“Timber!” was the only warning before danger struck. Without much delay, two leafy giants came down upon the earth. Crekkkk…crash!      “Wree wree wree!” The raucous cry of birds rang out among the dense rainforest landscape, as they fled from the terror of the metallic monsters tearing it down. Not long afterwards, the whir of the engines suddenly ceased. The various ‘reapers’, as they’re called by our crew, had been cutting through the humid chaos of vegetation for so long, I was taken off guard by the silence without them.   That wasn’t a good sign. We were scheduled to harvest four more acres before sundown, and the fiery orb already dipped below the tree line. Moments later, I spotted Billy, as he hustled up to my hilltop perch.   “Er, there’s a complication with our route, boss.  The path’s blocked, since the tree we felled brought down another one alongside it.” he stated. Billy was the go-to guy when any of the machinery failed, but other situations left him, and others, uncertain of what to do next.    That’s why I was there: I knew that labyrinth of trees, and had a knack for getting around such ‘complications’. As foreman of the sector, I was the one responsible for resolving problems and ensuring the task’s completion.        “First, get the ‘dozers to push the second tree out of the way; remove branches if necessary. Take the reapers and trucks through on the dirt track until you reach the next marked patch. Keep some men here to cut up the other tree, and use it for fires tonight.”      “Yes, sir,” Billy replied promptly, as he slipped back to the logging party and assigned everyone a job. That being said, I had to fill out the daily harvest forms before it became too dark to write. Our pay was based on how much wood we cut per day, which was never enough for ol’ Eduardo Santos. He was the cruelest man I’d ever met. Working all day in that miserable wilderness was paradise compared to facing Santos’ cold fury. It was an experience I didn’t need, especially with my family on the line. My income was the only support for my wife and two kids, Jorge and Ana. Everything I did was for them. Living in the rainforest, far from my darlings in Mexico, working my employees to the bone, and letting others control my life was what I had to tolerate to get the job done and help those I love.        Sitting around a roaring bonfire that night, swatting at mosquitoes, eating top ramen, I worried about the future of my beloved Esmeralda and our kids. Out there, I could’ve only communicated with people Santos allowed me to, not including my family. I fretted about potential discovery by the media, activists, anybody; I knew that this whole operation could’ve be shut down at any moment. My fear grew to anger; I couldn’t help but hate those who would’ve stripped me of my job, my life, and my family if given the chance. Soon falling asleep, these thoughts turned my dreams dark.       Late at night, I was in my tent, and my worst adversaries were right outside. Coming in the cover of darkness they struck: sabotaged the equipment, rendered the supplies useless. Those dirty thieves plundered dynamite and flares, pinched my logging files along the way. Already I knew who these minions of the modern world were, even without light or loud noise. Everyone in my business knew “Free Trees” the environmentalists, widely feared for their direct approach in taking away our jobs. As I knew none of it was real, my half-functional mind should’ve moved on, but this dream didn’t go away.   Rubbing my eyes, the realization dawned on me: it was no fantasy, the nightmare was real! Desperately, I kicked the crew into overdrive before the bandits escaped with my future in hand.    “Everyone up! We’ve got a code red situation: stop “Free Trees” before they get away! Come on, we all know what’s at stake here, so go, go, GO!!!” I bellowed at the top of my lungs.       “Oh man, what in the world is going on?” questioned a logger just waking up.    “Hey, how did they get here?”    “To the trucks, we must catch them!”    Alerting the team alerted the intruders, too. I barely glimpsed them escaping the campsite on ATVs faster than I could’ve said what that stood for. Literally dragging my bewildered men into the back of a beat up pickup, Billy gunned the engine so fast I thought he’d break the pedal. Barking out more commands, I steered others after the extreme naturalists, away from the yellow glow of lanterns lighted back at camp. I just prayed that this old bucket of bolts would catch up in time.     Similar to a lighthouse beacon, the jalopy’s headlights zipped over undergrowth like waves in the ocean. Already, capturing our adversaries was a humongous challenge, now all the more so as I’d lost visual contact. After twenty adrenaline-packed minutes of driving, all clues as to their location or destination disappeared, which showed just how crafty and dangerous to our corporation Free Trees was. Suddenly, it became clear why they got away: in my haste, I forgot to have each truck look in a different area! Instead, staying together and plowing straight through the thick growth made us stand out. Anyone could’ve easily evaded that. Argh!   “Screeeechh!” Jolted forward in my seat, Billy slammed on the brakes not a second too soon; drowning in the Amazon wasn’t the last item on my bucket list. With no time to waste, I formulated a plan.     “Okay everyone, we’ve gotta work as a team to catch these eco-crooks. Take radios and report anything even remotely strange to me at once. Tzu, take your truck and five others, and fan out in the area south of the river. Leave no leaf undisturbed.”      “It will be done immediately,” came his reply.  “As for the rest, follow me to a ford just a little ways upstream; we can cross the river from there. Don’t stop looking ‘til you find ‘em, or else you-know-who is going to be furious.”      As the day broke, we returned to camp demoralized by weariness and frustration, without our targets, more exhausted than after a long shift working with the reapers. Then I realized that I should’ve reported the incident much earlier, knowing there was no way to avoid contacting Santos. Tuned into my employer’s private frequency, I braced for whatever came next.     “Riiiiiing,” then a pause, in line with my heartbeat.  “Riiiiiing.” I took a deep breath.    “Riiiiiing. Nice to speak with you again,” started Santos; the chilling tone filled me with dread.  “Y-yes, you too sir, I-”      “Hmph, let’s cut the small talk. I am aware of “Free Trees’” recent engagements. My inside agent has uncovered pre-prepared plans for this raid, including its timing right before a campaign to boost their international influence. In no way can my company afford to be exposed. I am willing to take whatever actions are necessary to dispose of the current threat. Are you?”    Pushing unease aside, I answered “yes” to secure my continued employment.     By midday, a chopper arrived to pick me up. Whooshing great gusts almost blew me off my feet as the screaming flying machine descended. Strolling off the platform was a man wearing an odd mix of shades, a straw hat, and a business suit. Crumpled papers in one hand and a fat wad of bills in the other, that man clearly commanded fear and respect. Appointing Tzu to run the show at camp, Santos whisked me away and explained his strategy.   Frankly, I couldn’t decipher where we were headed, since there were no passenger windows and the din of the rotors was intense. After several hours, the whir slowed and the chopper touched down. Emerging to be met by a limo, we were soon speeding through the dark streets of an unfamiliar city towards the well-guarded headquarters of “Free Trees”. In advance, our operative shut down the security for twenty five minutes, so our people had to work swiftly. The objective was simple: get in, destroy all the evidence, and get out. Santos himself hacked the mainframe, drained all their funds to ours.   Frantically, I deleted computer memories and smashed hardware, but I didn’t get very far. Just then, the door unexpectedly opened, revealing figures I assumed were “Free Trees” executives! Seems that there were traitors on both sides.       “Who are you? What are you doing here without our permission?” demanded one of the men.   “Everyone, take what you can! We must escape!”  While everyone else shouted and fought, I kicked a water cooler over onto a machine, resulting in a crackling electrical fire that consumed all the evidence.   In the midst of all this, the door exploded in a barrage of gunfire. After that, the situation only got worse. Swarming in with weapons drawn, police and SWAT teams generated even more noise and confusion as they took everyone by storm. As I later discovered, shutting down the building’s security systems triggered a silent alarm at the sheriff’s office. My last thought before somebody tackled me was “What the…” Thud!      I came to; found myself cuffed in the state detention center. Complete starkness and uniformity were such a contrast to the lush jungles that served as home. Astonishingly, “Free Trees” men were also behind bars, their own illegal methods scoring them time! Now, everyone was in the same boat. So ironic, that two opposing organizations fell together, like those two trees only yesterday, but that felt like a lifetime ago. I had a new life. It was a life without my family.