Thanks to everyone who took the time to review the last two chapters! I hope this next section doesn't disappoint. . .

And an extra thanks to Zak's-blood13, whose review gave me the first couple lines.

***

"You've got to be kidding me," said G. "Who uses grenades any more?"

"I do," said Groppman. "This one is a family heirloom. My father brought it back from Vietnam."

"Daddy's boy?" G asked him, keeping his attention as I eased to one side.

Groppman laughed. "Not hardly." He grabbed the kid by the upper arm. The boy flinched and tried to look over his shoulder, but Groppman forced him still, knocking off the baseball cap. "You," Groppman said, pointing his gun at me, "Stop. Both of you drop your weapons."

His clip was empty and I knew one of us could hit him without hurting the hostage, but we couldn't risk the boy fumbling the grenade--four seconds wasn't long enough to get him clear. Even so, we weren't standing down.

"No," I said.

"Hell, no," said G.

"Drop them, or I take the grenade away from junior and pitch it onto the bus." He smiled, like either way was good for him.

I tossed my gun behind me. I could see G trying to think of a way to keep his, but in the end, he set it down.

"Slide it here," said Groppman.

G kicked it less than halfway. "Come and get it."

"That wasn't very nice. Or smart. Let's go," he said, and shoved the boy forward. The son of a bitch was going for the gun. And when he got it . . .

G tensed, and I knew he was planning on jumping them. I could see only two ways it could work, and only one of those had G walking away. Maybe. If Groppman cooperated.

And like Nate says, crazy doesn't mean stupid.

But there wasn't anything else to do.

I took a last look at the bus to judge how much damage it would take if this didn't work. I could see two kids trying to help the driver, who was slumped out cold in her seat, and I heard a lot of the others crying.

Something seemed off about the noises they were making, but I couldn't figure it out and didn't know why it was important . . .until it registered that the bus was from the de Sales school.

And I was willing to bet Groppman hadn't noticed.

"G," I said, and he glanced at me. I nodded at the boy, who had mirrored G's attention and stopped. Groppman shoved at him said, "Don't try anything, kid, or I'll make you wish you hadn't." The boy moved, but kept watching me.

I made a fist and flicked two fingers at G. The boy shook his head and I did it again and once more before he nodded. They were almost there.

I held down three fingers and started a count.

Three, two, one—

The boy threw the grenade to G, who caught it and spun for the curb sewer drain.

I was already on my way to grab the kid and get him as far away as I could, but Groppman tossed him out of the way like a ragdoll and dove for G's gun--

The grenade went off.

I was thrown into Groppman, and we hit the ground hard--I made sure of that. I pinned him until I was sure nothing was coming down on my head. I could see the bus, which was intact and rocking just a little. But I didn't see G.

I sat up and saw G about ten feet away, kneeling next to the boy. G rolled him over, and I saw the blood. There was a lot of blood. And the kid wasn't moving.

I got to my feet, yanked Groppman up. He coughed and blinked at me, then looked past me. "Aw, too bad. Nice kid. But you guys are used to a little collateral damage, right?" He did this coughing chuckle and I hit him.

It wasn't enough, so I hit him again. And again. I went for another one, but G got in the way.

"Vance wants him alive."

"I don't give a good goddamn." And I didn't. I've never disobeyed an order, not as a SEAL, not as an agent, . . but this time . . this time I was going to put a killer--a child killer--down, with my bare hands. I was going to make him suffer--

G was hollering my name. "Sam--Sam! Look, damn it!" G yanked me around, and I saw the boy move an arm, put a hand to his head. "You have to tell him what's going on. Let go. Let go and tell that kid he saved the day. Let go!"

I didn't want to. It was damned close. Too damned close. . . but I let go and I walked away.

"Yeah, Sam." Groppman did this coughing laugh behind me. "Vance wants me alive."

"He wants you to be able to talk," I heard G say. "You know how much damage I can do before you can't? I'd be glad to show you."

I knelt down by the boy. He looked up at me and moved his fingers. Good . . . Throw?

Yes. Saved Us. I heard ambulance sirens coming closer. Name?

B . . .R-A-N . . .D-O-N. He pointed to me.

S-A-M. I grinned. You Hero. Brave.

He frowned. Scared. He started to cough, and there was more blood. Scared.

An Ambulance pulled around the bus and the EMTs jumped out. "Over here!" I yelled.

Me Too, I told Brandon before they moved me out of the way and started working on him.

Me, too.

***

One more chapter to pull it all together . . . I hope . . .