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gan's shore. The night, the terror. Then the gunshots and the screams. |
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"I won't discuss them," he said. "Not with you. Not with anyone." |
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He'd expected her to argue, but after her first shocked intake of breath at the coldness of his tone she didn't say a word. He continued to stare out the window without seeing anything until she shoved, hard, against his shoulder and pushed her way in front of him. |
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"What is it?" Chris tried to get his place back, but D.J. wouldn't budge. |
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"Get away from the window," she hissed. |
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Chris ignored her and looked outside. A black van eased through the parking lot, pulling into the space next to their rented truck. |
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"This is impossible," D.J. mumbled. "No one knows where we are. No one followed us." |
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She patted her jacket, an absentminded movement to check for a shoulder holster, obviously in place and full of a semiautomatic weapon. "Get in the bathroom," she ordered. |
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She didn't even turn around at his revolt, just continued to stare out the window. "Who's in charge here? Do what I tell you if you want to stay alive. I don't know how many of them there are." |
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"There's no way on this earth I'm hiding in the bathroom." |
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D.J. shot him an exasperated glance. "Listen, McCall, I don't have time to argue with you. I need you out of the line of fire so I can think straight. If you're standing in the middle of the room making |
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