He went down hard, his chin striking the edge of the navigation console.

His gun skittered across the floor, stopping near the open doorway.

Kane was already moving toward the back exit, his heavy coat flapping behind him.

“Stop him!” Kane yelled to the remaining guards as he vanished onto the snowy deck.

The two other men raised their weapons, their faces pale but determined.

They knew their lives were over if they stayed, and their only chance was to clear a path.

I scrambled behind the steel base of the steering column.

“Isabella!” I shouted over the roar of the engines.

“Stay down!” she called back from behind the lower deck door.

Another bullet punched through the wooden paneling just inches above my head.

The smell of burnt gunpowder and cheap diesel fuel filled the small cabin.

The yacht slammed against the wooden pilings of the dock with a screech of tearing fiberglass.

The impact threw everyone to the side.

I grabbed the dropped semi-automatic from the floor.

My fingers wrapped around the cold metal grip.

Through the shattered window, I could see the harbor docks.