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shot from those guns.”
    Her stomach did a slow flip.  
    Ten seconds passed before she spotted the first gun-wielding man, too far away, thankfully, for his bullets to damage. Another five seconds ticked by before she spied another one. He rounded the corner of the storage shed, and she recognized that he was close enough to kill even as she spied his ugly smile. Torie shuddered as he reached for his gun and brought it up. Her gun was pointed his way, her finger on the trigger, but she couldn’t quite manage to make her finger move. Callahan muttered a curse, his hand flew up, and his gun fired.
    A bullet hit the side of the helicopter at the same time a splatter of red appeared on the thug’s chest.
    Dear Lord, protect us. “Let’s go, Callahan. Hurry up. Take off.”
    He fiddled with some switches. “Almost.”
    Then Torie spied the man who’d killed Marlow running from the direction of the house. He had an automatic pistol in his hands and he approached them from her side of the helicopter, out of Callahan’s line of sight. Beyond his firing line.
    Oh, no. Oh no oh no oh no. The whine of the engine was high-pitched now. Surely they’d lift off any second. Be safe any second.
    The terror chilling Torie’s blood intensified when she got a good look at the gunman’s expression. Evil. Pure evil.  
    Running forward, the killer lifted his gun. Beside her, Callahan did something and the aircraft began to lift.
    A fusillade of bullets struck the copter. One punctured the passenger door and lodged in the seat, missing Torie by a fraction. Torie squealed and Callahan cursed. “Shoot the sonofabitch before he brings us down! Give us some cover.”
    She tried. She truly did. She pointed the gun, pulled the trigger, but couldn’t quite manage to keep her eyes open. More bullets hit the helicopter and Matt Callahan let out a string of vulgarly inventive curses. Torie clenched her teeth, pointed the gun, and pulled the trigger over and over and over. With the helicopter moving, her arm shaking, and her eyes closing each time, the chances of her aim being true ranged somewhere between slim and none. Then they were airborne, up and away, thank God. She sighed heavily. “We made it. I think we made it!”
    “You all right?” Callahan asked.
    Torie took stock. Except for her heart being lodged up against her back teeth, she believed she was okay.
    “Yes, I think so. I think so. And you? Are you okay?”
    “Got nicked, but it’s nothing.”
    She glanced at him and saw the streak of red that sliced across his temple. “That’s your head. You got shot in the head!”
    “It’s just a graze. I’m fine.”
    “But you’re bleeding!”
    “Yeah, hurts like a sonofabitch, too. However, bleeding like this under these circumstances is a good thing because it means I’m still alive.” Grinning, an adrenaline high glittering in his eyes, he spared her a glance. “We made it, Ms. Bradshaw.”
    She dropped her head back, closed her eyes, and took two deep, calming breaths. Thank you, God. And thank you, Double-Oh-Yeah.
    As she took a third deep breath in an attempt to slow her pounding pulse, something landed in her lap. A headset. Callahan had already put his on, blood dribbling down the side of his face. She donned her headset; then spying a box of tissues in the console between them, she grabbed one and dabbed at his wound. “Wouldn’t want liquid to short out your headphones,” she murmured.
    He accepted her ministrations without comment, his gaze on the gauges and dials in front of him. Torie settled back into her seat and steeped in the sensation of safety. What a day. What an awful, horrible day. She wondered how much longer it would last. “Where are we going?”
    “Aruba. The U.S. military has an FOL—Forward Operating Location—there and I figure that’s the safest place to stash you while I collect your sister.”
    “You’re still going after Helen?”
    “Of course. I gave your father my word. I need to