Page 35 of Touchdown

I laughed. “Made you look, didn't I?”

“Made me look up the word, asshole, in the dictionary. I saw exactly the picture I expected to see.”

“They reflect light.” Noah was playing it soft—a lot softer than he really was. He's looking to be underestimated. Was there a way to use that? “Not all of us came out here outfitted for war games. It was all we had to help us see what you were up to.”

“Smart guys always have a smart answer.” The goon snorted as he spun the weapon back to Noah. “How's that working out for you, smart guy?”

Noah looked down at his bare feet. His shoulder slumped visibly. Too visibly.

He's acting.

Overacting? Could the goon tell? But Noah had to be ready as soon as we thought of something, anything, we could do to escape.

Like what, genius?

I was supposed to be so smart. Supposed to know all about strategy. The game is supposed to prepare you for life.

How did anyone prepare for something like this?

The man with the head injury was dead weight, but he appeared to be down so deep because of the trank, not because of concussion. Or so I hoped. I'm a player, not the sports doc. But I knew enough to make a quick, careful check to verify he wasn't at any risk of a spine or neck injury.

From the look of things, he hadn't twisted or bruised himself again when he fell. Judging from the abrasions on his palms, he'd caught himself with both hands, averting any serious injury.

He would have never passed out at all, if not for his treacherous partner's trank.

Huh. What was that really about? Two men gunning for one promotion?

I let none of these thoughts show on my face. But I made a mental note for my files. We were up against one tricky piece of work.

“He's fine to travel,” I said. “One, two, three, lift from the knee. On my count.”

Noah nodded. A minute later, we had him on our impromptu gurney and were carrying him down to the beach. Me leading. Noah at the feet. The goon with the rifle at the rear. Since he was the guy wearing the headlamp, I got a bouncy, shadow-filled light that forced me to step with care.

Nobody spoke.

The helicopter was mostly a large dark shape. There was no sky but the rain had let up. When the goon looked in the direction of the rolling surf, the light showed that the tide had gone out as far as we could see. That wasn't terribly far thanks to the weather, but far enough.

“He'll be all right on the beach for a minute,” I said. “Let's get the other guy before we load the helicopter.”

Noah looked at the guy with the gun. Our captor grunted. We took that for a yes.

Chapter 24

Back in the trees, I knocked into a branch, and a rivulet of warm rain slapped my neck to run down my back. The tickle made my skin crawl.

As if it wasn't crawling enough already. What with the guy pointing a trank gun at naked me and equally naked Noah.

“The FBI isn't cool about sexual harassment,” I said. “But you still have a chance to save yourself. Join team good guy. Help rescue the quarterback.”

“What sexual harassment?” he asked. “I'm not the one who told you to party naked out here.”

“It's the beach,” I said. “We thought we were alone!”

“Yeah, yeah. You think a lot of things, don't you, buddy?”

Noah said nothing. He was smarter than both of us put together.

The second guy was still knocked out, on his side, his good arm cradling his hurt one. In other words, he didn't seem to have moved. Creepy.

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