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"Yeah," said Kevin, finishing off his pretzels. "Got any bottled water?"

"Sure," replied the man. "And you?" he asked Chad. "May I get you some soda?"

"I'll have water, too," replied the boy. "Then what happened, Kevin?"

"Where was I?" asked the man, with a hint of merriment in his eyes.

"The ground was rushing up at you," reminded Chad.

"Oh, yeah," resumed Kevin, regaining his train of thought. "It was my first HALO and I was less than a minute away from slamming into the ground. I mean, when you impact the ground that hard, all that's left of you is a pile of teeth and a hole in the runway. The instant my chute failed, the training just kicked in. I reached up, pulled my reserve chute, and floated to the ground like nothing happened."

"Wow," breathed Chad, fascinated by Kevin's story.

"Do you know what HALO is?" asked the bodyguard, opening his bottled water and taking a few swallows.

"High Altitude Low Opening," replied Chad.

"Correct," said Kevin. "There's also HAHO, High Altitude High Opening, but that's even rougher. When I did my first HAHO, I have to confess, by the time I touched ground, I had to change my pants."

"Kevin, you're not trying to talk him into becoming a SEAL, are you?" groaned Charlie, waking up with a yawn. "I'm not sure his mother would ever speak to me again, if he returned home ready to enlist."

"No, ma'am," replied her bodyguard. "They're good men, but it's a dangerous way for anyone to live, and an even harder way to die."

"Getting in between the bad guys and my aunt is safer?" laughed Chad.

"Much safer," smiled Kevin.

The group ate lunch later that day, and after making two refueling stops, finally landed in Dawson Creek, British Columbia, a little after three in the late afternoon.

"Welcome to Dawson Creek!" shouted a man, walking toward them as they climbed down the steps of the jet. "I'm Gus! Mr. Clark, you talked to me yesterday about a vehicle sound enough to brave our highway!"

"Yes," replied Adam, shaking his hand. "Is it ready?"

"Ready and waiting," answered the man, walking them to a large landrover sized outdoor vehicle near the main office building. "I had a mechanic check it over just this morning, and it's in perfect condition. It's so sound, I'd let my own mom drive the highway in this, and she's eighty-two!"

"How many miles have you got on it?" asked Adam, popping the hood to get a look at the engine.

"About two thousand," he replied. "There's plenty of space to comfortably seat four people, and a good sized area in back to store your luggage and camping equipment."

"Which reminds me," requested Charlie, "where can we buy some camping gear? We need to get outfitted before we can get underway."

"The mall is a little ways from here," said the man. "I'll jot down the directions."

The man scratched out a rough map and handed it to the young woman. He and Kevin loaded up the landrover, and everyone climbed inside the roomy vehicle. The pilot of the private jet waved to Adam and then got back into the aircraft to take off.

"The jet will meet us in Fairbanks at the end of the road," said Adam, starting the engine.

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