Carolyn POV


I was pretty pissed off at myself for getting snagged. It was downright shameful. But I had been focused on Quarles because I thought he was up to something, and the next thing I knew, I was being dragged backwards with a stinky rag over my mouth and nose.

I woke up jammed in the front seat of a pick-up between two people, laying on my back, with my legs on one of the passenger. My head was pounding and my heart was racing and my first thought was of Mike. He was going to be kicking himself in the ass, of that I had no doubt.

And then panic hit me for a minute. Panic that I would never see him again. That I would end up somewhere in Pisgah just like Pete Walker and Scott Hannigan.

I forced those thoughts from my head. I had to channel my energy and work on a plan. I had no idea where these two guys were taking me, but I was for damn sure going to make it as difficult as possible.

I was facing toward the passenger, so I was able to get a pretty good look at him. I opened my eyes just a fraction and looked up through my lashes. I didn't want him to know that I was awake yet. Twenty-something, white, blue stocking cap, thin face. Unremarkable and yet he seemed vaguely familiar. I was betting I had spoken with him about Pete Walker's disappearance. He sat leaning towards the door and drummed his fingers on the dashboard.

I closed my eyes fully again and wiggled around a little, making a moaning noise. I needed to feel if I still had my gun.

"She waking up?" the driver asked.

"How the hell am I supposed to know?"

"Look at her, dumb ass." Okay, so the driver was the brains of the outfit. That meant the passenger would be the easier target. Of course, we were in a moving vehicle so I had to work on that aspect as well.

"She looks asleep to me." The drumming resumed.

I took a chance and looked again. I could see quite a few trees flying by, so I was pretty sure they weren't taking me in the direction of Asheville. If I could get the truck stopped, I could make a break for the trees. And I had my gun. It was under my zipped-up parka, so I would never get it out quickly, but if I could get a lead on them I might have a chance.

But I didn't want to stage an escape only to realize that the drugs were still affecting me, so I went through a few mental exercises to make sure the fog had cleared. Sternberg's Triarchic Theory of Intelligence…the Einstein-Podolosky-Rosen paradox…the top twenty-five techniques to kill a man with your bare hands…okay, yeah, I was good.

Next, I went through a rundown of my plan in my head.

And then I carried it out.

I reached up and grabbed the steering wheel and pulled down hard, jerking the truck to the right. As passenger guy looked towards me, I caught him with a knee to the nose. Very sensitive place, the nose.

The driver guy jammed on the brakes, which is the typical response. Then he reached for my hand in an effort to get me to let go of the wheel. I grabbed his instead and twisted his hand around so that he was left with two choices: submit, or a broken wrist. I broke his wrist.

When I heard the snap, I immediately followed up with a second kick to the passenger's nose. By this time, the truck had rumbled to a stop. I crawled over top of the howling passenger and got out the door.

I could hear them shouting at me and at each other, and in a few seconds I heard a couple of shots ring out, but they were too late. I was in the trees. I didn't slow down, my adrenaline keeping my legs pumping over the rocky terrain.

After a few minutes, I stopped long enough to pull out my gun and my cell phone. I figured I had enough of a lead that it was worth the ten seconds of hesitation. Of course, my cell had no signal, but I left it turned on and stuffed it into my parka pocket for easy access later. I kept my gun in my hand, and took off again.

I wondered how far behind Mike was, or even if he had any idea where I was. I had no memory of what had happened in Pisgah after I'd felt that cloth over my face. Had they hurt him or Bobby or Alex? Was Jack really involved in this mess? Who was shooting from the other direction out there in the forest?

I tripped on a root and went down on my knees. Damn, Carolyn, pay attention. The fabric on one of my pant legs tore open, exposing my now-bloody knee. I cursed myself again, but pressed on.

I could hear the two guys still behind me. They were making plenty of noise and were still far enough away to ease my immediate concern. I kept going until I was pretty sure I was about a mile into the trees, and then I stopped. I settled my thundering heart and slowed my breathing. I still remembered how to walk through the trees without making a sound, so that's what I did, looping around wide to the left.

After a minute or so, I heard the men, fairly close, but adjacent to me rather than behind. They stopped, but were looking ahead in the direction they assumed me to be.

"We're never going to find her," the passenger said.

"We have to find her. You heard what the boss-man said," the driver replied. I enjoyed the fact that he was holding his right wrist tightly against his body. Serves him right.

"I don't think there's any way she knows what's going on."

"Well, he doesn't pay you to think, does he?" Yeah, because wouldn't that be a rip-off?

I debated for a moment which one to shoot. I would probably only get off one shot. The best candidate was the driver because he appeared to be, marginally, the smarter of the two. But he also had an injured wrist, and considering the awkward way he was holding the gun in his left hand, he was right-handed.

I made my decision, and set my sites on the passenger. Dumb or not, the fact that he could fire a gun with his dominant hand made him more dangerous.

I took the shot and then ducked back behind a tree. The sound ricocheted through the forest and I hoped he would have trouble pinpointing my exact location. I hadn't watched long enough to confirm that the passenger had gone down, but I know I'm a pretty good shot.

"Buddy!"

"Shit, man. I'm shot." I guess Buddy had survived. Good. I didn't really need to kill him. I just didn't want him to keep coming after me.

"Come on out, bitch. You know we're gonna get you!" But I couldn't hear any steps coming toward me. They still weren't sure where I was and they were afraid I was going to take another shot. Good idea.

I peeked out from behind the tree, keeping my head low to the ground. No one ever expects someone to look from behind something at a height other than average human height. So the trick when doing a quick-check is to either go higher or lower. I wasn't up for climbing a tree at the moment, so I went with lower.

The passenger, Buddy, was down on the ground. He was gripping his right arm with his left and the upper portion of his jacket was stained with blood. Nice job, Carolyn. I had neutralized the use of his dominant hand, too.

The driver was standing over him, looking frantically in my general direction, but he was still scanning a decent-sized area. The shot had taken him by surprise, so he wasn't completely sure from where it had come.

I stayed low on the ground and aimed my weapon. I took a deep breath and went through my routine. BRAS-F. Breath, relax, aim, squeeze, follow-through.

His right arm was already disabled because of the broken wrist, so I went for the leg. And I got him. He dropped to the ground, screaming in agony.

I felt another rush of adrenaline course through me. It made me not notice the cold or my sore knees. I got to my feet, and with my gun still trained on the two men, I carefully approached them. Neither of them made a move to retrieve their weapons. When I got close enough, I kicked their guns clear of their reach.

"Now start talking unless you want me to shoot you again," I told Buddy, since the driver was still yelling.

"Who the fuck are you?" he asked. "Slater didn't tell us you were going to be pulling all this G.I Jane shit on us. Damn."

"Slater? So he's the one that sent you after me?"

"Shut up, Buddy!" the driver wailed.

"No, he's not going to shut up. You're going to shut up," I said, jamming the nose of my .45 into his forehead. "Keep talking, Buddy."

"Yeah. Slater. He told us to take care of you."

"Is Quarles in on it, too?"

"The cop?"

"Yeah, the Asheville cop."

"I don't know. I don't think so."

"What about the others back at Pisgah. Did you do anything to them?"

Buddy didn't answer right away and my heart jumped into my throat. My fear for Mike and my friends pushed me into action, and I used the butt of my gun to whack him on the back of the head.

"If you make me ask you again, I'll just kill you right fucking now."

"Nah, man, I swear. Slater just told us to get you."

I thought I believed him. But I wasn't sure. And then I heard it.

"Carolyn!"

It was Mike's voice. I choked down a sob of relief and called back to him. In a matter of minutes, he and Alex and Bobby came into view. When they saw that I was holding the two men at gunpoint, Alex and Bobby ran up to take over. Mike just ran straight to me.

He grabbed me up into his arms, pulling me off of my feet, and hugged me tighter than ever before.

"Oh thank God, baby. Thank God you're okay," he said roughly, his voice wracked with emotion. I couldn't even say anything at all. I was afraid one word would start a whole flood of emotion and I couldn't deal with that right now.

Alex bent down and checked the pockets of the two men while Bobby held his gun on them.

"Lookie here," she said as she pulled a wad of cash out of Buddy's pocket. She smelled it. "Fifties that smell like bleach."

Mike was still holding me off the ground, but he finally relaxed enough to set me down. He put both hands on my cheeks.

"You're okay?" he asked again as he looked intently into my eyes. His concern was palpable. "They didn't hurt you?"

"I'm fine. I promise. They were idiots. They didn't check for a gun."

"Thank God for puffy coats."

"It looks like she's the one that hurt them. Damn, Carolyn, what did you do?" Alex asked with a bemused look. I looked at the two men and just shrugged.

"I got information," I told them. "It's Slater. He's the one that ordered them to kill me."

TBC...