GRISHA HAD one arm around Karla's neck, his fingers entwined in her hair. The palm of his other hand was pressed against her face so that she could hardly breathe. With a simple twist, he could have broken her neck. He was angry enough to kill her, but his greed was stronger than his more violent tendencies. She was worth more alive than dead.

But that didn't mean he and his men couldn't have some fun with the beautiful young woman. He removed his hand from her face and pulled down the zipper of her jacket. Frustrated by the layers of warm-weather clothing underneath, he cursed and knocked her to the ground. One of his men shouted.

Grisha glimpsed a shadow moving on the ground and he looked up.

His mouth dropped in amazement.

A two-headed man was swooping down on him from out of the sky.

WHEN THE distance narrowed to a couple of hundred feet, Austin started blazing away with both handguns. He aimed off to the side to avoid hitting Karla. Her captors ran for their lives.

With Karla out of the way, Austin was free to aim at his fleeing targets, but it was difficult to get a clear shot while he was moving. Zavala yelled at Austin to get ready to land. He tucked one gun into its holster, the other in his belt.

They attempted to land on their feet, but they had come in too fast. They hit the ground and lurched forward onto their hands and knees. Luckily, the vegetation cushioned the impact. They quickly unstrapped the power unit. While Zavala rolled up the lines to the sail, Austin went over to the blond woman who was kneeling beside an older man.

“Miss Janos?” Austin said.

She glanced up at Austin with her striking gray eyes. “Who are you?”

“Kurt Austin. My friend Joe and I have been looking for you. Are you all right?”

“Yes, I'm fine,” she said. “My uncle needs help.”

Austin dug a first-aid kit out of his pack. The man was still conscious. He lay on his back with his eyes open. He could have been anywhere from sixty-five to seventy-five years old, but it was hard to tell because his long-jawed face was covered with blood that flowed from lacerations on the cheek and brow.

Austin knelt by his side, cleaned the wound and applied antiseptic on the raw flesh. His ministrations must have been painful, but the man didn't flinch. His arctic blue eyes watched every move Austin made.

Austin had barely started his first aid when the man said, “That's enough. Help me up.” With Austin's aid, Schroeder struggled to stand. He was a tall man, several inches over Austin's six foot one.

Karla put her arm around her uncle's waist. “Are you all right?”

“I'm a tough old lizard,” he said. “It's you I'm worried about.”

“I'm okay, thanks to these two men.”