“Here’s the deal,” Caldwell said in a calm voice. “I’ll call and your mother will be set free. Once we’re in the air and have reached our destination, I’ll place another call and your father will go free.”

“That wasn’t the deal!”

“I’m holding the cards, Maren. I’m willing to make a goodwill gesture to show you that you can trust me. I’ll make the call now. Your mother will be set free with an escort. She’ll be instructed not to talk to anyone or your father will be killed. The rest is up to you.”

He reached for Maren’s arm as he pulled out his phone. And still he hadn’t glanced in the direction of the plane. He was turned toward the hangar.

“The plane is a diversion,” Steele said into his mic. “He’s covering himself in case this was a setup.”

Even as he spoke, the roof of the hangar began retracting, sliding away to make a huge opening.

“Fuck, he’s got a chopper in there,” Cole said. “And no clear shot. I’m not high enough. We can’t take him out now anyway if he’s making a second phone call.”

“I’m working on a signal lock,” Donovan said. “If I can trace the call, we won’t need that second phone call. Come on, come on,” he muttered. “Talk to me, baby. Give me what I need.”

It was obvious Donovan was sweet-talking his electronics, and not very successfully. The frustration was evident in his voice.

Caldwell handed the phone to Maren and then started guiding her toward the hangar. The helicopter’s engine roared to life and the rotors began spinning.

“Jesus Christ, if there’s anything loose, debris inside the damn hangar, tools, anything, she could be decapitated with the force of the winds from the blades,” Joe said. “Caldwell is a stupid fuck!”

“I’ve got it!” Donovan shouted. “I’ve got a lock. I’m calling it in now.”

“Fuck this. I’m going in,” Steele said. No way in hell he was going to sit there while Caldwell took Maren away from him.

“There’s still one guy in the SUV,” Garrett warned. “Anyone have a bead on him?”

“I got him,” Skylar said.

A moment later the glass shattered on the windshield but Steele was already running as fast as he could toward the hangar, determined to make it before it lifted off. To his surprise, Hancock was close on his heels.

A bullet hit the ground at Steele’s feet, flinging up pieces of concrete.

“Sniper, get down!” Joe roared. “Came in nine o’clock. Someone get on it fast.”

Gunfire erupted as the rest of KGI provided cover for Steele and Hancock as they bolted toward the hangar. They burst through the same door Caldwell had led Maren through just as the helicopter lifted off the ground and rose upward through the gaping opening in the roof.

“Do not shoot,” Steele bellowed. “Maren’s in that helicopter. Do not try to disable it!”

He lunged for the landing rail, barely managing to curl his fingers around it as it lifted higher. Hancock launched himself on the other side and the chopper rose above the roof, the two men hanging precariously from the rails.

As soon as the chopper cleared the roof, it zoomed forward and the ground spun dizzyingly below. Steele swung his legs up and then pulled himself the rest of the way so he was standing on the rail. As soon as his head cleared the opening, he saw Caldwell pointing a gun directly at him.

Before he could take evasive action, Maren launched herself at Caldwell, grabbing his wrist in an effort to prevent him from shooting Steele.

“No!” Steele roared. Goddamn it, he didn’t want her to get herself shot.

Maren grappled with Caldwell and they spun around, each fighting for control. A shot sounded and he and Hancock both ducked. The helicopter dipped precariously, and it was then Steele saw that the bullet had shattered the control panel and the pilot was slumped forward.

Fuck!

Steele propelled himself up and inside the helicopter just as Caldwell shook Maren loose from his wrist.

“Give it up, Caldwell. Your pilot is dead. You aren’t going anywhere and if you want to live, put the goddamn gun down so we can land this bitch.”

He shouted the words so Caldwell would hear, but Caldwell was obviously beyond reason. He swung his arm wildly in Maren’s direction.

“If I can’t have her, neither will you. We’ll all die,” Caldwell screamed.

Steele threw himself at Caldwell, desperate to make the shot go wild, but he was too late. A shot rang out just as Steele collided with Caldwell. But fear for Maren took priority. He shook Caldwell loose and looked frantically in Maren’s direction only to see her standing, pale as a ghost, hand covering her mouth as she looked down in horror.

Hancock was slumped on the floor, blood spreading rapidly over his chest. Holy fuck. Hancock had thrown himself between Maren and Caldwell and had taken the bullet meant for her.

Pain exploded in Steele’s head and he reeled sideways. Caldwell was enraged and he stood silhouetted against the open doors of the helicopter, gun pointed down at Steele, who lay crumpled on the floor.

“I win,” Caldwell said.

In a blur of motion, Maren flew at Caldwell, shoving him out the opening and into empty space. Steele watched in horror as she collided with him and then went tumbling out with him when his hand flailed and grabbed her arm.

“No!” Steele roared.

He lunged for the side, rage and grief knifing through his heart. He thrust his head over the side to see Caldwell plunging to the earth below. But no Maren. He shook his head as tears burned, blurring his vision. Then he heard her.

“Steele!”

It was a high-pitched scream that shook him from his numb shock. He glanced straight down and saw her dangling from the rail, her hands curled tight around it. Her legs dangled and whirled as the helicopter spun and dipped erratically.

He had no time to process his overwhelming relief that she hadn’t plummeted to her death. She was barely hanging on and if he didn’t get to her within seconds, she would fall.

“Hold on!” he shouted. “Hold on, damn it. Don’t you dare let go, Maren. Do you hear me? Don’t you let go!”

He inched his way over the edge, hooking his foot underneath the seat for leverage so he wouldn’t fall. He strained down, his hand extending as far as he could go.

Damn it. He needed a few more inches, but if he loosened his foothold, he’d go with her and they’d both die.

“Maren, listen to me. On the count of three, let go with your right hand and reach for mine. Be quick and don’t let go with your other hand. Can you do that? You have to reach me. Give me your hand. I swear I won’t let you go.”

She nodded, though terror blazed in her eyes. I love you, she mouthed.

Oh fuck no. There would be no farewells. No I love yous before dying. He wasn’t going to let her die.

He strained down as far as he could, splaying his hand and stretching every muscle in his body. “One, two, three!”

She lurched upward, her hand glancing off his. Her fingers failed to wrap around his but he caught her wrist, gripping it so hard it was a wonder he hadn’t broken it. But there was no way in hell he was letting her go.

“Now give me your other hand, Maren. Reach up and give it to me. I have to be able to pull you up. If I can get you high enough that you can put your feet on the bottom rail, you can stand up and crawl inside.”

She nodded and then let go of the rail. The helicopter took a crazy swing, spinning rapidly like a drunken merry- go-round. She flailed and swung out and then slammed against the railing with her body.

He knew he had to be crushing the bones in her wrist, but his grip was the only thing between her life and death.

After their hands bounced off several times, he finally managed to grasp her fingers and then he worked his hand down so he now had both wrists in his grasp.

He pulled upward, using every ounce of his strength to pull her as high as he could so she could gain a foothold on the railing. His foot started to slide from where he had it tucked underneath the seat.

Fuck!

He inched downward and knew that either he had to let her go or they were both going to fall to their deaths. He locked gazes with her, his expression fierce. No fucking way he was letting her die alone. If they fell, he’d hold her the entire way and she’d know that he loved her with his very last breath. They might even get lucky and if she landed on top of him, there might be a slim chance she wouldn’t be killed on impact.

Just as he was coming to terms with the fact they were both going to die, hands circled his ankles and began dragging him backward. Maren’s eyes widened, going from resignation and acceptance to hope.

Steele renewed his efforts, pulling Maren upward with all his strength. The situation was made worse by the fact that the helicopter was spinning out of control and Maren was flapping in the wind. It was taking every bit of his strength, grit and determination not to let her go. He was all the way inside the helicopter with just his arms extending downward gripping Maren’s wrists when Hancock leaned over him, lying on Steele’s back as he reached to grab Maren’s wrists just below where Steele held them.

Together they hauled her up and into the helicopter and Hancock promptly rolled away, blood smeared all over his chest. He was pale as death, and helping Steele had sapped his remaining strength.

“Pilot,” Hancock gasped out. “No pilot. Going down. Controls are shot.”

Steele dragged himself up and then hauled Maren to her feet. There was no time for relief or joy. They weren’t out of the woods yet.