Despite Dawkin’s ineptitude with the Baedeker Guide, we had, almost by chance, stumbled onto what might well be the second of the two structures we had been asked to demolish. But where was the first? And where was the bridge, the train?
         “What do you have to say for yourself, Dawkins?” I couldn’t help but query as I began to affix the charges.
         “I’ve been doing my best, Jenkins,” he said, seated now upon what oddly enough appeared to be a picnic table. “But this guide, it’s all Greek to me.”
         “Perhaps I might have a look,” I said, beginning to soften.
         But when I actually began to peruse the volume he had handed me, my mood shifted yet again.
         “Good God, man!” I exclaimed. “It is Greek!”
         “It’s not just me, then,” said Dawkins.
         “And just where,” I said, brandishing the Baedeker at him, “do you think we are?”
         After a few moments he ventured his guess.
         “Two continents off!” I couldn’t help but exclaim.
         He winced. Not knowing what else to do, I sighed and primed the charges. “Ah well, it’ll have to do,” I claimed. I shielded my eyes with my hand and scanned the horizon. “Go see what you can do about finding a first one,” I said. “There must be one around here somewhere.”