"Jed," Jenny whispered from up front, fifteen minutes after they had floated quietly passed the perimeter wire of the base.

"Shh. What?"

"Wolfgang here is perking up his ears at something ashore. Do you hear, or see, anything on our right?"

"No."

"Well the dog does. He is wagging his tail. Stop that Wolf?"

"What is going on?"

"He's sniffing me, and then the breeze, and wagging his tail."

"Smart dog."

"Jed, he seems to be interested in my dad's flight cap!"

Jed thought for a moment. Then he cupped his hands about his mouth and emitted a sharp whistle. After a moment of silence, the signal was returned, slightly muffled.

"I'm going to take a chance." Jed breathed out quietly. "Someone is there for sure. It could be your dad. That was a marmot whistle. Whoever answered knows that marmots usually are only found above timberline, not in a subalpine tundra."

"Oh, Jed, let's find him."

"Then, again, it could be a trap."

"Jed, PLEASE."

"Of course. But, let me go ashore alone. We'll put the kayak next to that snag. You hold on. If I bark like a fox, just let go. Get out of here. Paddle like mad. Take the files and, and ... just don't let anyone know about them, until you can trust them. Keep the dog tied. If it is a trap he would give us away."

Jed slipped over the side, and swam the 100 feet to the protection of a bush fighting a losing battle with the flow of the river that had undercut the bank. He gave another chattering whistle, remembering while he did so that the cute, furry mountain marmots he had enjoyed watching in the past, at a certain angle could be mistaken as a rat with sharp, squirrel-like teeth.