MINA WAS GLUED to her chair in front of the bank of camera monitors in the spare bedroom, with Sandra sitting in a chair beside her. Neither woman wanted to miss the confrontation. It was going to be epic; she just knew it.

“This is so exciting,” Sandra confided. “I haven’t been a reporter for several years. I miss it terribly. Those adrenaline rushes are hard to give up.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” She sighed. “I’m going to be stuck at home for the immediate future. I really can’t go out with the guys when I’m pregnant.”

Sandra patted her hand. “This is almost as good,” she said, indicating the monitors. “Oh, look!”

As she spoke, a small group of men in military gear, holding what looked like automatic weapons, passed by the cameras. There was both night vision and sound, so what they said was audible. They were speaking in Spanish, in terse, angry voices. Fortunately they weren’t rattling off like some people did, so that Mina understood almost every word. What she heard chilled her blood.

“They’re talking about the ranch house,” she said to Sandra, and her face went pale. “Two of them want ransom…!”

“Your guys are out there. They’ll shut them down,” Sandra began.

“You don’t understand,” Mina said urgently. “There are two groups! One isn’t associated with the smugglers. It’s run by two men who separated from the others and just want hostages. It’s a big ranch and they know that wealthy people live here. They think it’s easy money, compared to running drugs!”

Even as she spoke, she heard the front door open violently. Mina ran to the closet and unpacked her .45. She grabbed the full clip and shot it home into the gun and cocked it. She hoped against hope that one of the commandos was monitoring the audio from those cameras, so they’d know Mina and the others were in danger. But she couldn’t count on being rescued.

“Get behind me,” she told Sandra, and suddenly she was someone else. She was Willow Shane to the teeth.

Sandra didn’t argue. She did what she was told.

Mina went stealthily to the door. She wanted to call to Vic, who’d gone into his room to watch TV, and tell him not to move. She looked over her shoulder and saw Sandra texting furiously. Sandra looked up and nodded. Mina nodded, too. Obviously the women had the same thought.

There were muttered discussions of who would remain downstairs and who would look for somebody to hold hostage. This was a big rich house. Whoever lived here would pay and pay well for anyone they could snatch. They sounded bombed out of their minds, Mina realized. That would make this harder. You couldn’t really reason with someone whose brains were on vacation. Her hand tightened on the .45. Her mouth was dry. Her palms were damp. She laughed inwardly at those visible signs of fear. But fear was only a symptom. It needed control, and the guys had taught it to her. She moved closer to the door.