For a moment Abdullah shifted out of his focus. He jerked his head up and he stared into Tanya’s blue eyes. She lowered her arms.

She was alive. Shannon’s arms began to shake.

“Don’t kill him, Shannon.”

The Arab coughed beneath him.

Shannon breathed heavy, his lungs burned. His worlds were colliding. For a few moments no one moved.

He released his grip on Abdullah’s hair. He would follow this woman over a cliff if she suggested it.

You have to stop it, Shannon. Only you can stop it.

He snatched up Abdullah’s gun and scrambled to his feet. “Tanya! There’s a bomb!” He was frozen by this strange panic that swept through him. He felt oddly vacant. Tanya, there’s a bomb? What was he saying?

She looked at him dumbly. “It went off already—”

“No. Another bomb!”

Dear God, what had he done!

Abdullah struggled to his elbows, coughing again. The man should be dead already. But Shannon had changed somehow. The fog was gone and that realization was dizzying.

Abdullah stood and backed up slowly, staring. Then he turned and stumbled toward the skiff.

“Stop!” Shannon lifted the gun and fired it into the air. “The next one won’t miss.”

The Arab halted.

Shannon ran for him. He wasn’t sure how much time he had, but that no longer mattered. Either he would make it or he wouldn’t.

The Arab turned around and Shannon shoved the gun under his chin.

“Give me the transmitter!”

The Arab didn’t flinch. “It’s useless without the code, you fool. I don’t even know the code—”

“Give it to me!” Shannon screamed.

Abdullah dug in his pants pocket and pulled out the black transmitter. Shannon grabbed it and shoved the man away. He turned it on end, activated it with a familiar flip of the power switch, and stared at the number pad.

He lifted an unsteady hand, entered a five-digit code, pushed the green button on the left, and waited. In less than three seconds the red light on the top blipped once.

Transmission confirmed.

Tanya had come up and stood with her arms limp at her sides. The Arab stared at him white faced.

“Only Jamal—”

“I am Jamal.”

Abdullah’s face slowly went white. His lips suddenly twisted to a snarl and he launched himself with a scream. Shannon reacted without thinking. He stepped into the charge and brought his right palm across the man’s head. The impact dropped Abdullah like a sack of grain.

For a long moment Shannon just stood there, staring at the fallen terrorist.

“You are Jamal?” Tanya asked. “Who is Jamal?”

The strength left Shannon’s legs. He backed away from them then, suddenly horrified. “Jamal,” he said.

She took a step toward him. “Yes, who is Jamal, Shannon?”

A desperate urge to run rushed through his head. His limbs began to shake.