[ He asked for it. But it leaves him more off-balance than expected, thinking of her creeping through the jungle, stretching her supplies thin. Taking an arrow to the throat while boiling her little bit of water, and all on his account.

He switches off the walkie. Goes ten minutes before he turns it back on. ] You know what the range on a crossbow is? Conservative estimate? Forty yards. They got a base out here, you don't know where it is or how big. [ Because she was too busy anointing herself the only one who cared about Shaw's supposed mental break—but he clamps down on that thought. ] Maybe they got watch stations too, communication methods. Could fill a book, what we don't know.

And you have a stick.