He turned to see Mila standing over an emptied satchel near the tree line. The seared leather bag looked as though someone had already torn it open, pulling out the contents then casting it aside like garbage. A dozen papers, possibly from that same satchel, had been scattered about the brush, some burnt from the heat of the blast. In fact, as Michael figured, they had to have been in the satchel or they would have been incinerated when the plane went up.
"Come look at this," his Tracker called.
Wasting no time, Michael stepped over the charred corpse and walked over to the edge of the clearing to where Mila stood by the brush line. Right away she handed him a piece of paper while going over the rest of the Nekonian-script documents. When the Sergeant looked at the paper he had been give
