“Treat what?”

He tapped his temple. “The tumor.”

His speech. His vision issues. Is the tumor real?

“But I’ll reach my goals first. I have to accomplish something with my life and bringing you revenge has given me a purpose.” He removed the gun and pointed it at Derrick again. “Just because I can’t kill him the way we agreed is not a reason to give up.”

Ava saw his hand tighten around his gun.

Time to act.

She scrambled back to her feet, nearly tipping over onto her face.

I’m going to end up with a broken nose.

Troy took a step in her direction. “Get down!”

She turned and ran toward the side of the bridge, throwing herself against the railing as she tried to find her footing to hoist herself up.

“Colleen!” Troy screamed behind her.

29

All Mason’s nerves fired at once as Ava wrestled to her feet and veered toward the edge of the bridge. She slammed into the rail and started to scramble up, leaning forward to keep her balance with her hands tied behind her.

His heart stopped. Mason took two running steps and his collar abruptly choked him. He whirled around to see Ray’s incensed face. “You can’t run out there!” he shouted with the back of Mason’s coat collar in his grip.

“Get down,” shouted Parek. “He’s out!”

Mason turned back to the bridge and saw Troy rush from the protection of the cargo doors toward Ava. Mason instinctively ducked, expecting to hear shots from the snipers.

No shots. He watched as Troy threw himself at Ava and hauled her off the railing. She fought back, swinging her head at his jaw and kicking backward with her heels. Troy jogged sideways, keeping Ava between him and the snipers, and leaped into the back of his van. The cargo doors slammed shut.

“They didn’t take the shot,” muttered Mason.

“Did she do that to draw him out?” asked Ray. “And we blew it?”

“Happened too soon,” said Parek, glancing back at the SWAT team. “They hadn’t received official clearance to shoot yet. We didn’t think the situation had degraded to that point.”

“She just risked her life to give them the shot!” Mason shouted at Parek. “Now look where she is!”

Parek held his gaze. “She moved too soon. Not our fault.”

“God damn it!” Mason looked back at the white van. The side of its cargo hold was solid metal without windows. He couldn’t see anyone through the passenger window in the cab. What was Troy doing to Ava in the back?

“We need to regroup,” said Parek. “When the other team gets here—”

Their heads jerked as an engine started. The van’s tires squealed as Troy stepped on the gas and yanked the steering wheel toward the other end of the bridge. The van jolted forward and the wheels grated as it attempted the sharp turn. Smoke blew from the back tires as they left tread on the bridge. The van made the turn and hurtled away from the men.

“Let’s go!” Parek slid into the driver’s seat of his vehicle and slammed the door.

Mason’s brain froze. Go with Parek or drive my own car? Ray turned him toward his own car and pushed, making the decision for him. Mason heard the crack of a gun from the direction of one of the snipers.

Tires squealed and Mason turned around in time to see the van abruptly swerve to the left, its front tire flat as it hurtled toward the low railing near the far end of the bridge.

“NOOOO!”

Time seemed to slow as he watched the van plow through the barrier. He bolted to the near side of the bridge, gripped the rails, and looked over. The van tipped over the edge and fell nose-first, landing on the far bank of the Multnomah Channel.

The roar in Mason’s head drowned out the crash.

The van toppled onto its side and rolled, tumbling down the steep bank and into the water.

The splash was deafening.

Ava!

Mason started to run. His heart pounded in his head and his boots slammed the pavement. He strained for oxygen, sprinting as he’d never run before, keeping one eye on the white van in the water. He emerged from under the arched truss structure, gauging the distance to run to the island road on foot and loop around down the bank of the channel.

Too long. Not enough time.

He stopped where the van had plowed through the guardrail. The drop to the bank was a good twenty feet. He’d break a leg. He looked to his left. If he doubled back, he’d land in the water if he jumped. But it was higher.

He stared down. The nose of the van had sunk. Black water covered the windshield and crawled toward the roof. No one emerged from the van.

Do something. Now.

Mason dashed back to the start of the truss, kicked off his boots, yanked off his coat, and climbed to the top of the guardrail. To his left he heard Ray shout; Mason tuned him out.

He threw off his hat, took a breath, and jumped.

Ava couldn’t see.

Troy had flung her into the van, and she’d landed on her back—her breath knocked out. Troy had jerked the cargo doors shut and crawled over her toward the front of the van. She’d tried to head butt him, and he’d punched her in the face. She’d lain on the floor, gasping to get her lungs functioning. He’d started the van, and she’d been thrown to the side as he turned and floored the gas. Both her shoulders and her head screamed in pain as she was tossed around in the back of the van.

She’d tried to catch her balance so she could scoot to the front and stop him. She’d press the brake pedal with her head if she had to. Before she could get her bearings, the van crashed and tipped forward. After a full second of weightlessness, she fell and slammed into the backs of the front seats as the nose of the van hit the ground. She lost her breath again as blackness engulfed her vision.