In the middle of the night it took her less than five minutes to reach a barricade of cars crowding the parking lot below the rangers station at Race Point. It took her a few minutes longer to convince an unfamiliar officer that she belonged there. Officers, many of them from neighboring townships, were milling about, walkie talkies blaring. There was also an impressive array of weapons on display. The air crackled with tension. Someone finally directed her toward a clump of people crouched behind a large dune at the crest of a hill. The roar of the Atlantic just beyond was unmuted by the noises of the crowd.

She found Nelson peering down toward the beach below with night binoculars.

"Nelson!" she called, shouldering her way toward him. "Whats going on?"

He turned to her, handing the glasses to the man next to him. His face was grim.

"A Coast Guard cutter tried to board a craft running without lights a mile off shore. They were fired upon, and ended up in pursuit. They radiod us for back-up on the beach. Before we knew what was happening, the suspect ship ran aground and began firing on my people. Ive got an officer down out there on the beach."

Tory fought to draw a breath against the crushing fear that gripped her.

"Is it Reese?" she asked in a voice that sounded foreign to her own ears. The shouts, the crowds, the occasional crack of what must be gunfire receded from her consciousness. All of her awareness fixed on his face, awaiting the words that would change her life.

"Its Smith," he answered tightly. "Conlons right over there."

She looked where he pointed, almost afraid to believe him. When she recognized Reeses unmistakable form, the rush of relief was so intense her legs threatened to desert her. Thank you God, she thought as she struggled for calm. Reese turned abruptly from the men she had been talking with, crossing the sand toward them with powerful strides.

"Nelson," Reese snapped, her face rigid with anger, "youre going to have to back me on this. You have jurisdiction here, not the Coast Guard. Were wasting time Smith may not have." As she spoke she pulled her jacket off and began unbuckling her gunbelt.

Tory looked from one to the other in confusion. Nelsons face was set as he watched Reese, clearly unhappy. As if she sensed his uncertainty, Reese locked eyes with him.

In a surprisingly gentle voice, she said, "You know its the right thing to do. Even by helicopter, the SWAT team is twenty minutes away. I am a Lieutenant Colonel in the United States Marine Corp. This is what Im trained for. Theres no one here more fit for this action than me."

He stared at her, then nodded his assent. "At least get a vest," he rasped.

"Right," she said as she stripped off her uniform shirt. The tee shirt she was wearing underneath was stretched taut across her chest as she restrapped her revolver into a shoulder holster.

"What the hell is going on?" Tory demanded. She was staring at Reese with the sinking feeling that she wasnt going to like the answer. Nelson looked at her as if he had forgotten he had requested her.

"We need to get Smith off the beach," Reese answered in his stead.

"And youre going to go?" Tory asked, deathly cold gripping her.

"Yes."

Tory looked into the face of a stranger. What she saw there was something ferocious, something dangerous - an invincible conviction she knew men would follow into battle. Everything about Reese, from the set of her shoulders to the piercing focus in her eyes, radiated a sense of certainty and purpose. Torys words of protest died on her lips. As much as her mind recoiled from the fear of seeing Reese lying bloodied on that beach, she could not deny the rightness of her going.

"Do not die out there, Conlon," she whispered fiercely to her, stepping close enough that she could have touched her. She didnt; she was too afraid she might not let go. "Dont you dare let that happen."

Reeses face softened for the briefest moment. "I wont." Looking at Nelson then, her eyes were like ice, her tone unrelenting. "Give me five minutes to circle around behind that line of scrubbrush, then have the Coast Guard lay down a steady barrage of fire on that boat - and dont quit til I have him under cover of the dunes."

As Nelson brought the radio to his lips, Reese melted into the night. Tory watched her shape fade into shadow while a part of her prepared for the pain she feared was coming. The simple fact that life as she knew it hung in the balance was as clear to her as any truth she had ever known.

"Give me those glasses, Nelson," she demanded.

Wordlessly he handed them to her, motioning to a man next to him to relinquish his. Together they cautiously crept to the top of the last dune and looked down into a nightmare. A large vessel wallowed in the wake just off shore, illuminated by the lights of half a dozen Coast Guard ships ringing the grounded craft. A body lay in the sand twenty yards from the board stairs that led up from the beach. With the night glasses Tory could make out Smiths features, but she couldnt tell if he was alive. She could also see the officers crouched in the scant shelter of the stairs. Suddenly the night was ablaze with flashes of light as gunfire erupted across the water. Tory flinched involuntarily, but her eyes never stopped scanning the eerie tableau below. From out of the darkness a shadow raced along the sand, crouched low but clearly vulnerable in the merciless light of the moon. Reese dove and rolled, coming to rest beside the body in the sand. In the next instant she was up, Smith balanced across her shoulders as she sprinted toward the protection of the dunes. Tory saw the flickers of fire from the guns on the outlaw ship, she saw Reese falling, she heard Nelsons groan beside her.

A scream of protest at the unthinkable exploded from her. Something deep inside of her was shattering, bleeding her soul into the darkness. She hadnt realized she had started to rise until a firm hand pulled her down. "Let me go!" she raged, blindly clawing at his arm. "Goddamn it, let me go!"

"Tory!" Nelson shouted, shaking her hard. "Tory! Shes up!"

Tory stared back down the slope, unbelieving. Reese crawled toward the cover of the scrubs, dragging Smith with an arm around his waist. Suddenly shapes emerged from the night, surrounding them, shepherding them to safety.

Tory sank to her knees, sobbing softly. The hand on her shoulder shook her again, softly this time. "We need you now, Doctor King."

"Yes," Tory gasped, struggling to stand. "Yes." Squaring her shoulders, she pointed to the emergency vehicles pulled up beside the patrol cars. "Have them brought to me there. Ill need their equipment."

Smith was the first to arrive, carried on a stretcher by three men and a woman, all in body armor, bristling with weapons Tory scarcely recognized.

"Put him down gently," she cautioned. Looking past them for the other stretcher, she saw no one. "Wheres Conlon?" she asked, her throat painfully tight, her stomach clenching.

"Debriefing the Chief," one of the men grunted.

"Get her over here - no excuses," Tory ordered as she knelt by Smiths side. She didnt look up again until she had two IVs inserted in the large veins just under his collar bones, blood running through both of them, and a compression bandage on the sucking wound in his chest.

"Somebody hand me a number thirty chest tube, on the double," she called. An EMT opened a sterile cut down tray so that Tory could make a one inch incision between Smith's ribs, passing the firm plastic tube into the space around his deflated lung. "Hook this up to a suction pump now," she instructed the woman assisting her. She continued to monitor his pulse and blood pressure as the blood was evacuated through the chest tube. Finally she was satisfied that he was as stable as she could get him.

"Okay, lets transport. Advise them that they have a GSW to the chest, hemopneumothorax, probable lung injury. Hell need an open thoracotomy ASAP!"

"Right, Doc," the male EMT replied. "Were rolling. You want us to send a second squad back for the other one?"

"Whats her condition?"

"Looks like just a flesh wound. She was walking and talking."

"Have her transported to my clinic. Ill handle her there."

"Im not sure shell leave," he called as he climbed into his vehicle. "It was a struggle just to get a look at her."

"Get going," Tory shouted, fire in her eyes. "Ill deal with her."

She found them hunkered down behind the dune where she had left Nelson what seemed like another lifetime ago. They were sketching out some kind of map in the sand. The left side of Reeses shirt was stained dark with blood. Her face was beaded with sweat.

Tory forced herself between them, taking them both by surprise. "Youre done here, Reese. You need medical attention, and you need it now."

As Reese started to protest Tory calmly turned her back.

"Nelson, Ill have your job for reckless endangerment if you dont order her to come with me," she informed her good friend.

Nelsons eyes widened in shock, then he nodded. "Of course, youre right. Conlon- get your butt out of here."

"Yes, sir," she conceded. She turned to accompany Tory, wincing involuntarily as she became aware of the pain in her side for the first time. She found she couldnt straighten up, and her legs were a little rubbery. Tory steadied her with an arm around her waist, carefully avoiding the wounded area.

"Thanks," Reese managed.

"Dont thank me," Tory informed her remotely. She steeled herself against the awareness of Reeses pain. For now she was only a doctor, and Reese just a patient in need.

**********

"Can you get up on the examining table?" Tory asked as she led Reese slowly into the procedure room.