Maura furiously squeezed off three shots at the man who'd shot James, sending him flying backward. He was on the ground, still hanging on to his weapon.
As if the shots were a signal, the bullets started flying. Everyone was shooting in a different direction, not seeming sure about who they were supposed to aim at. Maura dragged James to the doorway with her uninjured arm and into the hall, getting some cover while she frantically tried to pack his wound with one hand. The radiating agony in her shoulder was back, something new probably broke or tore when she and Fassell hit the water.
"Youidiot!"Maura hissed, "What the hell were you thinking?" She squeezed off another warning shot as a shadow moved to the entryway. The answering yelp told her someone was down.
"At the time, saving your life seemed like a good idea," James forced a grin. "Better my chest than your head, darling, which is where that bullet was meant for."
Maura kissed the top of his head. "Thank you, but- do you think we can make a demand to get the helicopter pilot out here? I've got to get you off this ship!"
"I doubt it," James gritted his teeth as she pushed harder on the cloth napkins held against his wound. "I believe he was the second man shot."
Groaning, Maura was forced to fire twice more to keep the doorway clear. "We don't have much time. How many bullets do you have left?"
James checked, "Five. We can't hold this position."
"We have to move," agreed Maura, "give me your shoes?"
"I beg your- ah, youbrilliantgirl!” James took a breath, coughing. “O'Connell told you about the C-4! I'd forgotten!"
"Yes, well," Maura said generously, "getting beaten up and then shot in the chest will do that to you." She faked a smile as she got a closer look at James's wound. Far enough away from the heart, but the amount of blood looked like the bullet nicked a lung. Taking a deep breath, she propped his gun hand on his knee to keep it steady. "I swear that if Holbrook survives this, I'm going to find him, kill him, bury him, dig him up, bring him back to life just so I can kill him again! Who wasn't that little asshole double-crossing?" Maura's hands were rapidly pulling the putty compound from the heels of his expensive loafers.
James shook his head. "I brought him into the Corporation, he had no family outside of the group, really. I never doubted his loyalty."
Maura sighed, looking around her, "Maybe that's why. He must have thought we were leaving without him. If he had waited one second more before shooting at us, I would have gotten him out of there. Your arm still all right?"
Calmly firing off a shot at the door, James smiled as he heard another howl. "Just fine, darling. Where are we with the C-4?" His arm was rock steady, but Maura watched the sweat streaming down his face and more red bloom from the white napkins over the wound.
"Just fine," she lied, thinking,Bloody O'Connell! You left me without a blasting cap or a detonator! Looking down the hall, Maura leaned into James. "Sweetheart, I need to get into that cabin. Are you all right to hold your position?"
"Kiss me and then run along, darling." She did, desperately pressing her mouth against his, reveling in the taste and feel of his lips against hers again.
"I won't be a moment," she promised, crawling down the hall as he shot at the door again. The thought that they were down to four bullets made Maura scramble inside the cabin. She raced for the bed and scrabbled at the objects on the bedside table. Seizing the alarm clock, she raced out the door again, dropping to her knees just in time to avoid a bullet. "Almost ready, and then we'll get you out of here, all right?"
James coughed painfully. "Give me your gun, darling. I'm out."
Handing him hers, Maura forced a smile. "Two bullets, make them count." Fingers flying, she yanked the wires out of the alarm clock and created a detonator for the C-4. Frantically scanning the hallway, she spotted a propane heater, used for chilly nights. Crawling across the narrow passage, she wired the bomb to the heating element and began pulling James down the hall and out to the launch area. "The launch boat is gone, so we're going to have to jump. I'll help you swim--"
"Only one problem with that. I can't swim."
Maura stared at him as if he suddenly sprouted another head. "But... you have that gigantic sailboat back home?"
He shrugged painfully, "Because I prefer to be on the ship, not under it."
Pulling him to the back of the deck and grabbing a flotation device, Maura fired off their two last shots. "Do you trust me?"
James coughed again, an awful hacking sound but still managed a smile. "Of course," he said.
Kissing him fiercely, Maura wrapped her arms around him and fell sideways into the water. It was a blessedly short fall, only eight feet or so, but James's body convulsed and she knew how badly he was hurt. Hooking his arms into the lifesaver, Maura tied the rope attached from the float to her waist and began backstroking as quickly as her exhausted body could. Her left leg was still badly damaged from Fassell's fists, so she was forced to propel them along with only her right.
"How much time do we have before the blast?" James ducked as they heard the "thunk!" of a bullet hit close by into the water.
"We’re going to dunk under the water in five, ready?" Maura's teeth were chattering, suddenly terrified she'd wired the thing wrong. "Five, four, thr-"
The yacht exploded in a stately one-two punch: a painfully yellow fireball from the center searing their eyes and the red heat of the blast shoving them violently underwater. When Maura yanked them back to the surface, flaming debris was raining down around them. He lay still in her arms, and terrified, she slapped his cheeks. "James? James! James goddamnit, you answer me!"
Groaning, he forced his eyes open. "You told me onfive,MacLaren."
Sobbing even while she smiled, Maura kissed him repeatedly and started swimming again. Making her way parallel to the shore, she swam them to an inflatable tethered to another boat. Looking up, she checked to make sure all the lights were dark. If anyone was on board, the blast certainly would have brought them out. Rolling James into the boat, her blood ran cold as she saw the red flow from his abdomen was increasing. Getting the tiny motor started, she turned them away from the fire boats racing for the Saudi's burning yacht. What was left of it was at water level now, the blaze still too intense to approach.
