“Don’t move, Pet.”
Sky froze. Vladimir Alexandrov’s low, snarling voice filled her headset. That was his
nickname for her when she lived at the Zimmerman household. She felt the cold metal of a
pistol pressed against her neck, making a deep, painful indentation. Her heart flew into a
terrified gallop. Outside the cockpit window, she saw Cal fighting for his life. She heard Vlad
laugh indulgently.
“Stay exactly where you are. In a minute, the last operator will be dead. My men are
coming on board. And then, you’re flying us out of here to Siquta,” and he handed her a piece
of paper. “Set up the coordinates on your Bell’s computer. Now.”
Shaking, Sky couldn’t stop herself from wanting to cry. Cal! Oh, God, no! Vlad had set
up this ambush! How did he know they’d be coming here? How? Her gloved finger shook as
she punched in the coordinates. All the time, her gaze moved between the computer on the
console to the window. Cal was firing slowly, another man falling out of another tree across the
meadow. The mud was flying up like geysers all around him. Julie was down, lying across
Dylan. Neither were moving.
No! No!
Vlad chuckled. “Americans are stupid, Pet. Your nurse runs her life on her heart. How
deadly stupid of her…”
Suddenly, she saw Cal slump to the ground, his rifle falling listlessly out of his hands.
She gave a cry, coming out of her seat even though her harness was still on.
“Cal!” she screamed, frantic.
“SIT!” Alexandrov snarled, his hand clamping like a vise on her shoulder, shoving her
hard, back down into the pilot’s seat.
Sobbing, Sky wrenched her head toward his. It was the first time she’d seen him since
she was eighteen years old. Horror and ice filled her. His forest green eyes were filled with
mirth. His full, sensual mouth was drawn into a pleased, twisted smirk. She felt his fingers
soften slightly. “Let me go to them! You can’t leave them to die!”
Shaking his head, Vlad muttered, “You haven’t changed at all, Ginny. Or is it Sky
Lambert now?” He kept his hand on her shoulder and spoke into the mic at his lips. He turned
and ordered his men to the helo.
Tears blurred Sky’s vision. She sobbed, her glove against her mouth, staring out the
cockpit Plexiglas. Cal didn’t move. From this distance, all she could see was blood alongside his
head. Shot in the head. Oh, no, please…please don’t let him be dead! A sob tore from her. Sky
saw four men in cammo gear, weapons in hand, and hard looks on their camouflaged faces as
they tore the short distance from the jungle wall next to where the craft was located. They
carried a fifth, dead man, between them.
“Get out of the harness,” Vlad snapped, stepping back, holding the pistol on her. “Now!
Hurry!”
Hands shaking, Sky released the harness. As she rose to stand between the seats, Vlad
grabbed her by her uniform at the shoulder. He was as an inch taller than Cal and he was bent
over in the cabin, leering at her. She felt the Helo rocking as the other men, all heavily armed,
leaped on board. Within moments, they released the pallets nylon straps holding it to the deck. They easily pushed it and the platform out the door and it tumbled, the medical items
scattering beneath the whipping blades of the chopper in all directions.
Vlad yanked Sky past him.
“Lev, get up here!” he snapped. Her hurled Sky into the rear of the helicopter.
Sky landed hard on her left shoulder and hip. She rolled and fell against another
Russian soldier crouched in the corner. The roar of the helo erased whatever it was he snarled
at her as he kicked out at her. His boot landed squarely in her ribs. Her breath was knocked
out of her, Sky cried out, rolling onto her other side side, curling up, arms around her torso.
She heard Vlad’s roar of orders above the engines, but it was in Russian and she had no idea
what he screamed.
Her face was pressed against the cold aluminum of the deck. The doors were slid shut.
Another man stepped around her, heading for the cockpit. She felt someone jerk her onto her
back, grabbing her wrists with his large hands. His lips grew into snarl, hatred in his eyes. In
moments, thick zip ties were placed around her wrists. Another soldier turned her around,
gripped her arm, helping her to sit up. He placed her against a bulkhead, next to him. The helo
powered up. Through her tears, Sky saw two Russians at the controls. Alexandrov knelt in a
crouch behind the two seats, sometimes turn and watching her like an animal who had its prey
captured. There was pride and triumph in his expression. He made a gesture and snapped an
order to another soldier crouched next to her. In the next few moments as they lifted off, a
pair of earphones and a mic were placed on her head and near her mouth.
Sky could barely breath. She was in shock, her heart, her soul, back in that meadow.
Cal was dead! Everyone was dead! And all because of Vlad! He had been waiting for them.
How had he known? How?
“So, Pet, we are together again at long last, eh?” Alexandrov said over the comms. “I’ve
always loved you, you know? I will marry you. You will carry my children. Finally, here you are.
My dream has come true.”
Sky lifted her lashes, the tears refusing to staunch and Vlad’s face blurred. “Go to hell,”
she spat, her breath coming in gasps, her side aching. His laugh made her skin crawl. It was a
rich laugh with a serrated edge to it. One that had always made Sky feel nothing but terror for
what he’d do to her later.