Mace moved up beside Simon. “I’ll help as well.”
Simon found the pipe wrench and used it to sweep the last bits of broken glass from the back window. “I’m going in.”
“I’ve got your back,” Mace said and helped Simon shimmy halfway through the window.
“Holly, can you reach toward the back of the truck?”
“Only if these idiots will let go of me.”
“If you let her go,” Simon said, “we’ll help you out as well. If you don’t let go, we’ll get her out without your help and leave you to drown.”
“Time’s running out, boys,” Holly said. “What’s it to be?”
“Well damn, there goes a thousand bucks,” the driver said. “She’s coming out.” Moments later, Holly was shoved toward Simon. He grabbed her forearm and pulled her through the window, into his arms and kissed her.
She captured his cheeks between her palms and kissed him back. “I knew you’d come.”
“What about us? It’s getting deep in here,” the passenger said.
“Much as they deserve to drown, we can’t let it happen.” Holly scrambled out of the way.
Before Simon could go back in, Mace handed him a wicked-looking knife like the one Simon had carried in his Delta Force days. “You might need this.”
Armed with the knife, Simon pushed through the back window.
Water had risen to the point that both men trapped in their seatbelts had to tip their heads back to breathe.
Simon reached for the driver first, felt beneath the water for the seatbelt. He slid the knife under the belt and sliced through it.
By then, the water was covering the guy’s face, only his nose remaining free.
Free of the belt, he pushed upward.
Simon started to move back to get out of the way, but the guy in the passenger seat captured his arm and held on with a panicked death grip. Simon fought to free his arm.
The driver attempted to push past him. In the confusion, they were all three stuck. With water rushing in, Simon had barely sucked in a breath when a hand clamped down on his ankles and yanked him backward, out of the cab, through the window and into open air.
Mace shoved him aside, reached in and pulled the driver out.
The man dropped onto the bed of the truck, coughing the water out of his lungs.
Mace pointed at the man. “Make any stupid moves and I’ll shove you back in that truck and let you drown.” To Simon, he said. “Go. Get the other guy.”
Simon drew in a breath and dove into the truck, felt his way to the passenger still trapped in his seatbelt, struggling to break free.
Simon sliced through the guy’s belt at the same time the man managed to shove open his door. The two men swam out into the murky water and came up for air.
The man he’d just rescued turned on Simon and tried to shove him under.
Simon fought for the surface.
A shout from above made the man stop.
Simon came up to find Holly standing in the truck bed, holding the pipe wrench like a sledgehammer and looking like an avenging warrior—a wet, bedraggled warrior with flashing eyes and a fierce scowl. “That’s right. You heard me. You hurt him, and I’ll crush your skull and leave you for the alligators to finish off.”
Simon shoved the man toward the bank. He crawled up the muddy slope and collapsed on the ground near the rear of the truck.
Mace and Holly stood nearby, with the driver seated on the ground, his wrists secured behind his back in a zip tie.
