In that mystic swirl of water, Darcy Renshaw felt the determination, the drive, the strength of will that powered countless men and women to give all for others.
And she'd been focused only on herself. Her professional mission. Her personal needs.
How had she strayed so far off course in every aspect of her life? Selfishly, she'd focused only on her need to fight in Cantou, not what the Air Force needed from her.
Even worse, on the beach she'd thought only of her own disappointment, never once considering where Max might be coming from, given what he'd shared about his past.
How damned ironic that in growing up a person realized how very far she still had left to go.
Rushing water swirled, caressing her skin. She needed to wake up. Diving alone wasn't safe and who knew how far behind her Max would be.
A dolphin circled in front of her...Darcy squinted, searched the features. Then reminded herself Max's dolphins were penned, although this one looked a bit like Lucy.
The dolphin swam closer, closer still until she bumped Darcy with her snout.
Ouch. Apparently subtle wasn't this one's strong suit either.
Darcy slowed, stopped. You want to play?
The dolphin moved closer, nudged again.
Not right now, if you don't mind. I'm busy running from getting my heart tromped.
The sleek body shoved. Propelled Darcy forward.
Ouch!
Her side tingled from the powerful push. Unease bubbled through her with as much force as the rushing current around her. The dolphin looked insistent. Even pissed.
Unease trickled down her spine. There were few reports of dolphin attacks, but the mammals possessed the strength and speed to disable her in half a heartbeat.
A diver eased into view in the distance. Thank God. Max would know what to do.
The figure eased closer, clearer. Darker.
No wild dive shorts screamed colors through the crystalline waters. Just an ominous black wet suit. The figure charged forward. Spear in hand leading the way. Followed by another diver. And another.
Unease roared into full-blown panic, certainty— vulnerability. Without her plane. Or even her 9mm.
She was under attack.
Chapter 10
Fear twisted in Darcy's gut, constricting her breathing faster than the dolphin swimming away. But she wouldn't let panic conquer her. Forcing steady drags of air into her lungs, she backstroked behind the wing of the submerged plane. She needed time to strategize.
What the hell was going on? And why?
Wasted thoughts at the moment. She had to concentrate on survival. Questions could come later. And, damn it, she would have a later.
She slid her hand to her thigh, freed her knife, a knife only meant for cutting away seaweed. It was better than nothing.
Blinking inside her mask, she studied the distant cluster of swimmers, at least a couple of hundred yards away. And closing. Two spears glistened, sparked rainbow refractions in mocking arch.
Her mind raced with options unfolding like an in-flight emergency checklist. Could she make it back to shore? To the boat? Or maybe she should continue to hide in the plane wreckage and defend herself until Max arrived.
Even then, her odds sucked.
She considered luring the divers away from Max. For all of three roaring breaths.