Chapter 4 - Separate Paths

Amanda crept along the railing toward the bridge, passing several dark compartments. Deep male voices rumbled forward from the back of the yacht, but she had no idea how many men were on board, or where they were. So far, she had seen the two. Her hands still shook from her battle with the porthole, and her aching muscles and strained joints nagged. I'm gonna be stiff tomorrow, she thought. If there was a tomorrow.

Thankfully, the rain had stopped.

Huddling in a dark doorway, she paused and listened. Silence. Great. Now she didn't know where they were. The sudden drum of heavy footsteps along the deck drove her inside the tiny room. The steps grew louder and louder, pounding with her heart's rhythm. Frantic, she looked for a place to hide. There! The little door beside the bed. She slipped inside, pulling it shut, just as the compartment door swung open.

Curled into the small space, she stilled her breathing and listened to someone shuffle around the room. She heard the bed creak, and the light flickered off, clothing her little haven in darkness. Amanda drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, trying to disappear. She needed to be silent, but her heartbeat was deafening, each thump a claxon--louder and louder.

Why couldn't they hear it?


Lee paced across the dark room with the mindless rhythm of a caged lion. His wayward thoughts darted in terrifying directions, with Amanda injured or dead at the end of each twisting path. They would catch her. She wouldn't be able to get to the radio. They would hurt her. She didn't have the right training. She had no backup ...

That was it, wasn't it? She was out there without him. He was supposed to be her watchdog, her protector, her . . . no, not her partner. Never that.

He whirled and pounded his right fist into the door, welcoming the pain. Why was she out there, while he was here? It couldn't happen again, could it? Lightening didn't strike twice, or three times. It wasn't right.

Cradling his aching hand against his chest, he slumped down with his back against the doorframe. This was what he had been afraid of all along. He might fail her.

Like he had failed Jacob.

And Dorothy ...

Forcing the pain and fear to the back of his mind, he inhaled and exhaled in a deep, even rhythm--calming his nerves, as he calmed his breathing. He concentrated on the tang of the salt air, the rolling motion of the boat, the damp breeze. Amanda was going to need him. Trying to keep the tenuous balance, he stood and pressed his ear against the door and listened. And waited. The paralyzing fear was pushed back--for now.

He had to be ready when opportunity presented itself.

He needed to believe that it would.


When the heavy breathing deepened into metered snores, Amanda eased the closet door open and crawled from her hiding place, the dirty carpet rough under her hands and knees. At least it muffled the sound. She slipped out onto the deck and huddled against the wall, just in view of the control room. Night was her friend, now; even the cloud cover helped. She was almost sorry to see the moon sliding out from behind the thunderheads.

There was Yuri, back-lit against the dim lights of the yacht's control panels. Now what? She was cold but tried to focus on her mission--just that. What would Lee do in this situation? She knew, without a doubt, that he would figure a way out. Lee was never paralyzed by fear. He would come through. He always did.

So would she.

After what seemed like an eternity, Yuri left the bridge and trudged toward the back of the boat. Waiting until his heavy footsteps faded, she eased into the room, trailing her fingertips across the charts and maps spread out on the table and over the slim metal briefcase that pinned down one tattered corner. Now all she needed was time.


Lee waited, listening to the whisper of the water rushing under the bow. No voices, no jarring noise marred the still night air. Everything was peaceful--and quiet. It would take hours to clear the Bay, but he knew there wasn't much time left for him. Or Amanda. His nerves stretched to the breaking point, waiting for the maelstrom.

Without warning, the storm broke.

Urgent, boot-clad footsteps broke his concentration, as they pounded on the deck. Shouting, too--angry and insistent. The vibrations died under his feet, and the persistent whine of the engines faded. They were stopping. Why? What was happening? Lee's heart broke as a woman's desperate scream cut through the angry thunder of male voices.

"Amanda?" he shouted, as he beat against the door with both fists. "Damn it, open this door!" After an eternity, the click of the padlock opening broke through the black fury, and he jumped back, hands balled into fists, ready to fight.

His body tensed to attack, every nerve raw, but the Russians stood back from the door. Boris gestured with his gun for Lee to step forward, while the other man covered him from a distance. He complied. He had no choice.

Stepping into the corridor, he didn't resist when he was pulled to the floor--face down against the rough deck. A knee pressed against his back, and his hands were jerked behind him and retied. Once secured, he was yanked to his feet and propelled toward the stern, the hard muzzle of a gun against his back.

The sailors pushed him onto the narrow bench at the back of the boat and tied his wrists to the railing. His worried gaze fixed on a crumpled form on the other side of the deck, and his fear built to a crescendo. Amanda lay on her side, her hands bound in front of her, and she wasn't moving. Tangled hair covered her face, and, in the ship's dim light, he couldn't tell if she was breathing. No . . . no, she was alive. She had to be.

Yuri blocked his view. "I ask it, only once. Who are you, and who do you work for?"

A familiar calm crept through his jangled nerves. In every confrontation, there were predators--and quarry. A predator would be unwise to allow the prey to smell fear. Lee stared into the man's beady eyes and forced a small, confident smirk. Bravado was his weapon now. He refused to allow his attention to wander toward the deck.

His smirk fell away when Boris stalked over to Amanda, with a grace that belied his size. Lee struggled against the ropes. No . . .

"Stop. Don't--"

He sucked in a horrified breath as Boris paused and smiled. Their eyes met, and Boris' smile broadened. Without breaking eye contact with Lee, he kicked her in the side, rolling her back against the railing.

Lee could almost feel the pain in his own ribs as Amanda gasped and tried to curl into a ball. Shaking his head, Boris bent over and swept her up in a bear hug. She faced Lee now, and he saw the blood dripping onto her collar from the reopened cut above her eye. As the man tightened his grip, she gasped again.

"Stop it. Leave her alone. She doesn't know anything." The words rushed out, and he couldn't seem to stop them. From predator to prey, in a single, tortured heartbeat. "Please, just leave her alone."

"I think you have feelings for this one . . . Yes, perhaps so," Yuri said. He leaned against the railing beside Lee. "You would like to talk to me now? Who was she talking to on the radio?"

Lee's heart jumped. She'd gotten to the radio. When Yuri turned on his heel and stalked toward Amanda, his relief gave way to anguish. The bastard reached out and caressed her face. Crushed in the monster's arms, she couldn't evade his touch. Lee's stomach rolled, out of synch with the gentle rocking of the yacht. When he fought free, he'd kill them. Painfully.

The little man trailed his fingers across her face, and then traced her jaw-line. She stared straight ahead. "Ah, if only we had more time. It could be a pleasure. Unfortunately, we don't. I ask you a last time, who do you work for?" His cheery tone was at odds with his expression.

Without waiting for an answer, he gestured to Boris, who dragged Amanda over to the bench next to Lee and held her over the railing. Her frightened eyes met his. The ocean, the yacht--the whole situation--faded, and his focus narrowed, until his whole world was in her eyes. There was hope there, and her faith in him shone like a beacon.

Misplaced faith. He had never felt so helpless in his life.

"Now how long do you think she will live in the cold water? How long will she fight to breathe? She weighs nothing, this one. How long before the cold steals the air from her lungs?"

A subtle movement drew Lee's eyes. Amanda's hands clenched and unclenched, working back and forth to loosen the ropes. Her hands were almost free. All she needed was time.

"Let us see," Yuri said.

"Wait, let me--" Lee choked.

At a snap of Yuri's fingers, Boris tossed Amanda over the railing.

"Wait ... Damn it! You can't--" Lee tried to follow her over the side, but his ropes held.

Boris swiveled a spotlight and directed the beam over the water. "You must have a good view, yes? Do you wish to talk now?"

Marshalling every ounce of strength, Lee kicked out, catching Yuri in the stomach, knocking the air out of him with a satisfying, "Oomph." Spinning, he tried to scissor his legs across Boris' thick knees and ended up dangling from the railing, his legs pinned under his fallen target.

The burly Russian knocked Lee's head against the bench until he stopped fighting. As he fought to stay conscious, Lee strained to hear the splashing behind him. He was dragged back up against the railing and given an unobstructed view.


Amanda hit the cold, black water hard--the sudden impact knocking the air out of her lungs. She struggled as she went under and kicked toward the surface. Sputtering, her head cleared the water, and then she started to sink again.

It was hard to stay afloat, with her sodden clothes pulling her down and her hands still tied. She'd loosened the knots while she lay on the deck, but they wouldn't come free. Gasping as her head broke the surface, she fought the panic, even as she continued to fight the rope.


With a cold terror, Lee watched Amanda struggle. This couldn't be happening. Yuri leaned over, winding his hands through Lee's tangled hair and jerking his head forward. "You talk now? Not much time left, I think."

Ready to promise anything, Lee paused as the splashing behind him ceased.

No!

He wrenched around as Amanda slipped beneath the waves. He waited, shocked into immobility, for several breathless seconds, as she seemed to hover just beneath the surface. A flash of white tennis shoe in the darkness, and her face broke the surface again. She looked straight up at him, and their eyes met for a moment, then she slipped beneath the dark water.

Without a trace. Not a ripple to mark her passing.

Lee held his breath, counting his own heartbeats, waiting.

A minute passed.

And another.

He stared at the still water in disbelief. Why didn't she fight free of the loose ropes? Where was she? It couldn't be over. Not like this. Amanda was too good, too strong, to die like this. He'd failed again--

"American women are weak. A Soviet woman would not have drowned so quickly." Boris slid a knife between Lee's wrists and slit the rope, then grasped one of his arms and motioned his compatriot to take the other. "We have no more time for these games. You will tell us who you work for. Now."

He saw his chance, and he took it, ramming his shoulder into Yuri's stomach and shoving him off balance. The knife clattered on the weathered planks, and Lee dove for it, using his momentum to roll into Boris' legs, upending the larger man and knocking him to the deck.

Scrabbling across the slippery surface, he dragged himself toward the knife, fingers outstretched. Just a little further. His fingertips kissed the hilt . . .

The knife was snatched away. Yuri sliced the air over his head and plunged the knife toward Lee's face. Lee swung his legs around and kicked out, catching the smaller man in the knees with both feet, knocking him back against the railing.

Yuri lost his grip on the knife. It skittered along the railing, teetered on the edge, and then slid into the ocean.

Lee pulled himself up along the bench and gripped the railing with both hands. The dark water glistened under the full moon. It didn't look inviting.

Boris pulled Yuri to his feet, and they both edged forward. Yuri reached one hand toward Lee, his expression bland. A cold smile creased his angular face, but there was no humor in his eyes. "You don't want to do that, do you? Wouldn't you rather speak with us? We just want to talk."

He had no choice, really. Lee reached down, pulled one of several battered lifejackets from under the bench, and tossed it over the side. Keeping his gaze on the two men, he reached for another. Before he could grab it, Yuri and Boris lunged toward him, guns drawn.

Now it was guns. No more games. Interrogation over.

Lee whirled and dove over the railing, piercing the icy water without a splash. Letting his momentum carry him away from the boat, he glided under the black swells, as bullets stung the water around him. He came up well away from the yacht, but, as the spotlight swept overhead, he was forced to slip back under the murky water.

How long would they search? Not long, it seemed.

He felt the vibration of the motor, just before he felt the kiss of bubbles brushing against his face. They were leaving. A final sweep of the spotlight drove him under again, and he watched the pale hull slice through the water above him. He stayed under as long as he could, until the need to breathe forced him to the surface.

"Amanda?" Breaking the surface with a shout, he spun around, unwilling to believe that she was gone.

A gentle bump against his legs took his breath away, and something cold and quick brushed against his back. Jerking away, he tried to look around, but the pale moonlight did little to illuminate the water. The unwelcome image of Dr. Mueller's bloated body floated to the surface of his scattered thoughts.

"Amanda! Damn it, where are you?"