James Rodriguez

The customs official handed me a clipboard with a manifest.

I checked each item against what I'd seen loaded, noting weights and dimensions.

Then signed the bottom procedure before departure.

Always.

Wilson approached as I finished everything satisfactory.

Equipment looks comprehensive.

I handed back the clipboard.

Somewhat excessive for a two-week survey.

I prefer thoroughness.

His tone made clear the topic wasn't open for discussion.

The Zeppelin is already in Fiji.

Cessna caravan on amphibious floods should accommodate all essential equipment for the second leg.

I boarded the jet last, noting how the teen had arranged themselves.

Emily and Sarah sat together comparing notes on tablets.

David had spread botanical reference materials across his table.

Robert sat alone, staring out a window.

The security contractors occupied the rear seats.

Equipment between them.

Wilson took a single seat near the front, already engrossed in his phone.

I stored my bag and took an empty seat with sight lines to everyone.