rubber bowl. He'd set off soon after, with the compass, knife, and the piece of tire, in search of a nearby stream or river. Hawke had watched as Briggs scored trees to mark his path until he could no longer distinguish the man from the trees and the shadows.
He had really expected Briggs back before now, even if only to retrace his steps and set out in a different direction.
He was under no illusions about their survival prospects. In the twenty-four hours since they'd gone down, no other aircraft had flown overhead, nor had he heard any. They had no food and if Briggs didn't find water, they might live through the rest of the week but it wouldn't be pleasant.
He heard movement in the brush and checked his Colt again, popping out the magazine and the chamber to ensure that it was fully loaded. Eight bullets. He could use up to six if the animal came back and was a threat, but he wanted to keep two in reserve.
The noises from the forest sounded different, not at all like those their circling stalker had made and within a few minutes, Hawke let out a shaky sigh, more relieved than he'd admit to distinguish Briggs trudging through the trees. He was limping a little but cradling the wedge of tire in both hands.
"'Bout time," Hawke said, as he pushed the satellite radio and briefcase away from him so he could take the tire from Briggs without getting any water on the electronics. He looked at the water in the tire bowl and started to smile as he saw handfuls of huckleberries floating in it.
Briggs nodded, sank to a knee and then sat, hard and ungracefully on the ground next to Hawke.
"I came across a road, walked it I don't know how many miles until it crossed a small stream. I washed that," he nodded to the tire wedge, "as thoroughly as possible, filled this," he pulled out the plastic water bottle they'd emptied between them earlier, "drank as much from the stream as I could before filling up the tire and then came on back. Never saw a vehicle, person, or any sign that the road has been recently used."
"Where's your vest?"
Briggs kicked off his dress shoes and stretched out his legs. The white leather shoes looked battered and ill-treated, hardly suitable footwear for the woods.
"I used it to mark the forest where I came out onto the road and I left it there along with a business card, just in case." He shrugged. "I had a scheduled check-in upon arrival in Lethbridge, and another last night after I met with Cole."
Hawke felt a smile tug at his mouth.
"Two missed check-ins, huh? Think Marella's going to send the National Guard after you?"
"I damn well hope so or I'm taking her bonus back." Briggs glanced at the dwindling fire and sighed. "Give me a minute to catch my breath and then I'll gather some more firewood."