He met her eyes across the sea of little people, his expression one of amused exasperation that made her grin in response. They'd been helping with a group craft project, and though they weren't even half finished, the picnic pavilion looked like a war zone. Scraps of construction paper littered the tables, the floor, and more than a few heads of hair. Glitter, the bane of every parent's existence, had found its way onto everything except the miniature space ships the boys were supposed to be making. Harm bent to pick up an errant toilet paper tube, handing it to a little boy who grinned his thanks before turning back to his task, small head bent in concentration, the tip of a pink tongue peeking out between his teeth.

Mac felt a tug on her shirt and glanced down, her gaze connecting with a pair of earnest green eyes.

"Mrs. Rabb? Can you help me?"

"Sure, Chris. What do you need?"

He held out a mangled toilet paper tube. "Can you hold this while I put the glue on?"

"Absolutely." Putting one foot on the picnic bench next to Chris, Mac bent to the task at hand. At other tables, more boys were working on the same craft project, each den with its own table and contingent of adult volunteers. The result was a sort of organized chaos.

"There," she said, carefully unsticking her fingers from Chris's project. "Will that work?"

"Yup." He grinned up at her. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Mac moved on, checking on the other kids, lending a hand when needed, and occasionally hurrying to grab pieces of construction paper and yarn before they could be carried away by the afternoon breeze. She'd bent to retrieve a pair of safety scissors from beneath a bench when a sudden eruption of childish anger nearby brought her head up.

"You ruined it!" Timmy's voice carried the sound of angry tears.

"I didn't mean to…" Brad. Defensive. This couldn't be good.

Harm, Mac, and Rich converged on the boys, too late to stop Timmy's next move, but not too late to groan at the results. Timmy, his actions fueled by anger and youthful lack of control, grabbed Brad's craft project and crushed it between his hands, wadding it into an unrecognizable ball of wet glue, construction paper, and cardboard before throwing it back across the table at the other boy.

"There," he said triumphantly. "Now we're even."

Predictably, Brad burst into tears.

Harm and Mac exchanged a glance and acted, each taking a small boy by the hand and leading him to a corner of the pavilion - away from the other children who, excitement over, quickly turned their attention back to their own projects. Like fighters in the ring, the two boys glared at each other across the other campers, faces streaked with tears and dirt. Mac sighed and settled her hands on Timmy's shoulders, turning him towards her and away from the rest of the children. She crouched down, meeting him at eye level.

"What happened, Tim?"

Timmy scrubbed at his eyes with the back of one grimy hand before answering. "He ruined my spaceship!"

"I heard that part," Mac answered. "How did he ruin it?"

"He dumped glitter all over it!"

"Couldn't you just dump it off again?"

Timmy looked at her sullenly. "He did it on purpose."

"How do you know that?"

"'Cause he always does stupid stuff like that. On the hike this morning, he shoved me and I almost fell down."

"That was an accident and you know it," Mac said gently. "I saw what happened. He tripped on a root and fell into you."

"He's a dweeb."

"Timmy." Mac's voice was firm. "That's not a nice thing to say."

"It's true!" Timmy's chin jutted out mutinously.

"It is not, and you know it."

Timmy's response was to scuff his toe on the concrete, staring at the small cloud of dust he raised as though it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

"I want you to go over there and apologize to Brad."

"But he started it!"

"I don't care who started what. You did wrong, and you need to apologize."

"But…"

"No buts."

Timmy folded his arms stubbornly.

"If you'd prefer, I could discuss this with your father at the next den meeting…"

"No!" Timmy's response was instantaneous, as Mac had known it would be. "Please don't tell him."

Mac angled her chin toward Harm and Brad, who were walking toward them. "Then go apologize."

Timmy sighed and turned toward Brad, arms still folded, chin jutting dangerously. "Sorry."

He didn't sound very apologetic, but Mac let it go, waiting to see what Brad would do.

"Sorry."

Mac held back a grin. The sullen tones were a carbon copy of Timmy's.

"Now shake," Mac said, reminding them of the tradition.

The boys glared at each other, but did as they were told.

"All right, you two," Harm said afterwards, "get back to work. Timmy, maybe you'd help Brad fix his spaceship?"

"Yeah. Sure." The response held a noted lack of enthusiasm, but the two boys turned and headed obediently back to the picnic table.

Harm and Mac stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the boys go. She felt him snag her fingers with his. "So," he said, his voice just above a whisper. "Are you having fun yet?"

"Absolutely." She meant it. "What was Brad's story?"

Harm shrugged. "He says somebody shoved him."

"Do you believe him?"

"Hard to say. He seemed earnest, but he's been in one scrape after another with the other boys since we got here."

Mac sighed. "Poor kid."

They watched the kids work for a few minutes, and Mac noticed that most seemed to be getting close to finishing. "We'd better get over there," she said. "Looks like they're about ready to start cleaning up."

"Gee. I can hardly wait."

She laughed and moved away, stepping smoothly back into her role as adult volunteer as she began scooping up scraps and gathering scissors into a tidy pile.

It took several minutes and much noise to bring the picnic pavilion back to some semblance of its original tidy order, but when they finished, most of the craft materials had been confined to a single table in the corner, and all of the boys were waiting anxiously for their parents, spaceships cradled carefully in their hands.

Mac latched the lid on the garbage can and turned around, her eyes automatically going to the milling group of children. Afternoons were always the hardest when it came to keeping up with the kids. Tired, argumentative, anxious for their parents' arrival, they tended to be more difficult to control than they were in the mornings. She did a quick head count, scanning the assembled group for her son's den.

Timmy, Ryan and Chris were walking the low stone wall that bordered the pavilion, spaceships held high above their heads in simulated flight. Tommy and his dad were carrying craft materials to the lodge, Ben following behind with a box of what looked like unused cardboard toilet paper tubes. That left… She scanned the group of kids. Where was Brad?

"Harm?"

He turned toward her from his position a few feet away where he was helping a little boy untie a knot in his bandanna. "What?"

"Have you seen Brad?"

Harm scanned the group of kids. "Not in the last few minutes, no. Want me to look for him?"

"He probably just went to the bathroom." They'd repeated the buddy rule to the boys so many times that it should've been automatic for them to never go anyplace alone. They were still young though, and Mac knew all too well that the young did not always do as they were told. "I'll go check," she said. "You'd better stay here. Mary should be along any minute to pick up her group."

He nodded and turned back to what he was doing.

Mac scanned the pavilion one last time before starting off toward the bathrooms. She stopped to talk to Rich on the way, still not bothered when he said he hadn't seen Brad either. Instead, they shared a commiserating smile over the challenges of keeping up with a group of young boys, and she went on her way, fully expecting to find Brad within moments and escort him back to join the rest of the group.

Brad wasn't in the bathroom.

He also wasn't in the mess hall, or any of the cabins, or the camp office.

Growing increasingly concerned, Mac headed back to the picnic pavilion. They'd find Brad faster if more people were looking, and most of the kids would probably be gone by now anyway. Rich and Harm saw her coming and moved to meet her.

"Mac…?"

She met Harm's eyes, her own full of concern. "He wasn't there, Harm." She turned to Rich. "I also checked the cabins, the mess hall, and the camp office. No sign of him anywhere."

"Okay," Rich said. "I guess it's time to organize a search party." He turned toward the pavilion, doing a quick count of the remaining adults. "I'll get things organized here." He looked at Harm. "Would you go up to the camp office? Let them know what happened? They've got some radios we can use too."

"Will do." Harm headed for the office at a sprint while Mac and Rich turned back to organize the search.

********

By the time Harm returned with the radios and three members of the regular camp staff all but a handful of boys had gone home. Mary had taken most of Ben's den home, but a few boys from other dens whose parents were den leaders or assistant den leaders were still there. Harm did a quick head count. Ten adults and five boys. It was enough to get started, at least. Hopefully they'd find Brad pretty quickly, but if not, the local sheriff's office should be here soon to join in the search.

Harm glanced up at the sky and cursed under his breath. Storm clouds were gathering in the northwest. Rain would complicate the search considerably.

"All right, everybody. Listen up." Rich was standing on a bench so that everybody could see him. "Thank you for staying to help with the search. Hopefully, we'll find Brad quickly so that we can all be home for dinner." He looked around the assembled group. "One of us needs to stay here with the boys, which leaves nine for the search."

"Sir?" It was Ben.

"What is it, Ben?" Adult impatience tinged Rich's voice.

"Why can't we help?"

"You'll be safer here, Ben."

"But Brad's my friend." Ben turned to Harm. "Dad, you told me that in the military you never leave a man behind, right?"

Harm nodded.

"Well I don't want to leave Brad behind. I want to help."

Ben folded his arms across his chest with a determined glint in his eye and Harm felt a surge of pride. He turned to Rich. "We could use the extra eyes and ears…"

Rich considered that for a moment, and then turned to the boys. "Do all of you want to do this?"

They nodded eagerly, and Rich turned back to the rest of the group. "All right then. We'll do two adults and one scout in each group with the exception of one. I need somebody to volunteer to stay here at home base."

"I'll stay." Mac said. "Harm and I have survival and first aid training. He and Ben can search as a team, and I'll be here if one of the other teams finds Brad and needs help."

Rich looked to Harm for confirmation, then pulled out a map of the campground. "All right, let's divvy up the territory."

Each group of searchers was assigned a section of the campground and given a radio.

Harm looked at Ben. "Ready, son?"

"Yes, sir."

"Let's go, then."

It had grown increasingly cloudy while they'd been organizing the search, so they stopped at the car for rain ponchos and a flashlight. Harm grabbed the blanket they always kept in the trunk, slammed the hatch, and they headed out.

Part 4