Mikhail saw the slight movement from the corner of his eye. “Damn you, you’re supposed to be dead. Don’t move!” His hold against her throat lightened and almost immediately he saw that Becca was coming out of it. He clouted her hard on the side of the head, and shoved her away from him. He leaped to his feet, pulled a Zippo lighter from his pocket and set it to the bedding. In an instant, the blanket and sheets burst into flame.

Thomas fired the derringer. Mikhail yelled and grabbed his arm as the bullet punched him backward. He hit the wall but didn’t fall. Adam dove for his gun. Thomas fired again, but Mikhail had twisted low and the bullet just grazed the side of his head.

Thomas fell back, the derringer falling from his hand. Adam twisted about, his gun raised, but Mikhail was out of the bedroom, and when Adam fired, the bullet hit the door frame. Mikhail slammed the door behind him and the flames gushed higher with the sudden rush of air, igniting the pillows, the thick brocade drapes that were ripped from Adam’s run into the bedroom.

“Damnation,” Adam shouted. “Becca, are you all right?” He leaned over and slapped her face. “Come on, we’ve got to get out of here. Damn, the drapes are on fire now.” He scrambled on his knees to where Thomas lay on his back. He shook him. “Thomas, open your eyes. That’s it. Now, can you make it?”

Thomas just smiled at him. “No, unfortunately not, Adam. I think this is the end of the line for me. Get Becca out of here. Tell her I love her.”

“Don’t be a jackass,” Adam said. “We’re all getting out of here. Come on, you can do it.” He wrapped an arm around Thomas and jerked to his feet, pulling Thomas with him. He started to lift him over his shoulder.

“No, not yet,” Thomas said, the pain flooding over him now, drawing at his brain, making everything darken, darken. “No, dammit, we’ll get out of here. Becca, get yourself together! I’m not going to lose you now.”

Becca was sitting now, shaking her head, trying to breathe. She heard agents yelling outside, prayed they wouldn’t try to come into the burning room, prayed they’d be ready to pump a hundred bullets into Mikhail when he came out of the house. She said, “I’m okay. Just give me a second, just a moment.” She stared at her father. “Mother left me. There’s no way you’re going to leave me now. I’ll help you, Adam.” Together, one of them on each side of him, they managed to get the door open and drag Thomas into the hallway. The flames were whooshing up high behind them, thick, incredibly hot, smoke gushing out of the room. No time, Adam thought, just no bloody time to put it out.

All of them were coughing now from the smoke. “Let’s move,” Adam said. He pulled the bedroom door closed after him, but it was too late. The fire was already eating away at the hallway carpeting.

“If he isn’t dead yet,” Adam said, “they’ll get him the instant he gets out of the house.”

Becca was panting with effort and coughing at the same time. “I had my gun strapped to my leg, but it didn’t matter,” she said, coughing. “Are you all right, Daddy? Don’t you dare talk about dying again. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you, Becca,” Thomas said, and his chest was on fire, just as the fire raged around them, it raged inside him. He knew he couldn’t last much longer. He didn’t want to leave her, not yet, please God, not yet.

“Just a little farther.”

They heard a whoosh of flames behind them. The smoke was dense and black now. “We’ve got to hurry,” Adam said. He didn’t ask, just picked up Thomas and eased him over his shoulder. “Becca, get downstairs. I’m right behind you.”

A shot rang out in the thick smoke. Adam felt the punch in his arm, sharp, hard. He didn’t loosen his hold. “Jesus, Becca, get down, crawl. I don’t want him to shoot you.”

But Becca had her Coonan in her hand. She stepped behind Adam and fired back through the smoke in the direction of the shot. There were three more shots. Then silence.

“He must be back near the bedroom, Adam.” And she fired off another shot. “That’ll keep him away. Get my father out of here. Oh God, the walls are on fire. It’s bad, Adam. Hurry! Save my father!”

Adam felt his arm pulsing with raw pain, weakening as he carried Thomas down the front stairs. He felt an instant of dizziness, then shook his head, coughed, and kept moving. He felt a strange pulling in his back, weird, but nothing really. Thomas was now unconscious. He prayed he wasn’t dead. He heard another shot, then another, but nothing all that close.