"The man can shoot. Meanwhile, where's the cell phone?"

She rummaged around her jacket and pants pockets again and announced, "It must have fallen out of my pocket when we were rolling. Damn it."

We both stared out at the brush-covered slope in front of us, but there was no way to know where the phone was, and for sure neither of us was going to go searching for it.

So, we sat there, listening for the sound of someone moving toward us. In a way, I hoped the bastard was coming for us because I knew he'd have to come around the boulder or over the top of it, and we'd hear him. I wanted at least one shot at him. But if he circled wide, we wouldn't see or hear him, and he had the rifle with the scope. I suddenly felt less safe on this side of the boulder, knowing that Khalil could be circling around into the bushes we'd just come from.

She said, "Sorry about the phone."

"Not your fault. I guess I should get a cell phone."

"Not a bad idea. I'll buy one for you."

A helicopter flew by, about a quarter mile away, but he didn't see us, or sense us-or Khalil-with whatever sensing device he had. Neither did Khalil fire at him, which would have been an easy shot. This led me to believe that Asad Khalil was gone-or, Mr. Khalil was holding his fire because he really wanted me. Now there's an upsetting thought.

Anyway, I'd had enough of this bullshit. I got out of my jacket, and before Kate could stop me, I stood quickly and waved the jacket to my side, like a matador messing around with the bull's horns. Unlike a matador, however, I got rid of the jacket real quick as I ducked behind the boulder, just in time to hear the little buzz that ventilated the jacket and snapped some branches off to our side.

Before Kate could yell at me, I said, "I think he's still in the treeline."

"And how do you know that?"

"The shot came from that direction. I could tell by the buzzing and the impact, and there was a half-second delay, like he was still a hundred yards away."

"Are you making this up?"

"Sort of."

Well, back to the game of nerves. Just when I thought Khalil was winning, Mr. Steely Assassin became frustrated and started shooting again. The prick was amusing himself by firing chip shots across the top of the boulder and shards of stone were spraying into the air, and falling down on us.

He fired a full magazine, then reloaded and began firing on either side of the boulder so that the strike of the rounds was just inches from our tucked-up legs. I watched, fascinated, as the pebbly earth exploded into little craters.

I said to Kate, "This guy is an asshole."

She didn't reply, mesmerized by the flying dirt around us.

Khalil then shifted his aim closer to the sides of the boulder, and the guy was good, just skimming the sides inches from our shoulders. The boulder was getting a little smaller. I said to Kate, "Where'd he learn to shoot like that?"

She replied, "If I had a rifle, I'd show him how to shoot." She added, "If I'd had a vest, I wouldn't be bleeding."

"Remember that for next time." I took her hand and squeezed it. "How you doing?"

"Okay… it's hurting like hell now."

"Hang in there. He'll get tired of playing with his gun."

She asked me, "How are you?"

"I have a new wound to show the girls."

"How'd you like another one?"

I squeezed her hand again and said, stupidly, "His and her wounds."

"That's not even funny. This fucking thing is throbbing."

I untied her jacket, put my hand around her back, and gently felt the exit wound.

She let out a cry of pain.

I said, "It's starting to clot. Try not to move and break the clot. Keep holding the entry wound with the handkerchief."

"I know, I know, I know. God, this hurts."

"I know." Been there, done that. I retied the jacket around her waist.

Khalil had another idea and started firing at the smaller rocks around us, causing ricochets, like a pool player trying to make a shot from behind the eight ball. The rocks were sandstone, and most of them shattered, but now and then Khalil got his ricochet, and one of the rounds actually struck the boulder above my head. I said to Kate, "Tuck your head and face between your legs." I added, "Persistent little bastard, isn't he?"

She tucked her head between her knees and said, "He really doesn't like you, John. You've inspired him to new levels of creativity."

"I do that to people."

All of a sudden, I felt a sharp pain in my right thigh, and I realized he'd gotten me with a ricochet. "Damn!"

"What's the matter?"

I felt where the hot round had hit me and discovered a tear in my pants and a rip in my flesh. I felt around the ground near my thigh and found the still-warm distorted bullet, which I held up. "Seven point six-two millimeter, steel jacketed, military round, probably from an M-14 modified as a sniper rifle with interchangeable night and day scopes, plus silencer and flash suppressor. Just like the one Gene had."

"Who gives a shit?"

"Just making conversation." I added, "Also, just like the one Ted had."

We let that sit awhile, putting some silly thoughts out of our minds. I added, "Of course, the M-14 is a fairly common Army surplus rifle, and I didn't mean to suggest anything by mentioning that Ted happened to have one."

Finally, Kate said, "He could have killed us at the VORTAC station."

To continue the paranoid moment, I pointed out, "He wouldn't whack us so close to where Gene dropped us off to meet him."

She didn't reply.

Of course, I didn't really think it was Ted who was trying to kill us. Ted wouldn't do that. Ted wanted to come to our wedding. Right? But you never know. I put the spent bullet in my pocket.

We sat there for a quiet five minutes, and I figured-whoever he was-he was gone, but I had no intention of finding out for sure.

I could hear helicopters circling in the distance and hoped that eventually one of them would see us.

Despite the pain in my pelvis, I was starting to drift off. I was totally exhausted and also dehydrated, so I thought I was getting delirious when I heard a phone ring. I opened my eyes. "What the hell…?"

Kate and I stared down the slope to where the phone was ringing. I still couldn't see it, but I had a general idea of where it was. I could tell now that it wasn't more than twenty feet away. It was actually directly in front of us, and if I ran out to it, I'd be blocked from Khalil's line of sight by the boulder. Maybe.

Before I could decide if I wanted to risk it, the phone stopped ringing. I said, "If we can get that phone, we can call for help."

Kate replied, "If we go out to get that phone, we won't need any help. We'll be dead."

"Right."

We kept staring at the spot where the phone had been ringing. It began ringing again.

It's a fact that a sniper can't continually stare through a telescopic lens without getting eye and arm fatigue, so he has to take short breaks. Maybe Khalil was on a break. In fact, maybe Khalil was calling us. He can't shoot and talk at the same time. Right?

Before I thought about it too much longer, I sprang forward in a crouch, covered the twenty feet in two seconds, located the ringing phone, scooped it up, spun around, and charged back toward the boulder, keeping the boulder between me and Khalil's line of fire. Before I reached the boulder, I pitched the ringing phone to Kate, who caught it.

I hit the boulder, spun, and fell into a sitting position, wondering why I was still alive. I took a few deep breaths.

Kate had the phone to her ear and was listening. She said into the phone, "Fuck you." She listened again and said, "Don't tell me how a woman should talk. Fuck you."

I had the feeling that wasn't Jack Koenig.

She put the phone to her chest and said to me, "Are you very brave, or very stupid? How could you do that without consulting me? Would you rather be dead than married? Is that it?"