Back with the team, we deployed according to
<
plan, setting up ambushes at three border
crossings. On the third day, gunfire erupted from Checkpoint Two. We held our positions at Checkpoint Three, adrenaline pumping. This
was it.
The gunfire got closer, more intense. “Checkpoint Three, be advised, suspects are heading your way. Prepare to engage.” “Roger that.”
Less than three minutes later, figures burst
through the brush, running for the border. We
moved in, hot on their heels. Gunfire and shouts
echoed through the trees.
There were three left, two of whom we shot
down. The last one, their leader, kept running.
One of our guys took a hit, clutching his
stomach.
“You okay, Chris?”
“Fine,” he gasped, pushing forward, hand
pressed to his wound. But he was slowing
down, sweat pouring down his face.
I grabbed him. “The medic’s coming, Chris.
Stay put.” I snatched my radio. “Officer down!
く
11:08
47
We need a medic at Checkpoint Three, ASAP!”
“Sarah, don’t…” Chris started.
I was already chasing the cartel leader, not
looking back. “Chris, don’t worry. I’m not letting this bastard escape.”
Thorns ripped at my face, drawing blood, but I
barely felt it. We were close to the border. I just
knew I couldn’t let him get across.
“Stop! Freeze! Or I’ll shoot!”
The man in the baseball cap turned. “You’re a
woman?”
“What’s it to you? You’re still not getting
away.”
He smirked. “Not getting away? Watch me.” He
lunged for the border.
I kicked off a tree, launched myself at him, and tackled him to the ground. “Not a chance.”
He bucked, and I felt a cold sting in my gut. He
was strong, rolling over, pinning me beneath
him. Then, again and again, the cold steel biting
into my flesh.
He pulled out the bloody knife, a cruel smile twisting his lips. “This is man’s work, lady.
<
What are you doing here?”
Blood from the knife dripped onto my nose. “Get off her!” someone yelled.
He jerked his leg free and plunged the knife
into my chest. I felt a rush of warmth, then
everything went red.
“Sarah!”
“Sarah!” I heard my teammates shouting. “Don’t move! Stay down!” Someone tackled
him.
I finally let go of his leg. I heard so many voices
calling my name. I saw the sky above the trees,
the bluest I’d ever seen. And then, as my
consciousness slipped away, I felt… tired. So
tired. I closed my eyes to rest.
- 8.
The day Sarah died, I messed up at work, big
time. In the meeting, I, the usually decisive CEO,
was completely out of it. I missed a critical
clause in a major contract, one that would’ve
cost us millions. My assistant, thankfully, caught
it in time. “Mr. Miller,” she asked, “are you
feeling okay? Jet lag maybe? Didn’t sleep well?
<
11:08
Should we head back to the hotel?”
Just then, I heard sirens screaming down the highway. Ambulances, too. The pen slipped from my fingers. I rushed to the window. A line of police cars escorted an ambulance, lights
flashing.
“A cop’s been hurt,” I said. “Find out who.” “Mr. Miller,” my assistant hesitated, “are you worried about… your ex–wife?”
My fists clenched without me even realizing it. “Just go,” I snapped.
