At the cliff face, a woman with a child-shaped bundle roped to her body was sliding down the shale. Alistair had no time to see. Barry was hauling back his fist but Alistair was before him, smashing, working with a strength he’d never known he had. Never dreamed he could use. He hit. Hit again.
And Barry slumped.
Enough. The threat momentarily allayed, Alistair whirled to find the woman standing staring down at him. With a pistol in each hand.
Beside her was Sarah. Sarah… There was a crease of crimson on her forehead. She lay limp and lifeless in the sand.
‘Sarah…’ He moved, but the woman stopped him. She stepped between Alistair and Sarah and the pistols pointed straight at his heart.
‘Wh…who are you?’ she whispered.
‘Alistair.’ It was a stupid thing to say. A really stupid thing to say. But he’d gone past thinking. All he could see was Sarah. All he could think of was Sarah.
‘You’re Sarah’s Alistair?’ Noa whispered, and Alistair nodded. How on earth she’d known he couldn’t tell, but he was past disputing such a basic part of his being.
‘Yes. Yes, I am.’
The woman looked at him for a long, long moment. And then her body seemed to slump. She turned to where Barry was hauling himself together, gathering himself to lash out again.
The guns moved away from Alistair and pointed straight at Barry.
‘Stay where you are!’ she spat. ‘Stay.’ Her glance moved to Sarah. ‘Alistair,’ she whispered, as if it was a mantra. ‘Sarah’s Alistair. Please. Save Sarah. Help Sarah. We need…help.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE second helicopter was ready to leave at dusk. It took away Larry’s elite police squad, and also Barry-in handcuffs, being taken to Brisbane to face criminal charges.
Larry was the last on the chopper. He’d apologised so many times Alistair had been forced to reassure him.
‘It’s not your fault.’
‘No, but Barry’s a cop, and when one of our own goes bad…well, we all feel it.’
‘But you fixed it.’ Alistair gave a rueful smile as they stood beside the waiting helicopter. ‘I never knew the results of a telephone call could be so amazing. How long did it take you to reach us?’
‘God knows. I heard that shot down the phoneline and I forget how fast I moved,’ Larry told him. ‘I came closer than I ever want to come again to having a heart attack.’
‘I was having one of my own,’ Alistair admitted. He hesitated. ‘You’ll see that Noa and Azron are safe?’
‘They’re already in Cairns,’ Larry told him. The first evacuation helicopter had left some hours before, with Noa and Azron and a full medical team aboard. ‘I had a radio message just now. Word is that the little one’s stable. The doctors think he’ll make it. Thanks to you.’
‘Thanks to Sarah.’
‘Mmm.’ They’d stared out into the dusk. It had taken time to organise the second helicopter flight, giving them time to think things through.
‘What do you think will happen?’ Alistair asked, and Larry gave a rueful smile.
‘To who? To Barry? I suspect he’ll end up in a psychiatric institution. He seems to have lost all logic. To the people behind this racket? The police in Sydney have moved to arrest the ringleader. The smuggling ring is smashed. Howard might end up in jail, but he’s small fry. He might get off with a suspended sentence. The guy behind it, though, will be put away for a very long time. Robbing people who are terrified for their lives… Jail’s too good for him. And as for Noa and Amal and Azron-their story will be checked, but if it holds water, and I have no reason to suspect it won’t, then they’ll be granted refugee status and cared for. The word from Cairns is that Amal is going to pull through. They’ve been very lucky.’
‘Or very unlucky. Depending how you look at it.’
‘As you say.’ The helicopter was loaded, they were waiting for Larry, and Larry turned to grip Alistair’s hand. ‘Thanks, mate. Invite me to your wedding, will you?’
Alistair paused. ‘What?’
‘Are you arguing?’
And Alistair grinned. ‘No,’ he said at last. ‘No, I’m not.’
The ward was in darkness.
Sarah had come round almost at once, surfacing to chaos. Noa weeping. Barry shouting obscenities. Alistair swearing, over and over again, but his fingers so tender as they probed the pain across her forehead. Larry and his men bursting through the cleft, barking instructions.
Being held by Alistair…
And then Alistair having to leave her. The jolting had made Azron’s leg bleed. He had to focus on the little boy. But he was still there, supervising as one of the men held a pressure pack above the crease line made by the bullet across her forehead, making sure she wasn’t jolted as she was carried into a waiting truck, refusing to even consider her protest that she was okay, she could walk…
He’d been with her to show her the results of X-rays-X-rays that showed she’d been concussed by the force of the bullet but that it had grazed her and done no substantial injury.
He’d held her briefly-so briefly.
He’d been needed. So needed.
Azron had needed him and so had Noa, and then when they had left there was Barry, who’d needed sedating, and Howard, who had still been yelling in pain and anxiety, and a kid who’d had the temerity to come in with an earache in the middle of the drama.
The nurses, following instructions, had tucked her into the ward and given her something that made her sleepy, had darkened the room and checked her every now and then…
Had let her sleep.
She had. And now it was dark, and she opened her eyes and Alistair was standing in the doorway. Just looking. Not moving.
‘Alistair…’
It was a whisper, but it was enough.
He covered the distance between door and bed in an instant and she was gathered in his arms. She was being held. Cradled. Held against his chest, her breasts moulding to him, feeling the beat of his heart against hers.
She was where she most wanted to be.
Home.
‘Alistair…’
‘I thought I’d lost you,’ he murmured, his face in her hair. ‘Sarah, I thought you’d gone. I heard you scream and I thought… I thought…’
‘Hush.’
He shook his head, holding her slightly away from him so he could see her face in the dim light.
‘We’ve been fools,’ he told her. ‘We’ve wasted time.’
‘No…’
‘Sarah, shut up and listen,’ he said, but there was such a wealth of loving behind his words that she could hardly take offence. She could hardly take it in. ‘I love you,’ he told her. ‘I’ve loved you for six long years and more, and I love you still. And if you let me… If you let me then I intend to love you for the rest of your life.’
‘But-’
‘Hush.’ It was his turn to silence her. He laid her back on the pillows and put a finger against her lips. ‘I think it’s time we explained. It’s time we talked. You see, I fell in love with you the first time I saw you. Doing that crazy
