Eduardo cursed. He spat on the ground and yelled toward the heavens. It was many hours before any of his companions dared to confront him.
"You have a phone call," they had sent the youngest of their group, so that Euduardo could kill him without causing any real inconvenience.
Eduardo went inside and lifted the reciever.
"Hello," he listened to the reply.
"So you have failed, Eduardo," the distant voice rasped. Eduardo hated calls from overseas. It was so hard to discern the voices from the rushing noises in the background.
"I lost her, yes, but not for long. Eduardo does not fail."
"See that you do not," continued the voice. "Or I will have to pay him a visit."
"Sir, I will succeed. You will not be dissapointed! One little photographer is, after all, not so hard to keep track of in the desert. Especially when she has no water. I will have her ensnared before tomorrow morning."
"Do not make promises you are incapable of keeping. You do not know her as I do. She is...tenacious." the voice snapped, leaving Eduardo in silence.
He dropped the phone and leaned against the wall. It was many more hours before his comrades dared approach him once more.
At first, Carie did not even know where she was going. The road signs were scarce enough, and those she could find were written in Arabic, which Carie knew by sight, even if she could not read it.
So she drove through the night, the morning, and into dinner-time. At least, until the van ran out of gas. Well, she thought, at least I know this isn't Iraq. There'd be plenty of Americans taking and selling oil there.
She knew she could not stay where she was; she would die. The sun was her greatest enemy now. It would surely kill her. But it would kill her to walk too, without water. And to stay still waiting for Eduardo too kill her was out of the question.
Carie had always been a woman of action. She opened the door of the van and started walking.
The heat of the desert swallowed her whole.