"Whoah there, easy gal, easy now," said Clint holding the horse's harness with his only hand. He steadied and led her over to the water trough where he tied her securely to the wooden paddock fence. A vehicle was approaching up the dusty track that wound up through the orchard and to the stable yard. The cloud of brick red dust it kicked up made it impossible to tell who it was. A not so gleaming anymore black Bentley pulled up. Clint took his ten gallon Stetson off and wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead, before replacing it, they immediately appeared again. The heat was blistering at this time of day. He strode over the scorched and cracked yard to the car as the driver got out and walked over to meet him.

"Can I help you?" said Clint.

"Are you Mr. Forrester? Clint Forrester?" asked the driver.

"That depends on who's asking?"

The tinted windows in the back of the car wound down and an old lady poked her head out peering over the top of her glasses.

"Mrs. Parker. Pleased to make your acquaintance Mr. Forrester."

"And what can I do for you ma'am?" asked Clint taking off his hat as a sign of respect.

"It's more a case of what you can do for me. Or rather what you can do for your country," replied the grey haired woman.

"Will I make lots of money?" asked Clint.

"Let's just say you and your family will never want for anything ever again. Can we go inside and talk?"

"Sure why not," said Clint and gestured towards the battered stable house.

The chauffeur opened the boot and got out a pretty beat up old wheelchair, he wheeled it to the door where the old lady was sat and opened the door. He gently scooped her up as if she was a doll, and with no strain visible on his face he placed her carefully into the seat.

She followed Clint to the house across the dusty yard. Clint entered the house and came out with three beers. Two in his good hand and the third in his armpit which he offered to Mrs. Parker.

"Can I have one of the others please?" she asked politely.

"Sure," Clint replied and handed one to her and another to the chauffeur who flatly, but kindly refused.

"Let's sit out on the porch under the verandah. Now what can I do for you?" said Clint.

"Are you content in your life right now? Or are you bored with your solitary life on this ranch?"

"Well my life is good now compared to how it used to be. Not very exciting that's the truth, but I'm happy. What's the deal?"

"I work for the government and I have an offer for you that you simply cannot refuse."

"Really? I'm interested to hear what you have to say, but it will have to be something special to get me on board."

"You know of General Leema?" asked Mrs. Parker.

"Sure," replied Clint coughing up phlegm and spitting it onto the dusty yard. "What an asshole! What's this got to do with him?"

"We are assembling a team to take him and his men down before he wipes out the world's leaders at the Moscow summit in two weeks time." Mrs. Parker grimaced as she slurped at her beer. It was not to the usual taste of which she had become accustomed to. "We want you to be part of that team. In fact we want you to lead that team. We've heard all about your heroics in the last Great War."

"What's the carrot you're dangling in front of me?" asked Clint.

"World wide fame for one and as monetary wise, you can name your price."

"Well that's certainly got my attention. How many others will there be in the team?"

"Five. You're the second I've recruited so far. So what do you say? I need an answer, time is of the greatest importance. I have others to contact. There are lots of details and arrangements to make, and the clock is ticking."

"Sounds like fun. I'm in," smiled Clint.

"Excellent. Welcome aboard. We will be in touch very soon with more information. Thank you Clint, we must leave now. Enjoy the rest of this beautiful day." Mrs. Parker smiled back.

Clint raised his beer, nodded, and watched the chauffeur put Mrs. Parker back in the Bentley and drive off in a cloud of dust.