"Please sit down, Mr. McConnell." The Senator gestured to a chair in his opulent Washington office. He sat behind the mahogany desk and put his elbows on the polished surface. His expression was grave and his eyes were bloodshot from loss of sleep. "You were very highly recommended by a friend. I appreciate your coming so promptly. You must assure me that what is said here will not leave this room."

Cord leaned back in the chair and studied the Senator. He didn't believe that the man normally started his day at dawn and especially not on a Saturday. Finally, he broke the silence, "I understand. It will go no further, sir."

"My daughter, Stephanie, is married to Warren Prophet. He owns an up-and-coming charter business in Denver. Maybe you've heard of Prophet Aeronautics." At Cord's negative shake of the head, the Senator continued, "Well, no matter. Two days ago, two million dollars worth of special Bearer Bonds were stolen from the Federated Bonds and Securities Exchange in Denver. A short time later a chartered jet left my son-in-law's strip headed for Vancouver, Canada. There were five men who boarded that flight, all clean-cut, athletically built, and with several large suitcases. The thieves also numbered five and in spite of disguises were reported fitting the same general descriptions except that they carried a black backpack each. I feel that these are the same men." The Senator paused to make sure that McConnell was following.

"That sounds like a very reasonable assumption. It also sounds like something the FBI should follow up on, sir. I don't chase thieves." Cord was sure that the powerful man behind the desk already knew that, but wanted to be straightforward with him.

"It would be an FBI matter, if that was the end of the story. Under the circumstances, however, it's the last thing I want to have happen. Stephanie and Warren have two sons, my grandsons, Richard and Donald. They haven't been seen since that plane took off on Thursday afternoon. Warren contacted the pilot, but was never told directly that they were not aboard. The pilot passed it off as a boy's prank to avoid a doctor's visit of some sort. We feel that he could have been forced to go along with the criminals to protect the boys. Regardless, the plane went down later that evening--in the Bitterroot Wilderness area of Eastern Idaho. We don't know if it was mechanical failure or the pilot's efforts to stop what was happening. It crashed on the south side of Ranger Peak. The Idaho Search and Rescue Team said the pilot did a remarkable job of the crash landing, but he and two men were dead when the plane was found yesterday morning. There was no sign that anyone else had been on board and no visible trail leading from the wreckage. That ends their job and as oddly as it seems, I encouraged them to stop searching. I convinced my daughter and her husband to let me handle things from this end." The dignified statesman paused to light a cigar with trembling hands. He held the humidor out to Cord, who shook his head no.

"The job I want you for is to rescue my grandsons. I don't care spit about the criminals or the Bonds or anything else except getting those boys back safely. I want them taken from those criminals before they decide to eliminate them or use them as bargaining chips. Another contact is arranging for an expert tracker with a remarkable success rate who knows the area. He will meet you at the wreckage whenever you say. And, you should know, these men are dangerous. Preliminary autopsy reports show that one of the men in the crash died of a gunshot wound and not his crash injuries."

"And if the boys aren't with those men?" Cord asked. If they were too much trouble it was possible they were already dead, but he refrained from saying so.

"I want their bodies brought home for proper burial or I want you to find out where they are. You'll be paid either way, but there will be a considerable bonus if they are found alive--for both you and the tracker."

"And if the situation demands it, are you willing to negotiate for their release?" Cord needed to know how far the Senator was willing to go.

"Their disappearance has not been released to the media and no one is aware that they are my grandsons. We felt it safest for them. I think you can see why I don't want a bunch of Federal Agents beating the bushes for these robbers. I believe their focus would be primarily apprehending the felons and recovering the Bonds. Ricky and Don might fall through the cracks. And to answer your question, I will do whatever it takes to get them home. I expect you to do the same if you accept the job. I will notify the proper authorities afterward and deal with whatever arises from our actions."

"Senator, how old are the boys? Would they be able to handle wilderness like this?" Cord knew that small boys would not survive long. If abandoned, they couldn't make it alone. And they would be a definite liability if they couldn't keep up.

"Ricky is sixteen and Don is fourteen. They are both healthy, fairly athletic, Ricky more so than Don. Their father has taken them camping and hiking several times a year since they were old enough to carry a pack. If they weren't injured in the crash, they can make it. Even if Don falls behind, Ricky wouldn't leave him. They've always been close." Pride showed in the Senator's face and voice as he spoke of his grandsons.

"You know my usual fee, sir." Cord stated his acceptance of the job.

"Very reasonable, under the circumstances," the gray-haired grandfather agreed. "Half will be sent to your account when you begin, the other half upon completion. And if they are returned home alive I won't forget the bonus."

"When do I leave, Senator?" Cord couldn't walk away from this one. It seemed he never could when kids were involved.

"A private jet is on standby to fly you to Helena, Montana when you have your things ready. From there a chopper will fly you to the crash site. The tracker will meet you there." The Senator stood and stubbed out his cigar.

"I can leave from here. I have my basic gear with me and anything else I can pick up in Helena."

"Give the attendant on the plane a list and whatever you need will be on the chopper waiting for you when you land. Order anything that might help. I'll okay it."

"Thank you, sir. It's better if I travel light, so I won't need much. I hope to be in touch in a few days. I'll arrange something about fly-overs and a pick-up with the chopper pilot." Offering his hand to the Senator, Cord smiled for the first time. "If they're out there, sir, we'll find them."

"I certainly hope so, McConnell. A man needs his family." There were tears in the old man's eyes as he shook the hand in front of him.

Cord turned and walked to the door. As he opened it, the Senator's voice stopped him.

"McConnell." The voice was firm and steady once again.

"Yes?" He looked back over his shoulder.

"It wouldn't hurt my feelings, and there would be no repercussions, if those men were never seen again. Whatever it takes to bring my grandsons home." Senator Whitmire looked him straight in the eye.

"I understand, sir." Cord closed the door quietly behind him.