Tess Gerritsen - Never say die

One soldier, standing exposed below, went down at once. The others beat a fast retreat into the jungle. Two lay dead on the path, victims of the latest booby trap.

Welcome to the Stone Age, Rambo.

Guy held his fire as the attackers slipped out of view and into the cover of trees. He watched, waiting for any flash of movement, any sign of a renewed attack. A standoff?

He turned his gaze to the sky and searched for the choppers. To his dismay, they were moving away; already they had faded to mere specks. In despair he watched them slip away into a field of relentless blue.

Then, from below, he heard shouts in Vietnamese and saw smoke spiral up the cliff face, the blackest, most glorious smoke he'd seen in his whole damn life. The villagers had set the mountainside on fire!

Quickly he scanned the heavens again, hoping, praying. Within seconds he spotted them, like two flies hovering just above the horizon. Was it only wishful thinking, or were they actually moving closer?

A new hint of movement at the bottom of the cliff drew his attention. He looked down to see two figures emerge from the forest and approach the cliff base. Automatically, he swung his gun barrel to the target and was about to squeeze off a round when he saw who it was standing below. His finger froze on the trigger.

A man stood clutching a human shield in front of him. Even from that distance, Guy recognized the prisoner's face, could see her blanched and helpless expression.

"Drop it, Barnard!" The command of an unseen man, hidden among the trees, echoed off the mountainside. The voice was disturbingly familiar.

Guy remained frozen in the pose of a marksman, his finger on the trigger, his cheek pressed against the rifle. Frantically he wracked his brain for a plan, for some way to pull Willy out of this alive. A trade? It was the only possibility: her life for his. Would they go for it?

"I said drop it!" the disembodied voice shouted.

Willy's captor raised a pistol barrel to her head.

"Or would you like to see what a bullet will do to that pretty face''

"Wait!" Guy screamed. "We can trade-"

"No deals."

The barrel was pressed to Willy's temple.

"No!" Guy's voice, harsh with panic, reverberated off the cliff.

"Then drop the gun. Now."

Guy let the AK-47 fall to the ground.

"Kick it away. Goon!"

Guy gave the gun a kick. It tumbled off the ledge and clattered to the rocks below.

"Out where I can see you. Come on, come on!"

Slowly, Guy rose to his full height, expecting an instantaneous hail of bullets.

"Now come down. Off the cliff. You, too, Maitland! I haven't got all day, so move."

Guy made his way down the cliff path. By the time he reached bottom, Maitland was already waiting there, his arms hooked behind his head in surrender. Guy's first concern was Willy. He could see she'd been hurt; her shirt was torn and bloodied, her face alarmingly white. But the look she gave him was one of heartwrenching courage, a look that said, Don't worry about me. I'm okay. And I love you.

Her captor smiled and let the pistol barrel drop from her head. Guy instantly recognized his face: it was the same man he'd tackled on the terrace of the hotel in Bangkok. The Thai assassin-or was he 'Vietnamese?

"Hello, Guy," said a shockingly familiar voice.

A man strolled into the sunshine, a man whose powerful shoulders seemed to strain against the fabric of his camouflage fatigues.

Maitland took in a startled breath. "It's him," he murmured. "Friar Tuck."

" Toby?" said Guy.

"Both," said Tobias Wolff, smiling. He stood before them, his expression hovering somewhere between triumph and regret. "I didn't want to kill you, Guy. In fact, I've done everything I could to avoid it."

Guy let out a bitter laugh. "Why?"

"I owed you. Remember?"

Guy frowned at Toby's legs, noticing there were no braces, no crutches. "You can walk."

Toby shrugged. "You know how it is in army hospitals. The surgeons gave me the bad news, said there was nothing they could do and then they walked away. Shoved me into a corner and forgot about me. But I wasn't a lost cause, after all. First I got the feeling back in my toes. Then I could move them. Oh, I never bothered to tell Uncle Sam.

It gave me the freedom to carry on with my business. That's the nice thing about being a paraplegic. No one suspects you of a damn thing." He grinned. "Plus, I get that monthly disability check."

"A real fortune."

"It's the principle of things. Uncle Sam owes me for all those years of loyal service." He glanced at Maitland. "He was the only detail that worried me. The last witness from Flight 5078. I'd heard he was alive. I just didn't know how to find him."

He squinted up at the sky as the rumble of the choppers drew closer. They were moving in, attracted by the smoke from the cliff fire. "Time's up," said Toby. Turning, he yelled to his men, "Move out!"

At once, the soldiers started into the woods in a calm but hasty retreat. Toby looked at the hit man and nodded.’‘Mr. Siang, you know what to do."

Siang shoved Willy forward. Guy caught her in his arms; together, they dropped to their knees. There was no time left for last words, for farewells. Guy wrapped himself around her in a futile attempt to shield her from the bullets.

"Finish it," said Toby.

Guy looked up at him. "I'll see you in hell."

Siang raised the pistol. The barrel was aimed squarely at Guy's head. Still cradling Willy, Guy waited for the explosion. The darkness.

The blast of the pistol made them both flinch.

In wonderment, Guy realized he was still kneeling, still breathing. What the hell? Am I still alive? Are we both still alive?

He looked up in time to see Siang, shirt bloodied, crumple to the ground.

"There! She's there!" Toby shouted, pointing at the trees.

In the shadow of the forest they saw her, clutching the ancient pistol in both hands. Lan stood very still, as though shocked by what she'd just done.

One of the soldiers took aim at her.

"No!" screamed Maitland, flinging himself at the gunman.

The shot went wild; Maitland and the soldier thudded to the ground, locked in combat.

From the cliff above came shouts; Guy and Willy hit the dirt as arrows rained down. Toby cried out and fell. What remained of his army scattered in confusion.

In the melee, Guy and Willy managed to crawl to cover. But as they rolled behind a boulder, Willy suddenly realized her father hadn't followed them.

"Dad!" she screamed.

A dozen yards away, Maitland lay bloodied. Willy turned to go to him, but Guy dragged her back down.

"Are you nuts?" he yelled.

"I can't leave him there!"

"Wait till we're clear!"

"He's hurt!"

"There's nothing you can do!"

She was sobbing now, trying to wrench free, but her protests were drowned out by the whomp-whomp of the helicopters moving in. An army chopper hovered just above them. The pilot lowered the craft through a slot in the trees. Gently, the skids settled to the ground.

The instant it touched down, a half-dozen Vietnamese soldiers jumped out, followed by their commanding officer. He pointed at Maitland and barked out orders. Two soldiers hurried to the wounded man.

"Let me go," Willy said and she broke free of Guy's grasp.

He watched her run to her father's side. The soldiers had already opened their medical field kit, and a stretcher was on the way. Guy's gaze shifted back to the chopper as one last passenger stepped slowly to the ground. Head bowed beneath the spinning blades, the old man made his way toward Guy.

For a long time, they stood together, both of them silent as they regarded the rising cloud of smoke. The flames seemed to engulf the mountain itself as the last of the village men scrambled down the cliff path to safety.