The rush of air into his face was a necessary evil. His sunglasses would keep most debris and bugs out of his eyes. He didn't want to get cut with flying glass.

Rosalie reached forward and shoved the hood latches into place. Now, the

windshield was fully secured. Removing her hand gun from her belt, she aimed over the back of her seat and shot out the rear window.

After replacing her handgun, she turned her head and smiled at Scott. "I'm

ready."

"You sure are, sweetheart. They won't know what hit 'em."

"At least we have more of a chance then my poor Julio had. He hated guns."

Scott's reply was cut off by the sound of a helicopter approaching.

"They're coming up behind us. Fast. Wait for your shot. I'll be doing evasive

maneuvers."

"Understood."

Rosalie released the shoulder harness. Lowering the back of her seat down to

about a sixty-degree angle, she twisted, then braced the automatic weapon on

the back of it.

"If I miss them coming from behind, how much time do you think I'll have before they come around at us from the front?"

"Not much. That copter is highly maneuverable in tight combat situations.

Maybe ten seconds tops. And they can come at us from anywhere. Be prepared to shoot through the Hummer's roof if they sweep over us. I'll try to give you clear shots. Listen for my signals. That is, if you miss them on the first go round."

"In other words, don't miss."

Rosalie's dry tone reassured Scott. She understood that they were sitting ducks. The first fly-by would be crucial.

By the sound of things, the copter was very close. Scott couldn't see it. The

overhang of the forest was thick and impenetrable. Their pursuers couldn't see them, either. And with the copter's noise, they couldn't hear the Hummer to shoot at them.

He and Rosalie were safe until they emerged from the tunnel of trees.

"We'll be out of the overhang within a quarter mile," he said. "Got your shot picked out?"

"Yes. I take out the back rotor. Correct?"

"That's a plan. Can you do it?"

Rosalie didn't answer. She was staring out the back of the Hummer, her hand on the trigger. She seemed to be mouthing prayers. Adding a few words himself, Scott prepared to keep them out of the line of fire.

They hit the open road going sixty-five miles an hour. Scott started evasive maneuvers, swerving in an erratic pattern. The helicopter was on them like a giant mosquito looking for blood. Gunfire followed, but the copter had difficulty keeping up with Scott's crazy-quilt pattern. So far, the shots lagged behind them. The Hummer's body armor was not as thick as a tank, but thicker then a normal automobile. Scott prayed the copter's ammo wasn't armor-piercing.

Rosalie hadn't taken a single shot.

"Rosalie!"

Scott's shout seemed to blow back in his face.

"Shut up!" she said. "I'm trying to concentrate."

Scott laughed. She was fine, although he wasn't sure about himself. His heart

threatened to beat its way out of his chest. If he wasn't careful, he'd hyperventilate.

He concentrated on breathing.

The sound of the submachine gun erupting next to him caused his heart to leap from his aching chest into his throat. He swerved in a less-than-controlled manner. The motion threw Rosalie against the passenger door.

After a particularly foul four-letter word, Rosalie snapped, "Watch it! I almost had the bastards."

Rosalie swore once more, in Spanish this time.

Scott laughed. He'd heard enough of the guttural Spanish to know that the men-in-the-helicopter's ancestors should be turning over in their graves. His partner was one tough lady. He wondered if Julio had ever realized that.

Maybe he was watching over them, cheering them on.

'Hey, Julio. If you're watching, help us out. Okay, buddy?'

Scott swerved to miss a large hole. Rosalie swore some more.

"Forest overhang ahead," he said. "How we doin'?"

Rosalie mumbled something he couldn't quite catch. Another burst of gunfire

from the powerful gun punctuated her inaudible comments.

Then the cool darkness of the forest archway swept over the vehicle, hiding it

from sight.. "They'll try to get ahead of us, won't they?" Rosalie swung around to face forward, then braced the gun on the dashboard. "Got half a magazine left. That should do it. I nicked the pilot. The co-pilot took over. There are three of them in the copter. I can't seem to get the rotor in my sights. I may have hit one of the auxiliary tanks, but..."

"They'll have enough fuel in the main one to outlast us to the river," Scott finished for her. "Well, you'll just have to get them when we come out of the tunnel."

"Okay."

A hitch in Rosalie's voice caused him to look at her.

She stared at him. No, she stared at his arm.

It was then he felt the sting. He'd been hit and hadn't even realized it. Blood oozed from a wound on his upper arm.

"You've been hit! You're bleeding." Rosalie's voice, although calm on the surface, held hints of underlying hysteria.

Scott maneuvered around a fallen branch and slowed the vehicle down to fifty miles an hour. Let the damn copter wait on them a bit. He couldn't have his gunner flying into hysterics over his little flesh wound.

"I'm fine." He hoped his voice would reassure her.

"Then, why are you slowing down?"

"To show you I'm okay."

Rosalie ripped a piece of her shirt off and wrapped it tightly around his wound. The pressure eased some of the sting.

"I want them in position at the end of this forest tunnel," he continued. "They'll be expecting us to come out straight at them -- giving them a clear shot."

Rosalie picked up the gun once more and resumed position. "But we won't be giving them one, will we?"

"Nope. Hold on, partner."

Scott angled off the road, then maneuvered through the thick swampy under-growth. The Hummer pulled through the marshy ground like a duck in water.

From the sound of the hovering motors, Scott estimated the position of the copter. He slowed, then paralleled the road, using the natural cover to hide the Hummer, as he circumvented the enemy.

"Bingo. Gotcha, you son-of-a-bitches," he said as he pulled to a position intersecting the road behind the copter. Still hidden by abundant ground cover, the Hummer's smooth-idling motor couldn't be heard above the copter's whining engines.

"Think you can hit the bastard now -- or do you want me to do it?"

Rosalie grinned. "No, thanks. It's my kill."

She sighted carefully. As she pulled the trigger, she yelled, "This is for you, Julio."

Rosalie emptied the magazine into the rear rotor, nearly shredding the tail assembly. The copter hung for a moment then fell from the sky like a whirling dervish. It crashed into the road just short of the forest tunnel, effectively blocking the road from any land pursuers. Then it erupted into a fire ball.

Before the copter had hit bottom, Scott gunned the engine of the Hummer and broke onto the road. They were half a mile away, before the falling debris from the explosion littered the space they'd previously occupied.

Rosalie ejected the empty magazine, slapped a fresh one into place, and locked down the gun before she set it on the back seat. She pulled a First Aid kit from the glove box.

"Pull over, Scott. I need to clean and bandage the wound before you pick up some exotic jungle germ."

"No. We've got to keep going. It's okay. It'll wait until we're at the village."

Rosalie glared at him.

Scott chuckled. "Hey, honest. It's just a scrape. Maybe a piece of metal or something hit me from when one of the bullets hit the Humvee. The pressure bandage you applied has already slowed the bleeding. I'll be okay."

"Okay. But if you're wrong, I'll kill you myself."

"If I'm wrong, I'll deserve it."

Scott was correct -- it was only a deep gash.

Rosalie cleaned it out, then left it open to drain, using butterfly bandages to pull the ragged edges together. It wouldn't be as smooth a scar as a sutured wound, but stitching in this damp climate would only have promoted bacterial growth. He'd keep it clean, medicated and bandaged. He'd be fine.

The village medicine man gave them some tree bark. Sam told Scott the bark was good for infections. He didn't doubt it. The rain forests, swamp and forest lands of Brazil probably had plants that could cure a lot of medical problems. Time and modern man were the enemies of the Brazilian wilderness.

Scott humored the medicine man and Rosalie and drank some tea made from the bark.

The toothless medicine man chattered some words at Sam, while gesturing between Scott and Rosalie.