Something in Mitch's gut told him it wasn't over. They wouldn't stop there.

Dark skies and continuous rain provided a cover of near invisibility for them as they forged downriver headed for the sanctity of the DMZ and the safety of South Korea. Allie crouched low in the middle of the boat as he'd asked. He and the others provided a wall of protection, but none would be a complete shield in the eye of a well-placed sniper. Mitch's chest tightened. Soon they'd reach the one area of the river they were most vulnerable. The last half mile of North Korean territory consisted of steep cliffs on both sides and nowhere to hide.

Kwan wasn't stupid. If he planned an ambush, that would be the most logical location. At least in Mitch's trained mind, it seemed the best. All he could hope was they didn't have the capabilities to outrun them and get ahead of the high-speed boat. Every muscle tightened the moment they entered the cliffs. Mitch scanned the upper regions for any signs of life.

Nothing. But he didn't relax. He wouldn't until the package had been delivered to safe ground. The package. Swallowing hard, he couldn't completely convince himself to think of her as a package. Although she had a nice package he wished he could unwrap and explore. Visions of her naked form danced behind his eyes tormenting his self-control. It had only been a glimpse, but it had been enough to ignite a burning curiosity he couldn't deny.

When this was over, he truly needed to rethink his decision of living a life alone. He lifted his night-vision goggles to rest his eyes. Glancing at her, he knew those big, brown eyes stared his way even though he couldn't see her. He could feel the heat of her stare. Not condescending, not judgmental… simply sensual, which shocked him to the core. What would a woman of her stature, her intelligence want with a man like him? She had a family, a life, and a career. And he, Mitch sighed, sliding the goggles back in place, he came from nothing, had nothing and lived for only one reason… to serve as a Marine.

The goggles were barely in place when he caught sight of a movement in the distance high on the far bank. A quick adjustment zoomed in on the area. From this distance, he couldn't get a fix on what they were doing, but he sensed it wasn't good. A spark and a trail of smoke widened his eyes.

"Incoming,” he yelled, causing Lou to counter the attack with an evasive maneuver. The grenade landed several hundred feet short, sending a wave of water hustling after them. The wave hit with a solid force. Lou's skill had them riding it with the ease of a surfboarder.

"The border's in sight,” Dean called out, pointing at the lighted compound.

Twin guard towers stood on either side of the waterway entrance. The sudden flash of strong beams of light on the river lit up their position as if it were daylight. Damn, might as well draw a bull's-eye on their backs. They just had to cross under the fence and they'd be safe. A shrill whistling in the air snapped his head around to see another missile-fired grenade headed their way. This had more stamina and seemed like it wouldn't miss. Must've been shot from an RPG-7, he mused right before it hit the water within ten feet of them.

"Brace yourselves,” Mitch screamed as he turned, dove, and wrapped himself around Allie.

A solid wall of water lifted the boat six feet into the air, tossing it end over end like a toy. As the boat flipped, so did the well-prepared Marines. Lou, Eric, and Dean entered at angles, landing them closer to the safety zone. Mitch and Allie hit the water curled in a ball of bodies. Seconds passed with no sight of them. Mitch hit bottom, twisted, loosening his legs from around Allie, then shoved off propelling them upward. He guided them to the surface. The sound of her gasp when they broke the top sent relief crashing through his system. They hit the water and went under so fast, he hadn't gotten the chance to tell her to take a deep breath and hold it. But she was smarter than that, he laughed at himself. Common sense made a person hold their breath before going under. It was a natural reflex to prevent drowning.

"You okay,” he gasped over the roar of the river as he held her in the rescue swimmer position. Her back pressed to his chest, his arm under hers around her chest while he maintained buoyancy for them both.

"Yeah.” She tilted her chin trying to see his face. “You okay?"

Mitch wrapped around her equaled ecstasy in her book. The cold water gave her a momentary shock when they first hit, but she managed to capture enough air in her lungs to survive. Sinking deeper and deeper, her heart raced, but she refused to succumb to fear. He had a hold on her and she believed he wouldn't let her drown, although it seemed like forever before he brought them to the surface. They'd been fired upon and nearly killed, but he'd saved her again. Cradled in those strong arms gave her the confidence to relax in the water even though she didn't know how to swim.

In her position, she spotted the others frantically searching the powerful currents for them before Mitch did. Unable to do anything else for fear of causing an issue in their progress, she gave a loud sharp whistle, hoping to catch their attention. Lou spotted them and motioned to the others. Once they regrouped, they swam for the border. Allie kicked her legs in an effort to help speed the motion.

Cold seeped into her bones and she prayed she'd never be this wet again. Powerful strokes brought them closer and closer. Bright lights shone on them. Voices called out in foreign tongues. It surprised her when Mitch replied. He spoke Korean. Lou, Eric, and Dean crossed through the fenced gate that the border patrol opened. They lifted from the water and stood on the dock while she and Mitch brought up the rear. They were a few feet away from crossing the line when water exploded behind them.

Mitch curled in a ball gloving around her as if forming another layer of skin for her protection. He tucked her head under his as they tumbled over and over through the giant wave. They bounced from one object to another like a ball in a pinball game. The mound of muscle that was Mitch softened the repercussion of the blows. Several feet inside the safety zone, they washed up on shore just past the docks.

Lou reached them first. The sound of his voice called to her from somewhere far off, tugging her back to consciousness.

"Miss Summers, Mitch can you hear me?"

Seconds ticked away before she pried her eyes open. On a hefty bout of coughing, she cleared the water from her lungs and grappled for air. Mitch didn't move. His eyes were closed.

"Mitch,” she gasped.

He didn't respond.

"Mitch, man can you hear me?” Lou tried to pry him from around her.

Even unconscious he still protected her. His breathing seemed almost nonexistent. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Over and over, she called his name to no avail. Eric, Dean, and several medics for the Marine Corps ran to their aid. It took three men to unwrap Mitch's arms and legs from around her.

On hands and knees she crawled to his outstretched body. Please, God. Please let him live.

"His vitals are weak,” one of the medics stated.

"Let's get him inside,” the other replied.

Allie struggled to her feet as they placed him on a stretcher. Lou grasped her elbow and wrapped an arm around her waist right before her knees buckled. Lifting her gaze to his, she commanded on a graveled breath, “He's got to live."

"Mitch is strong. He'll make it."

"He has to."

Exhaustion controlled her system as her legs weakened and her eyes closed. Nothing mattered to her but Mitch.