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The flashlight went dead. Daphne grabbed for it, shook it, and it came back on.

Sharon hopped up and down again. Frightened. She pointed alarmingly toward the door. She placed her hands against the cement. Daphne felt the cement.

It was vibrating. The dogs, still quiet, starting pacing in their cages.

A car! Her thoughts raced ahead: He would see the damaged lock, but it would appear no one had made it inside. She looked up at the furnace's exhaust stack-the ceiling was black tar paper, the hole there impossible to distinguish.

How much time did she have? Seconds? She took a deep breath, steeled herself for the pain, and went for the gun, shoving her hand into the dog pen.

The dog came after her arm! Her fingers brushed the weapon's handstock.

The jaws opened. White teeth. A dark throat. She grabbed hold of the gun-she had it! The dog took a piece of her arm. The gun snagged on the wire and bounced back inside. Lost.

The vibration stopped. He was here! The dogs circled their cages. She had to hide! She crossed over to the food pen. The guard dog would have to be released in order to return things as they were before.

The flashlight! She retrieved the flashlight, placed the shovel back, and ran to the far cage where Felix was still feeding. From outside came the high-pitched whine of a car engine revving.

She swung open the cage door and ducked in behind it as the dog spun and charged out.

Sharon shook her cage savagely and briefly diverted the dog's attention away from Daphne, who came around the door and pulled it shut, closing herself inside.

She switched off the flashlight and hid herself between the columns of stacked dog food bags.

There was a tremendous crash. Edlen Tegg's Trooper broke through the far end of the kennel, blowing a six-foot hole in the wall. He left the headlights on as he climbed out, carrying an oversized pistol that it took Daphne a moment to recognize as a dart gun.

The dogs went absolutely silent. Daphne's ears were ringing as Tegg said calmly to Sharon Shaffer, "I'm back!"

He glanced quickly and nervously around the structure, waving the dart gun before him. "I see we had a visitor while I was gone. Hmm?" He spun around and faced the Trooper and the headlights, worried that his adversary might attack him from the gaping hole the car had caused. "Off for reinforcements or waiting for me?

Hmm?" He remained extremely distracted, jerking his head back and forth between Sharon and the Trooper. "Cat got your tongue?" he asked Sharon, inching toward her cage. "Come on, come on, come on," he encouraged, waving her forward in the cage, clearly intending her for his hostage-for cover. "Hurry!"

He was forced to switch the dart gun to his right hand while he fished for the key, and this made him extremely nervous. He waved the oversized pistol around, attempting to cover both sides of the car. Paranoid.

He managed to get the key in the lock. "Stay"' he directed Felix as the dog edged toward freedom. "Heel!" he commanded, The dog obeyed, though cautiously. Tegg removed the lock, grabbed the collar's remote wand, and shocked Sharon immediately.

Daphne lost sight of Sharon briefly as she fell back to the cement. "Disconnect the I.V.," Tegg directed, "needle and all."

She obeyed. He shocked her again, apparently to weaken her; and she looked weakened, although Daphne had seen her take much more than this by grabbing hold of the fence. A ruse?

He shocked her yet again. "You'll do exactly as I say," he commanded. She nodded eagerly. "Good. We're going to get in the car, you in front of me. You'll be weak on your feet, but you must not fall. Hmm? I'll punish you," he said, tripping the warning button. She nodded.

He opened the cage. Sharon moved tentatively forward. "We're going away," he said. "It's better this way, anyway," he added.

Daphne glanced across at her gun: a second or two to get out of this cage, another one or two to cross the aisle. Yet another to go for the gun. Five seconds at the least, possibly longeran eternity for that guard dog.

A lifetime, she thought. Without that dog in the equation, she could take on Tegg by herself. Hand-to-hand if necessary. But the dog swung the equation heavily in his favor. Even so, if they made it to the car, Sharon was gone. Everything lost.

Sharon came out of the cage. Daphne could feel her pain as she forced herself to stand. She took one tentative step forward. Tegg, carrying the remote in one hand, the dart pistol in the other, followed her slowly. "Doing fine," he said.

Daphne went for it. She leapt forward, wormed her fingers through the chain link and opened the latch. She swung the door open and dove across the center aisle, shoving her arm beneath the chain link and straight into the opposing pen. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tegg's reaction. Her hand groped for the gun. The pit bull attacked, but this time she got the safety off and fired. The dog squealed and retreated.

Daphne freed the gun and turned in time to aim at the guard dog, who skidded to a stop as Tegg hollered, "Sit!" He had Sharon by the neck, using her as a screen, the dart gun aimed around her.

He was at a disadvantage here: He had but one shot, and it wouldn't kill her immediately. His only trump was Sharon.

That dog was aching to charge. Tegg dragged Sharon toward an adjacent cage. Two dogs? Daphne thought. "Don't do it!" she advised, her attention split between the guard dog, only a few feet from her, and its master.

His hand groped for the latch-he too, knew that two dogs were nearly impossible to stop. "Don't!" she warned, switching her aim from Tegg to the dog in front of her. "Would you actually shoot a dog?" he asked.

She shot Felix dead. Once to drop him. Once more to finish him off.

Tegg cried loudly in protest, "You killed him!" He stared down at the dog in disbelief and repeated it. "Take your hand off that cage," she instructed.

He obeyed. Good, they were getting somewhere. She added up her previous shots-five outside, one in the pen, two for the guard dog: eight-only to realize she had but one bullet left. But Tegg didn't know that.

She raised the gun and aimed it directly at Tegg. Sharon wrestled to get free. "No!" Tegg ordered. Two years ago, Daphne had been in the clutches of a madman, Boldt with the gun.

Now the roles were reversed. She faced up to the reality of killing Tegg. She glanced down at the poor dog. God! It was still alive! Its paw twitched. "What's the use?" she asked Tegg. She had to get him talking now. She resorted to negotiation, the only solution she knew to such a standoff. "What if my partner's outside?"

The headlights almost blinded her. Could she get off a clean shot? "Then he's a little bit slow," Tegg said. "Slow?" she asked. "How long for whatever's in that toy to take effect?" she asked, indicating the dart pistol. "This is no toy," she said, placing her other hand onto the Beretta, prepared to risk a kill shot to the head. It was a tricky shot, easy to miss even in the best light, the most controlled environment. But no matter what, he wasn't going to put Sharon into that car with him. "The dog is still alive," she said, "you can help him. "You've struck a lung. He will suffocate on his own blood. Finish him."

"You can still save him, Doctor. Let Sharon go," she advised. It was a good distance for a head shot the light was bad, but the distance good.

She couldn't hold the gun up like this much longer. It grew heavy quickly. But with it lowered to her side, she'd have no chance of hitting him cleanly. She kept it elevated. "Tell me about Thomas Kent," she said, using the name of the man he had killed on the operating table in medical school Stunned, he loosened his hold on Sharon. Daphne took another step forward. Another few feet and she could risk the head shot. "You're a wicked little woman, aren't you?" he said, raising his own weapon. "It was you with Pamela, wasn't it? Of course it was. You killed her, you know? Without you, she would still be alive."