"We can't just stay here forever, Knox." The man lifted his head slightly and gazed across the lawn to where the body lay between the gravestones.

"Yeah? Well with a sniper rifle and a night scope, I'm not keen on joining Bradford out there."

"So what do we do? Where the hell are those other two guys?"

"They hopped the fence over there. They must be at the back of the motel."

"Doin' what? This is not what Doc described as a quick in and out." He lifted his head cautiously again and peered at the motel across the road. The sound of a shot had him crashing flat to the ground, eyes wide and throat drying.

Knox quickly jumped up and made a dash for a large pink marble marker several feet away, and curled up behind it. He peeked out and thought he saw movement on the road.

"Groom," he hissed. "The road. Someone's running."

A sudden yelp had them both peering out from their cover, just in time to see a figure splayed against the graveyard fence. The thudding of feet nearby had Knox rolling to his right, gun raised, as Corbett crashed to the ground beside him, panting frantically.

"Bugger got Deware."

"What was the first shot we heard?" Knox looked nervously at the body on the fence.

"He went all gung ho on me and went straight for the door. When it opened, a gun went off and he took one in the arm."

"From inside? The woman!"

"Musta been, Chase was coming around the back from the far side when it happened. I saw him and made a beeline here. Deware ran right out in the open . . ."

"Pssst!" The noise had both men looking back at Groom who was pointing frantically. They saw the figure for just an instant and then it was gone.

"Shit, he's in here with us. Spread out, we'll catch him in a crossfire." Knox gave Corbett a shove, and turned his attention back to the dark cemetery plots.

"Cover me," Corbett cursed, as he got to his haunches and made a dash for a large marker ahead of where they were. The shot was muffled, but the cry was not. Corbett spun about, legs tangling, as he smashed hard against the marker, the hole in his chest leaking away the last of his effort.

Groom had seen the brief flash and was firing wildly, scrambling for different cover as he did. Chase kept down, his back against a rough stone that took the impact of the wild shots. He lay on the ground and wriggled around the stone, using the scope to find his attackers. Another shot rang out and he heard it bite into the dirt a few yards away.

"Gotcha." He raised the rifle and centred the sight on the frightened face, then blew it away.

Knox was almost part of the lawn he had pressed himself so flat, his anxious hissing whispers to Groom unanswered. He focussed on stopping his erratic breathing, wet his lips and began inching forward so he could see around the marker. The shoe riveted his attention, and he raised his eyes slowly to stare at the hole in the end of the suppressor. A helpless gurgle spilled from his throat as it flashed suddenly.

Chase leaned on the gravestone, his muscles finally relaxing, then he took one final look around, apologizing to the name on the tombstone, and jogged back to the motel. They had to move, and fast. The shots would definitely have people dialing emergency numbers. He got to the door and called out Paula's name. When she answered, he stepped inside carefully. She was huddled on the floor, the gun a few feet away.

"Come on, we have to go." He hoisted her under the arms and sat her on the bed. "Grab all your stuff and let's get out of here."

"I- I shot a man . . ." She looked up at him, distress plastered all over her face.

"Not now, Paula. Move it." He stood her up and handed her some items to put in her bag. "Okay, you get the rest." He broke down the rifle and stored it with the other gun in his pack, checked around the room for anything else, then did a quick, professional wipe down of everything before leading her out the door.

******

For the first time, Doc began to reconsider the advisability of his vendetta against Chase. Eight men. Eight professionally trained men - lost - and he was no closer to a victory than he was two years ago. And how many had he lost then? Negotiating was out of the question now; he had pushed the envelope too far? But was it? He could offer removing any trace of Chase and his operations in exchange for a truce. Would that be enough?

He tossed his pen on the desk and squeezed his eyes shut. No bloody way. Chase wanted him dead.

******

The room was only a few notches above squalid, but for the first time Paula didn't comment. She didn't really notice, her mind was filled with the vision of the man in the doorway, and her pointing and firing, eyes closed. She was struggling with her perceived reality, the eminent laboratory supervisor guiding the research projects that a staff of technicians created for new and more effective health drugs.

It kept being overshadowed by her other reality, the deadly victim fugitive, and the man she couldn't shake from her thoughts.

"I know it looks crappy, but it's clean. The woman that runs this place is an old friend."

His sudden talking snapped her back to the present and she shrugged, looking around the room. "I'm just glad to be away from the motel."

He leaned against the wall looking out the window. "Paula, if it's any consolation, you only hit him in the arm."

"Only! I shot a man with a gun! Me!"

"It would have been the other way around if you hadn't." He gave a soft snort and studied her a moment. Why had he put himself in this predicament – twice? What was it about her that turned his ordered world upside down? Is this what love is? He made an annoyed sound and crossed the room to his pack, taking out his last phone.

She watched him, too tired to even be curious anymore. When she heard him say her uncle's name she sat up, more attentive, listening to him plan a meeting. No, this can only turn out badly. She made to interrupt when the call ended.

"What are you doing? You can't meet him, Chase. You said yourself he's determined to get you."

"It has to end, Paula, and it can only really end one way."

"No, please, don't do this. He won't be alone . . ." She stood, hands clasped in front.

"Too late. I would have preferred if he had kept his word, but that's old news now." He walked to her, taking her hands. "It has to be done. I told you I would protect you. Seems that was my first mistake from the start."

She moved closer, and they read each other's eyes. "Is that how you see it?"

His mouth twitched. "Actually no, I don't." A silent moment passed and then he pulled into his arms and kissed her with all the feelings he held, and had struggled with since they met. They broke apart, still clinging, and he smiled at her tears. "I have an idea that might be what love feels like."

"We can just go away somewhere again. You don't have to--"

"I do. You wouldn't want to be with me under those circumstances."

"I- I don't care any more . . . I think I love you, Dane Chase."

"Hold that thought." He kissed her again, then grabbed his pack and left.