She could hear Declan walking right behind her, his boots snapping twigs, and it brought back the days when she was still young, still in the field, silently moving through the Burmese jungle, where the air smelled like rotting vegetation. She’d moved quicker in those days, unbothered by the heat and the mud, because it was still an adventure, with a heady dose of fear in the mix. The fear of capture, and what would inevitably follow: Interrogation. Torture. Possible execution. Today it was just a summer hike with two good friends and a full water bottle in her backpack, but she could feel
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