The Cove

more."

    Quinlan got her into the gown and robe within minutes. It was difficult dressing an unconscious person, even a small one. Finally, he lifted her over his shoulder. "Let's get the hell out of here."

    They were through the back emergency door and nearly out the garage when the sirens went off.

    "The nurse," Quinlan said. "We should have tied her up, dammit."

    "We've got time. We'll make it." When Quinlan tired, Dillon took Sally. They were almost to the fence when the German shepherds, barking louder than the hounds of Baskerville, came racing smoothly toward them.

    Quinlan tossed out the other piece of meat. They didn't stop to see what the dogs did with it.

    When they got to the fence, Quinlan climbed it faster than he'd ever climbed anything in his life. At the top, he straddled the fence on his belly and leaned back toward Dillon as far as he could. "Hand her up to me."

    "She's like a boneless Foster Farms chicken," Dillon said, trying to get a firm grip on her. On the third try, Quinlan got hold of her wrists. He slowly pulled her up. He held her around the waist until Dillon was on top of the fence beside him. His arms were cramping by the time Dillon swiveled around and leaped to the ground. He brought her around and began to lower her. "Hurry, Quinlan, hurry. Okay, just another couple of inches. There, I've got her. Get down here!"

    The dogs were barking louder. The meat had stopped them for all of forty-five seconds.

    They heard several men yelling.

    Guns fired, one bullet sparked off the iron fence, so close to Quinlan's head that he felt the searing heat from it.

    A woman's sharp yell sounded behind the men.

    "Let's get the hell out of here," Quinlan said as he hefted Sally over his shoulder and ran as fast as he could toward the Oldsmobile.

    The guns didn't stop until they'd raced around the bend and were out of sight.

    "If they let the dogs out on us, we're in deep shit," Dillon said.

    Quinlan hoped they didn't. He didn't want to shoot those beautiful dogs.

    He was relieved when they slammed the car doors some four minutes later. ' Thank God for good-sized favors."

    "You got that right. Hey, that was fun. Now, your apartment, Quinlan?"

    "Oh, no, we're going to Delaware, just another hour up the road, Dillon. I'll give you directions. What surprises me is that they took her back to this place at all. They must have figured I'd come here first thing. I'll just bet you she would have been gone tomorrow morning. So, I'm not going to be as stupid. No way we're going back to my place."

    "You're right. When someone hit you over the head in The Cove, he would have searched your pockets. They know you're FBI. That's why they didn't kill you, I'd bet my Stairmaster on it. It would have been too big a risk for them."

    "Yeah. We're going to my parents' lake cottage. It's safe. No one knows about it except you. You haven't told anyone, have you, Dillon?"

    Dillon shook his head. "What are you going to do with her, Quinlan? This is highly irregular."

    Quinlan was holding her in his lap, her head cradled on his arm. He'd covered her with his black jacket. It was warm in the car. "We're going to wait until she comes out from under this drug, then see what she knows. Then we're going to clean everything up. How's that sound to you?''

    "Like we'll be a couple of damned heroes." Dillon sighed. "Brammer won't like it. He'll probably try to transfer us to Alaska for not being team players. But, hey, don't sell a hero short."

    She woke up to see a strange man looking down at her, his nose not more than six inches from hers. It took her a moment to realize that he was indeed flesh and blood and not some specter dredged up from a drugged vision. Her lips felt cracked. It was hard to make herself talk, but she did.

    "If Doctor Beadermeyer sent you, it won't matter." She spit on him.

    Dillon jerked back, wiped the back of his hand across his nose and cheek. "I'm a hero, not a bad guy. Beadermeyer didn't send me."

    Sally tried to sift through his words, make some sense of them. Her brain still felt like it wanted to sleep, like parts of it were numb, like an arm or leg that had been in a single position for too long. "You're a hero?"

    "Yeah, a real live hero."

    "Then James must be here."

    "You mean Quinlan?"

    "Yes. He's a hero too. He was the first hero I ever met. I'm sorry I spit on you, but I thought you were another one of those horrible men."

    "It's okay. You just lie still and I'll get