What made Colombia famous

"I had a coffee this morning before leaving for the airport, Colombian of course, you know, to get me in the mood."

"Did you? I had a line of cocaine this morning. Colombian of course. You know to get me in the mood."

She looked at him for a second, before realisation dawned. "You're joking at me, very funny, but I have been doing the research, I even did an essay for College, what made Columbia famous."

He looked at her for a second, as if unsure whether or not she was joking. As he was about to speak he noticed a change to the notice-board. "Gate 21," he said. "Let's head over there, then grab some coffee before the flight. The coffee on board is dreadful, even if it is Colombian."

"I've sent my guns ahead of me," she said as they walked.

"What you taking?"

A 458 Lott, a 416 Taylor and a 505 Gibbs."

"Gibbs 505, nice. Perfect rifle for taking down a hippo."

"I got it for my eighteen birthday. Haven't had a chance to use it yet."

Eventually they were seated in the coffee bar across from Gate 21 and he began the speech he'd been rehearsing. "Hippos are serious business," he said. "They kill more people than any other animal, excluding humans. They're big, weigh up to three tons, have teeth big enough to bite your head off and a temper worst than a spoilt teenager. And they're fiercely protective of their territory. So when we get there I'll need you to follow everything I tell you."

"Was that a dig?"

"What?" he looked at her, genuinely perplexed. "I'm serious, this is big game hunting, it's a step up from anything you've done before. I don't even know what you're asking, was what a dig?"

"You know, spoilt teenager?"

"Listen to me. I don't judge. My line of work I can't. I've dealt with drug barons, killers, prostitutes, politicians, lawyers, the lowest of the low. I did a translation job once for a journalist. With the Lucky 7 killer - heard of him?"

"Nope."

"Any other country he'd be famous, but Colombia, well he's just another killer. Anyway, the guy raped and killed seven 7 year old girls, then he just walks into the police station and gave himself up. Kind of 'my work here is done'. Anyway, he insisted that the interviewer do seven interviews, his lucky number you understand, and proceeded to describe every rape and killing in the most gruesome detail imaginable. And I had to translate every single word of it. So taking an American girl to hunt a pest that's ruining the habitat of the Magdelena River, hell, I don't judge people for something like that. If you weren't rich you couldn't pay me, THEN I wouldn't like you."

"Sorry."  She seemed genuinely remorseful.

"So what did you say?"

"Say? When?"

"In your essay."

"Oh, I wrote about the drugs trade. I did quite a long section on Pablo Escobar, the most famous and richest drug-lord ever, worth $60 billion in today's money, how he built this enormous palace he called the Hacienda, which had its own private zoo, and that when he died his animals were sent to national zoos across Colombia, except for the hippos, who escaped and bred, there are now over a hundred of them running amok. With no natural predators the animals are causing havoc to the entire ecosystem."

"Very good. I can tell you've done your research. Yep, them hippos are a pest alright."

She said nothing in response, just looked at him strangely. Then, suddenly, she burst into tears and flung her arms around him, sobbing against his chest."

"What is it?" he asked softly, and tentatively.

"That bear."

"Oh."

"He was such a sweet thing, only it wasn't a he it was a she and she probably had cubs and everything."

"Hey, you were hunting. That's what Americans do. Bears are hardly the cute things you see in cartoons. Bears'll kill you. Tear a limb of you if you're lucky."

"I know. Only I'm not sure about the hippo. Do you climb?"

"Do I climb?"

"Only Mount Monseratte is really trending right now. It'd be my first proper mountain."

"We could do that," he said thoughtfully. "We'd need a completely different kit, but that's easily sorted. Actually I took a guy up there last year, spectacular place, not too tough a climb if you're young and fit. It's a good time of year to do it. I know a guide, local guy, he'll have a route, know where to get things."

Neither of them said anything, until eventually he spoke.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. I think I'm done with hunting."

"I guess there's plenty of others to take care of the hippos. You really just turned eighteen?"

"Yeah, last month, why?"

"You're growing up fast is all."