And the fucking gator was moving even faster, enticed by the scream.

Wilder knew it was too late for Finnegan, but he pressed forward anyway. Another scream. Wilder could have moved faster, but there was no way he was taking the MP-5 out of the ready position. Because someone was causing those screams and someone who could do that was not someone to be underestimated. Wilder was pretty sure old Rogers would be with him on this one, even though being in a swamp with a screaming Irishman and a gator had not been covered in the Rangering Rules.

Another scream. Wilder was close to the road.

Silence.

Wilder froze. His eyes swept back and forth, searching through the goggles, the muzzle of the submachine gun following his gaze. Nothing moving. But whatever had happened was over. And now it was time to watch one's own ass.

Because whoever had made Finnegan scream was close. Damn close. Waiting for him to do something stupid. And the silence from Johnnie-boy and Peter meant they, too, were probably not among the living.

It was the hardest lesson he had learned in combat: Do nothing.

He stood perfectly still, chest-deep in the swamp. Finger on the trigger. Listening. Watching. Sniffing.

A body came tumbling down the berm and splashed into the water and Wilder swung the muzzle to the left as it was met by the alligator, which snatched it up in its massive jaws.

Wilder knew the 9-mm bullets in the submachine gun would only piss off such a large alligator, and besides, he really had nothing against the critter. It was just doing what came naturally to it. Wilder dropped the MP-5 into the water where it came to rest on its sling and reached to his back where the Glock with the hot loads was holstered. He knew those rounds could punch through most body armor, so he hoped it would penetrate the gator's hide if need be. Shooting gators had not been taught at Bragg during Special Forces training, a serious oversight, Wilder was beginning to believe. If Pepper had had any say, it would have been.

Wilder drew the pistol out, water pouring out of the barrel, and fired a warning shot. The gator began to thrash, but he shifted up and fired several rounds toward the berm, trying to ensure that whoever had thrown the man in would have to take cover. If he went up there in chase, there was a very good chance he'd take a round right between the eyes, if the other person had also learned the same hard lesson of being able to wait. Wilder was willing to wager good money that the other person had indeed.

Wilder shifted back to the thrashing in the water. Then suddenly there was silence. He took an involuntary step backward, realizing the gator had gone under with its prey. He remained still, cognizant of predators all about. Finally, after five minutes, he waded forward toward the berm.

That's when he saw the flicker of movement to his left, along the road, flitting between the trees. A ghostly figure moving away at a sprint. Nash? Wilder aimed the Glock but he couldn't get a solid sight picture. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared and for a moment Wilder wondered if he'd been mistaken.

No.

Wilder considered pursuit, then decided he'd really like to see Lucy again before he died-which he was now hoping would happen when he was very old and in bed with her-and deep-sixed that idea.

There was something floating in the water. A piece of cloth. Wilder scooped it up. Part of a Hawaiian shirt soaked with blood and swamp water.

Finnegan was sleeping with the gators.

Chapter 18

Lucy had taken Pepper back to Daisy, listening with half an ear to Pepper's enthusiastic recount of her time spent with Major LaFavre.

"He is a very good person," she told Lucy.

"I'm sure he is," she said and knocked on Daisy's door.

Daisy opened it, looking bleary-eyed. "Hey, pumpkin," she said to Pepper. Then she looked at Lucy and her smile faded. "What?"

"Don't come to the bridge tonight," Lucy said, as Daisy stepped back to let them in the room. "Pack your things and I'll pick you up as soon as filming is over. We're leaving right away."

"To go to New York?"

"Maybe. I don't know." Lucy sat down on the bed and almost knocked over Daisy's pill bottle. There were only four left. Good. "For right now, just away from here."

"What do you mean, 'maybe'?"

Lucy took a deep breath. "I mean, maybe we'll stay here. Maybe we'll start over here."

Daisy sat down beside her. "Really?"

Lucy looked at her. "J.T. knows we were in a foster home."

"So?"

"I've never told anybody that."

Daisy blinked. "Why?"

"Nobody's business."

"I agree. Why did you tell J.T.?"

"I didn't. He guessed. Well, he guessed we weren't sisters and then the rest… just came out."

Daisy nodded. "And what does this have to do with us staying in the South?"

Lucy swallowed. "I think J.T. is the rest of my life. I know I move too fast, but I really think he is. And that's a new life. And you want a new life. And I want to be with you, I want to play Barbies with Pepper until she's too old to play Barbies and then I want to talk about boys with her."

"Cool," Pepper said.

"So I think tonight after the shoot is over, we get in the camper and we drive to Charleston or Atlanta or someplace, I don't know, and we find a nice hotel and we sit and we figure out what we both want, and we pick a place and we start over. Together. Both of us. Partners."

Daisy drew a deep breath. "I'd like that very much."

Lucy nodded. "Yeah. So would I."

"What about your career?"

Good question. "Well, Atlanta's a big advertising town," Lucy said, trying to sound more positive than she felt. "And I'm sure they have many talented dogs there. Gloom can run the business part from New York. He loves my loft, he can move in." Actually, the more she talked about it, the more it all made sense. Something new. Brand-new start. Brand-new day. Brand-new love. "This is what I want to do, it's what you want to do, it's good. We'll have to figure things out together-"

"We can do that," Daisy said eagerly, and Lucy saw tears in her eyes. "We can so do that."

Lucy felt her own tears start. "You sound like Pepper."

Daisy swallowed. "I feel like Pepper. It'll be the three of us."

''And J.T.," Pepper said, watching them wide-eyed, as if waiting to find out if the crying part was good or not.

"And J.T.," Lucy said firmly.

"And Rene," Pepper said.

"Who?" Daisy said.

"Rene," Pepper said. "He's J.T.'s best friend. So we will cook dinner and they will come."

"Cook dinner?" Lucy said, not sure.

"I'll show you how," Daisy said and then grinned. "Yeah. I'll show you how to do something."

"Cool," Pepper said.

Lucy nodded. "Cool."

Daisy took a deep breath. "And we will have such a good time."

Lucy started to laugh. "Okay, so you pack and I'll go finish up this… movie…" Oh, hell. The CIA and the Russian mob. "And then we'll have a new life."

"Okay," Pepper said and went to drag her pink Barbie rolling carry-on out of the corner.

Lucy stood up. "I'll call you after the shoot."

"We'll be ready." Daisy stood up. "We will be so ready. Lucy, thank you."

"Hey." Lucy slung her arm around her and kissed her cheek. "This is good for me too. Everybody wins."

I hope.

Lucy had finished packing her duffel and put it next to J.T.'s case when someone knocked on the door.

Nash, she thought. He's found out we're stripping the crew off the bridge. "Who is it?"

"It's me," J.T. said. "Who were you expecting?"

She unlocked the door and threw her arms around him so that he had to drag her with him as he came in. He kicked the door shut behind him and kissed her, and she hung on tight, so relieved to see him, she was speechless. Damn LaFavre, making her worry.