Chapter 2

"Sam, wake up."

Yvette's voice whispered softly, and Sam's eyes flew open. Either he'd gone blind, or night had fallen. Then he realized he was just blindfolded. He felt hands touching him, one of them softly caressing the side of his face. The last thing he remembered was being hit by the butt of a rifle. He had no idea how many hours had gone by.

"Yvette?"

"Yes, Sam, it's me!" She pressed herself against him, against his shoulder, and he sucked in a breath. "I'm sorry! Did they break your arm?"

"No, just threw out my shoulder. Wouldn't be the first time, I'll be fine. Where are we?" He paused as he paid attention to the rhythmic up and down motion beneath his back. "We're on a boat, and it's moving."

"They're going to kill us and dump our bodies in the ocean, aren't they," she declared without a hint of a question in her voice. If anything, there was a deep-seated anger in the tone.

"Not if we can get free. Are you still taped up?"

"Yes, but I've been spending my time wisely. I found a sharp object and I've been tearing the tape." She snorted. "These guys really are stupid. If they wanted to keep us secure, they should have used something besides duct tape."

Sam laughed. "Good point. When you get free, can you help me?"

"I'm right on it." With a little grunt, she pulled her hands apart and the last of the tape fell away. "Just have to get this...blindfold...off. Wow, it's really dark in here. It must be night."

Yvette removed the blindfold that pressed into his eyes, and the tape wasn't far behind. He carefully moved his right arm, being wary of the condition of his shoulder.

"Here, let me help you sit up, Sam."

"Thanks. What I really need is a good place to pop this shoulder back into place." A small gasp escaped him. "It really hurts." He got to his feet and found a wall, then walked the perimeter until he determined that the room they were in was very small. A post in the center was adequate for what he was about to do. "Now, I'm probably gonna make a really nasty sound, but don't worry. It'll be a lot better afterwards."

He wasn't kidding. When he made impact with the post and yelled, Yvette covered her ears. She sat on the floor, huddled over her knees, horrified and scared for him. After a few moments, his breathing evened out, and she realized that he was okay. In the dimness she saw him wandering around the room like a caged tiger looking for a way out. She was incredulous. Only moments before he was in such pain, and now it seemed as if nothing had ever happened. Yvette jumped to her feet and approached him, laying a gentle hand on his wounded shoulder.

"Sam...are you sure you're okay?"

"Yep. Never better, if you don't take into account that we're being held against our will. This hold has to be about six by eight feet. Empty of everything but us. And that door is solid." He pressed his ear against it and listened, but he heard nothing. "I can't be sure if anyone is on the other side." He let out a frustrated grunt, met Yvette in the middle of the room where she sat, and settled next to her. "It's okay, we'll get out of here."

"How?"

"I'm workin' on it. And hopefully by the time these guys decide to feed us to the sharks, I'll have something in mind."

No sooner were the words out of Sam's mouth, than the door opened and two men entered. A light from the hallway blinded the captives, and they held up their hands against the glare.

"They're loose!" Hands grabbed them and roughly pulled them to their feet. Yvette tumbled into the narrow hall and her guard reached down to pick her up.

Sam took advantage of the distraction and kicked the guy in the side with enough force to send him sprawling over Yvette's legs. She screamed, squirmed, and kicked him away as Sam hauled off a left hook that took down his guard. For good measure, he kicked him out of the way and grabbed the fallen man's gun.

Forgetting about his shoulder which, truth be told, still ached, Sam reached for Yvette with his right hand. "Come on! Let's go!" The pain set him off balance for a moment. "Pull yourself up, Yvette! I can't carry you!" She pulled against Sam's arm, careful not to cause any more harm. "Now let's get up on deck and see if we can make a break for it."

They took the stairs two at a time and emerged topside. The sun was setting in the west, and they were several miles from Miami. Far enough to make it difficult if not impossible to swim, but close enough to see the high rise office buildings and hotels. With Sam's sore shoulder, he would find it more in the impossible range. They needed the lifeboat. Footsteps thumped on the deck, and they turned to face three men with guns drawn.

"Yvette get behind me!" Sam lifted his weapon and fired on them. One, two, three, they went down. Another came from the port side and fired at him. Yvette screamed and ducked, pulling Sam down with her. His shot went wild, and the concussion of hitting the deck forced the gun out of Sam's hand so it skittered across the space between him and the assailant who quickly closed in. Sam rolled onto his stomach and reached out for the gun as the man stepped on it and slid the weapon just out of his way. Desperate, he reached for a pant leg and pulled hard enough to displace the man's balance. A gun went off. Sam felt a hot wisp scratch his back as the bullet barely missed him and embedded itself into the deck.

Another gun went off near his ear, nearly deafening him. The last man standing between them and freedom fell hard on the deck, a hole seared into his chest. Sam pushed himself to his hands and knees and turned toward Yvette.

"Sam...I did it...that...I shot him!" Yvette's eyes registered her disbelief.

"Yeah, you did. I didn't know you could shoot."

She smiled. "Fiona taught me."

"I should have known," Sam replied with a grin. "Let's find the lifeboat and get out of here." He picked up a gun and grabbed her hand with his free one, and together they fought the rolling of the deck as they hurried to the stern.

"Oh my, Sam...I feel like I'm in the middle of a rerun," she declared as they neared the small boat.

"Only this one's going to end a lot differently."

"Good or bad?"

"Good, if we don't stick around here and jaw about it! Let's go!" He untied the stays that kept the boat from dropping from the cruiser. He and Yvette got inside, and working together, they lowered it into the water. Just as it hit a wave, the men they left unconscious down below deck came up a set of back stairs and sprayed a haphazard stream of bullets at them. "Get down, Yvette! Get down!" He returned fire until his clip ran out, while Yvette started up the engine. He threw the gun overboard and she kicked the engine into gear before handing over the helm. More gunfire peppered the water around them, but Sam was too focused on his goal to get them safely to shore.

Eventually, the sound of gunshots died in the breeze, and they were clear of the boat. He took one look back and saw the pinpoints of the running lights on the boat and a searchlight that someone turned in their general direction. The boat was following them heading west, but he hoped they had enough of a lead to make it difficult for them to catch up.

"Sam, we've got a problem."

"What? What's the problem?" He returned his attention to the front of the boat where Yvette knelt. She used her hands to bail out water that came in through the bottom.

"We've got a leak somewhere."

"Just keep bailing. I'll get us to shore." He sounded so cool and collected, but inside, he was anything but. The Miami shoreline was getting ever closer. They just needed to get near enough to make some noise and attract attention to get help. He wished his captors hadn't emptied his pockets, because a cell phone would have been really good to have right about now. A quick call to Mike, and their problem would be solved.

They were close enough to see people walking along the beach two by two, romantic couples enjoying the salty night air and the warm ocean water on their feet. It reminded Sam of dinner the night before. He could hardly believe that was only 24 hours ago, because it seemed as if what they'd been through had lasted for a week. His musings were cut short by the whistle of a bullet as it whizzed past his head, followed closely by another.

"Sam, they're gaining on us!"

"I know! I've got this throttle full out!"

They heard a distinct pop, followed by air escaping from the inflatable side. "No!" Yvette screeched and tried to cover the spot with her hand, but it was useless. "Sam, what are we..."

Sam abandoned his position at the engine and crawled forward just as a second shot zipped past him. More bullets followed. He hadn't been in a one-sided gunfight like this in a long time. He was close enough to reach out and grasp Yvette's hand, but she jerked and slipped away. Her body fell backwards over the side, head first.

"Yvette!" Sam took a deep breath and slipped into the water after her. He dove deeper and deeper, searching frantically in the darkness. Something brushed his fingers, but it was out of his reach in an instant. He could hold his breath for a long time, but he was getting close to three minutes and losing hope. He touched bottom, and there he found something soft. Yvette's body.

He pulled her close against himself and used his free arm to swim to the surface. Spots danced behind his eyelids. If he didn't break the surface soon, he wouldn't be of much use to her or himself. When his hand broke the plane, quickly followed by his wrist and arm, he thrust his head out and opened his mouth wide to suck in a healthy breath. As he brought Yvette to the surface, he looked around. The boat was heading up the coast, away from them, and somehow they traveled a good distance from it. Sam suspected that they got impatient after a couple minutes and took off, thinking their mission was accomplished.

One thing Roche's men didn't count on was the fact that all the shooting got some attention from the shore. As Sam floated with Yvette still wrapped in his arm hold, he saw a small police boat speed across the waves with lights flashing and siren blaring, heading for the retreating boat. Another was close behind. If he could just get their attention...

"Hey! Over here!" He tried waving his arm, kicking his legs furiously to keep them afloat. What he wouldn't give for a flare gun at that moment! The boat sped past with only about 50 yards between them. "Hey!" He went down, then sputtered coming back up. He had no choice but to swim for the shore. Yvette wasn't moving or breathing from what he could tell. If he could just get her far enough in where he could stand, he might be able to start resuscitation efforts while he hauled her to the beach. She was right, this was like a rerun, but not like the first time. This time, Sam was afraid he would fail her.

"Hey mister!"

Sam turned his head and almost got a mouthful of salt water as he gaped at the speedboat that drifted up to them. "Thank God! Where'd you come from?"

"We followed the cops out of the marina," the young man steering the boat replied as he leaned over the side and reached for Yvette. "Couldn't believe they ran right past you, man."

"It doesn't matter. Just...just take her." He was starting to run out of gas.

Two other men reached down and pulled Sam out of the water. "Ahh, watch the shoulder!"

"Sorry, dude."

The driver and a woman settled Yvette on the deck while Sam worked the pain out of his shoulder.

"She's not breathing. Oh my god, she's been shot!" The woman exclaimed and backed away as Sam pushed her aside.

"Don't worry about that, just get us to shore. And somebody call for an ambulance!" He leaned over Yvette. Blood seeped from a hole in her upper arm, just a flesh wound basically. But she wasn't breathing, and that worried him the most.