Chapter 12
Back at the cabin, when the lights came on the 'leader' of the gunmen moved toward the door to pull Jaime inside...but she didn't come back. As the minutes passed, he began to pace - growing angrier with each step. ''Get out there and find her!'' he directed two of his men. ''And when you do...shoot her.''
Steve's barely-conscious mind registered the words 'shoot her' - and just as the door opened, the thunder roared again. Mark was watching as Steve began to stir restlessly. There was lemon (and ice, of course) in the kitchen but no way to get them. ''No...'' Steve mumbled restlessly. Then louder: ''NO! Not this time!'' Blood loss be damned (he couldn't feel much of anything), Steve dove toward the gunman - who fired a single shot that went wild in the momentary struggle, hitting Mark in the ankle.
Mark flinched but barely moved in his seat, his eyes still on Steve. Rudy tried to get up to help yet another injured friend...and was halted as the gun swung threateningly in his direction. The older doctor raised his chin defiantly and stared the gunman directly in the eyes. ''Shoot me if you have to - but both of my friends are bleeding and I will help them!''
''Don't move, if you'd like to keep breathing!'' the leader snarled.
Steve no longer saw either of the gunmen; his mind's eye showed him Grant Kingsley, reaching for Jaime with his evil intentions written clearly in the sneer across his face. ''I won't let you hurt her anymore!'' Steve seethed. The bleeding from his shoulder began afresh as he swung his right arm out from his vantage point on the floor, catching the leader's ankles with a sickening crack. As his 'boss' went down, the man by the door raised his own gun - and was hit in the face by a sofa pillow (thrown by Mark) and then felled by a well-aimed kick at his shin from Steve. Rudy moved quickly to grab both weapons and Mark hobbled into the kitchen for ice, lemon...and utility cord. He tossed the cord to Rudy who secured both assailants while Mark tended to Steve, easing him out of what had proven to be a life-saving flashback.
''Jaime...'' Steve murmured as he slowly returned to his senses.
''We'll find her,'' Mark promised (wondering how, exactly, they were going to do that).
''Can you help me drag these goons into the bedroom?'' Rudy asked. ''Then I want a look at that ankle.''
''I'm okay for now,'' Mark told him, nonetheless nearly falling as he first tried to put weight on his injury. Together, he and Rudy somehow pulled the trussed-up gunmen into the bedroom, retrieved Jaime's gun from Steve's suitcase and closed the door. Then as Mark sank down on the floor to check on Steve, Rudy made his own trip into the kitchen and returned with a large bag of ice wrapped in a towel which he laid across the younger doctor's ankle.
''That should slow the bleeding and at least numb it a bit; it's the best I can do for now,'' Rudy told him.
''Where's...Jaime?'' Steve asked again. ''Have to...find her...''
''You have to lie down and let us take care of you,'' Mark told him gently. Rudy placed a cushion under Steve's head and wished he could grow at least two more sets of hands. He wondered not-so-idly where the other two gunmen were...and if they'd found Jaime. So far, there had been no sign, one way or the other.
As if in direct answer to the question in Rudy's head (one that was shared by his two injured friends), a single gunshot sounded from somewhere out in the trees. ''Jaime!'' Steve exclaimed mournfully, sitting up to try for the door until blood loss forced him back down and into (merciful) unconsciousness.
Mark's eyes had opened wider to the sound...and Rudy hung his head in dismay. ''Dear God...they got her,'' he whispered. Then several more shots sounded in rapid succession and Rudy was grateful Steve was unable to hear them. When the cabin door burst open again, he fully expected to be shot himself.
Except...these men (while bearing their own guns) flashed badges instead of bullets. ''Interpol!'' the first one through the door announced. Finally the Cavalry had arrived! As the only one uninjured, Rudy told the agents that they could find the remaining assailants in the bedroom...then asked the only question that mattered for the moment.
''There was a young woman somewhere out there on the island. Did you...find her?'' (He prayed the Agents had found her before the gunmen had!)
''We found her,'' one of the Officers affirmed. ''But she wasn't on the island; she was in the water, nearly drowned.''