“Where is she?” I can’t see his shaded eyes, but I’d bet they’re drilling holes in me.

The other man approaches and foolishly reaches out, his gun still holstered. With one fluid movement, I lift his body and hurl him over the back of the boat. He screams.

Moments later, his head bobs up, arms flailing. The El Capitan continues forward, slicing the waves.

The sliding doors open. Wayne Killington holds a gun to Alex’s temple. Every molecule in my body stills.

She’s limp, her head slumped forward. Wayne is holding her up at her waist. Her legs are bent.

“What the—”

“Stay there,” Wayne commands.

The end of a pistol meets my brow. I knock the gun skyward. Kick the man’s legs. His head cracks against the boat.

I toss his pistol over the side.

“Freeze. One more move, and she’s dead.”

My attention falls on Wayne. I have a direct shot at his head. But the man’s been around guns his whole life. I don’t know how quick his trigger finger is.

“Wayne, there’s no way this ends well. The best course of action is for you to put the gun down. Surrender.”

His lips pucker. He shakes his head, denial strong. “You’re going to radio the Coast Guard. Tell them there’s a kidnapping situation. They either let us drive away, or she dies.”

“You don’t know much about how ransoms work, do you, Wayne?” His face is unreadable. “They might be willing to let you get away if they were guaranteed a desirable outcome. The desirable outcome being a live hostage. But without a guaranteed outcome, there is no ransom granted.”

“You and Alex. Always gotta talk. I’ll let you go. You have my word.”

“Yeah, into the ocean two miles out without a life raft.”

“You take the dinghy. Just call them off.”

“Who’s driving the boat?”

“Hand your gun to Juan. We’ll go inside. You’ll radio the Coast Guard.”

Movement flickers from my side. I block a fist. Juan attempts to body punch me, but the boat hits a wave, throwing us all off balance. From the bent knees position, I loop one arm between Juan’s legs and heave up. He pounds my back with his fists.

With one big inhale, I heave and throw him. Juan makes a bigger splash than his compadre.

Off in the distance, Jordan slows. He’s picking up the first guy.

“Now it’s just us, Wayne.”

Wayne steps back. Alex’s ankles follow.

“Is she alive Wayne?” If she’s not, Wayne will eat every single one of my bullets.

“She’s fine. Just napping.”

“What’d you give her?”

“A sedative.”

“Name?” I demand. When I get her to the hospital, it’s best if I have a name.

Wayne’s Adam’s apple bobs. There’s a sweaty sheen across his forehead. A sweat droplet running down the side of his face glistens in the sun.

“If you work with me, I’ll pay you. More money than you could dream.”

“Wrong incentive.”

“I’m not going to prison.” He’s saying it as much to himself as to me. I inch toward him.