CHAPTER 35

IN AFGHANISTAN, I learned how to take down a gunman or a disguised cop at a government checkpoint, to ensure my not getting kidnapped by the Taliban, and I’m stunned that it actually works. The trooper falls heavy on his head and side, I grab his pistol and toss it into the grass, and I find his pepper spray canister and give him a good jolt in his eyes. He cries out and I move as quickly as I can because all I need now is a Tennessee driver who’s an NRA member slowing down and seeing me handcuffing this trooper.

The highway is clear.

I handcuff him, haul him up, and he’s talking to me, and I’m ignoring his words and pleas, and I manage to shove him into the rear seat of his cruiser. I slam the door and go to the driver’s seat. Luckily the engine is still running and the trooper is still trying to talk to me, and I’m ignoring him.

Where to?

There.

That grove of trees.

I glance up at the side-view mirror.

White van coming right down at us.

I duck down.

Wait.

Wait.

I say, “Just be quiet back there, all right? I’m not going to hurt you…I need…I just need time.”

I hear the van roar by, feel the cruiser shake a bit from its passing, and when I think enough seconds have passed, I sit up, check the mirror one more time.

Clear.

I shift the cruiser into drive, swing the steering wheel, and we go down the uneven, grassy ground, until I find a place to pull in among the trees. The right side of the cruiser gets scraped by a pine trunk and I say, “Sorry about that.”

I lower the windows some, switch off the engine. I take the keys. I go around and open the rear door, and the guy tries to kick me.

I dodge it easily and pat his lower shins.

“Trooper, I’m sorry…you have no idea how sorry I am. I’ll call the state police in a while, let them know where they can find you.”

His eyes are swollen, red, and weepy. “You…you’re going to jail for this, bitch, I can guarantee it. I will hurt you. No matter how long it takes.”

I recall that rear police doors can’t be opened from the inside. With him being handcuffed, it’s going to take a lot of time and effort for him to break free.

“You’re going to hurt me?” I ask. “Take a number.”

I slam the rear door shut and start running back up to the highway.

CHAPTER 36

HANCOCK SWEARS and tries to hammer at the door with his booted feet. No joy. Damn it all to hell! He knew something odd was going on with this Army woman, and now, here he is, humiliated, eyes hurting like hell, handcuffed in the rear of his own cruiser. He has no doubt that once he gets free, his brothers and sisters in law enforcement will do their best to track down this crazy bitch, but still…