Peter and Jason took the highway toward the airport in a rented Nissan Infiniti SUV. Each surveyed the landscape on his side of the road as hard rock music blared from the speakers, not quite to Jason's taste.
Jason was clueless about what Peter intended to do if they didn't find any clues on this trip. "So what's your plan?" he shouted over the music.
Peter had removed his coat. His very large arm commanded the steering wheel. His eyes scanned the desert as he spoke. "I've got contacts here from my tours with the Marines. They have contacts, their contacts have contacts, and so forth. They extend everywhere from government to criminal organizations in every country. In my line o' work, if someone needs to be found, we have about a ninety percent success rate. We already got the ball rollin' last night."
"What is your line of work? Search and rescue?"
Peter took his eyes off the desert just for a second to glance at Jason with a smile. "Just gettin' stuff done, man, for whoever can afford it." He resumed his search. "The Marines train us, and the world becomes a business opportunity for those of us who can figure out how to take advantage of it. Bein' able to help people is just a nice perk."
Jason decided to be quiet for a while. He'd never met anyone quite like this before.
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