He unb.u.t.toned his shirt, then gritted his teeth and leaned forward, slipping out of it. She placed his hand against the wound again to help slow the flow of blood.

"Hold on tight to it, okay?"

She poked a key through the fabric of the shirt, then ripped away a piece of it, folding it into a pack.

"There you go messing up one of my shirts again," Dave said. "Pretty soon I'm not going to have a d.a.m.ned thing left to wear."

"G.o.d, Dave. Please don't cut up. Not now."

"Take it easy, Lisa. It's going to be okay." He glanced at the yoke. "Shouldn't somebody be flying this thing?"

"I've got it under control. Move your hand."

He eased his hand away, and she quickly pressed the pack against the wound.

"Hold that," she told Dave, putting his palm back against it. She tore the shirt into strips.

"Can you lift your leg?" she asked.

He raised his leg as best he could, and she slipped the strips beneath it, circling his thigh and making a knot just above the wound to tie the pack in place. Blood was already soaking through it. She pressed her palm hard against it, and Dave gritted his teeth.

"I'm sorry," she said. "But I have to hold it tight."

"I know. It's okay."

With his head against the back of the seat, he rolled it to the left to look at her. "Guess this'll teach me not to mess around getting into the plane next time, huh?" He smiled a little, but she could see the pain in his eyes.

"Dave, I'm so sorry. I never should have gotten you into this."

"No. It was my decision. I was the one who wanted to go after Robert."

"But I never should have let you. You'd already done so much for me. To put your life at risk like this-"

"Again. My choice. And everything's going to be all right. We haven't come this far for things to fall apart now. Just get us to San Antonio, okay?"

"No. We're landing in Brownsville. It's only an hour away. I wish I could put down before then, but there's nothing between here and there but open country. I'll make sure they have an ambulance waiting."

"What about Robert?"

"I'll ask the controller in Brownsville to contact customs agents in San Antonio and tell them what's happening. They can arrange to have agents in Brownsville waiting to pick him up." She paused. "And I'll have them call Alex. He needs to know what's happening."

Dave looked for a moment as if he wanted to object. Then he glanced down at the blood seeping through the bandage on his leg and simply nodded. That was her first indication that he really did know what a dangerous situation he was in, and her own apprehension took a quantum leap.

Lisa radioed ahead and explained the situation. As she was asking them to contact Alex, she started to imagine what it would be like if she had to tell Dave's family that the worst had happened. They already thought he was crazy for having anything to do with her. If she ended up getting him killed . . . oh, G.o.d, how was she ever going to deal with that?

Even though Dave was losing blood, for the first ten minutes or so he seemed alert. But by the half-hour mark he started to get groggy. And no matter how hard she held the pack against his leg, blood continued to seep out, eventually dripping to the floor below.

She kept talking to him, even though his responses grew more spa.r.s.e. Her fingers ached from pressing them so hard against his wound, but she wasn't going to let up. Not for one second. With the blood he was losing even with the pressure, she couldn't imagine what it would be like if she let go.

So she wasn't letting go.

"How are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm okay," he said with a weak smile. "Just thinking about tequila shots."

So was she. That and every other moment of the past few days that had brought them so close together. After everything that had happened between them, the very idea that she could lose him now was inconceivable.

As the minutes ticked by, Dave's respirations grew faster and more shallow and his eyes began to glaze over. Looking down, Lisa saw blood covering the floor beneath his seat, and she had to fight the ache of hopelessness that began to eat away at her.

Then she saw it. Far on the horizon, Brownsville was coming into view.

"Dave! We're almost there. Hold on, okay? We're almost there."

He nodded almost imperceptibly, slowly blinking his eyes.

She was losing him.

"Hey, Dave," she said, trying to keep her voice light. "What do you suppose Arnold and Bruce and Sylvester would do in a situation like this? They'd probably think it was no big deal. I mean, this is a piece of cake compared to hanging off helicopters and getting hit by an explosion at the top of a skysc.r.a.per, right?"

"Yeah," he said weakly. Then he rolled his head around to look at her. "But the difference is that they go home at the end of the day . . ." He took a breath. "No matter how many times they've been shot."

"So will you."

There was a long silence.

"Maybe," he said.

Looking over, she saw his eyes growing heavy, and his face was deathly pale.

"No," she said suddenly. "Not maybe. Don't you dare dare say maybe. I can see Brownsville. We'll be down in just a few minutes. I know you can hold on for a few more minutes." say maybe. I can see Brownsville. We'll be down in just a few minutes. I know you can hold on for a few more minutes."

He sighed weakly. "Lisa?"

"Don't talk, Dave. Save your strength. We'll be on the ground in no time."

"If things go wrong, tell Ashley I love her. And my family, too."

"Dave, stop it!" she said. "You're going to make it. You can tell them yourself!"

"Promise me."

"Dave-"

"Promise."

She swallowed hard, fighting the sobs that choked her throat. "I promise."

"Something else."

"Yes?"

"Promise me that no matter what happens, you won't blame yourself for this."

She clenched her teeth, willing herself not to cry. Of course she was going to blame herself. Now and through the rest of eternity.

"Lisa. Promise me."

She blinked hard to keep the tears away. "I promise."

He nodded a little. "You know what?"

"What?"

"This morning," he said, his voice fading, "when we were talking, I don't think I ever got around to what I was really trying to say."

"What's that?"

He said the words softly, almost inaudibly. "I love you." Lisa felt a rush of pure joy at the same time her heart was breaking. After all this time, to hear him say those words . . .

Then his eyes drifted closed.

"Dave?"

He didn't respond.

"Dave!"

Tears filled her eyes, clouding her vision. No. No. She had to see to land. She had to see clearly so she could bring this d.a.m.ned thing down in a perfect three-point landing, because that was all she could do for him now. Give him a soft landing and get him into that ambulance. She had to see to land. She had to see clearly so she could bring this d.a.m.ned thing down in a perfect three-point landing, because that was all she could do for him now. Give him a soft landing and get him into that ambulance.

She made contact with the tower again, and they told her an ambulance was ready and waiting on the runway. She swung around for her final approach, then brought the plane down as gently as she could. Off to one side she could see an ambulance shifting into gear to meet her.

She brought the plane to a halt, killed the engine, then turned to Dave again, continuing to put pressure against his wound until the paramedics could arrive. She put her other hand against his bloodstained cheek, then dropped it down to his shoulder. Sliding it down his arm, she took his hand in hers.

"I love you, too," she whispered. She knew he couldn't hear her. But she had to say it anyway, just in case.

Just in case she never got another chance.

The ambulance screeched to a halt. Two paramedics got out and rolled a stretcher up to the plane. They climbed up on the wing and opened the door.

"There's a bullet wound in his thigh," Lisa said. "He's lost a lot of blood."

"How long has he been unconscious?"

"Only a few minutes."

"Head wound, too?"

"Just a laceration," Lisa said.

"Okay. Let's get him out of here."

Soon they had Dave out of the plane and strapped to a gurney. They wheeled him quickly back to the ambulance and loaded him on board. Lisa circled the ambulance to get into the pa.s.senger seat.

"Hey!"

She turned back to see two men approaching, flashing badges. "Are you Lisa Merrick?"

"Yes?"

"Where's our drug counterfeiter?"

They were customs agents. She'd forgotten all about Robert. She lobbed her keys to one of them. "The cargo compartment. He's all yours."

She got into the vehicle and slammed the door behind her, then turned around to look through a small window into the back of the ambulance. A paramedic was already hooking Dave up to needles and tubes and G.o.d knew what else. His eyes were still closed. He wasn't moving. And he was pale. So pale.

She'd done all she could. She only prayed it was enough.

For Lisa, the next hour was h.e.l.l on earth.

They arrived at the emergency room, and the paramedics took Dave inside. All she knew at that point was that he was alive. Nothing else.

She paced the floor, then sat down in a waiting room chair for exactly three minutes before getting up to pace some more. If only somebody would tell tell her something. her something.

The emergency room was a busy place, but she felt strangely disconnected from all of it. Nurses and staff bustled around the area. A mother patted a coughing baby on the back. Children tussled with each other over a Happy Meal toy. An old lady read a tabloid newspaper. It seemed so surreal that life could be going on normally out here while Dave might be in there dying.

I love you.

She couldn't forget the elation she'd felt when she heard him say those three words. Still, it was something that was almost impossible for her to accept. So she wasn't going to accept it. Not yet. Not until everything was back to normal. It was even possible that he might not remember saying those words to her.

Or her saying those words to him.

"Lisa Merrick?"

Lisa spun around and came to her feet. "Yes?"

A man approached her wearing hospital scrubs. A doctor. She couldn't read his face, but she could tell he had news, and her stomach tightened with antic.i.p.ation.

"How is he?" she said.

"It was touch and go there for a while, but we got him stabilized. They're taking him up for surgery to remove the bullet and repair the damage."

Lisa put her hand against her chest. "Then he's going to be all right?"

"Yes. Depending on how much damage the bullet did, he could have a bit of a recovery period. But otherwise, he's going to be just fine."

Every one of Lisa's muscles went weak, and suddenly she felt light-headed. Her knees buckled a little, and the doctor caught her by the shoulders and lowered her to a chair.

"Are you all right?"