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you, Ma.”

She smiled faintly.

“On the count of three,” Pete said. “One, two, three.”

The men carefully placed her onto the board.

“We can take it from here. Do you want to ride in the truck with her?” Pete asked him.

“I’ll follow so I can have a car.”

“Okay. We’re going to take her to St. Michael’s. Stay behind us and we’ll run the sirens.”

“Thank you.” The son grabbed his coat and his keys and followed them outside.

Pete and Bishop loaded up the woman in the back before Pete jumped into the driver’s seat once again. “Theo, keep a close eye. We’ll be there in 7 minutes.” He fired up the truck and switched on the sirens.

Bishop monitored the woman’s vital signs. “It’s okay, ma’am. Your son is right behind us and he’ll see you at the hospital. Has this happened to you before?”

She shook her head.

“Okay. The doctors at St. Michael’s are excellent and will take great care of you.” He reached inside his medical bag.

“How she doing back there, Bishop?” Pete asked, still driving full-bore.

“Stable for the moment.” He held a needle and pushed the plunger to clear out any air trapped inside. “I’m going to put this into your IV, okay?” Bishop glanced to Pete before injecting the needle into the woman’s IV line. He held her gaze with a tender smile.

Her eyes widened and she gasped for breath while wearing an oxygen mask.

Bishop’s brow creased for a moment before he peered at her vital signs and noticed the spike in her heart rate. “How much longer, Pete? She’s in distress.”

“Shit. Three minutes. Don’t let her go, man.” Pete pressed harder on the gas pedal and a noticeable lurch in the truck propelled them.

The woman tried to claw at her chest and her eyes remained fixed on Bishop. She tried to speak under the oxygen mask, but only muffled words emerged.

“We’re almost there, ma’am.” Bishop’s tone was remarkably cool. He reached for the defibrillator behind him and readied it for use. “You’ll be fine.” He looked back to Pete. “Gotta use the paddles. We’re losing her.” This time, his tone was imbued with urgency.

“Shit. Hang on, ma’am. We’re almost there.” Pete gripped onto the steering wheel and weaved in and out of traffic as best he could in the bulky truck. “Come on. Come on. Get out the way!” he shouted.

“She’s going into cardiac arrest.” Bishop stared at her while she expressed panic and fear. He turned on the machine and opened her blouse, placing the pads on her chest. “Clear.”

Her chest heaved as if someone reached a hand into it and yanked on her heart. Bishop peered at the monitor. The brief shock appeared to stabilize her. He continued to observe the monitor when her pulse grew erratic once again. “I’m going again.”

Pete glanced back. “Come on, man. Don’t let her go. Don’t let her go, Theo.” He returned his eyes to the road. “We’re almost there.”

Bishop readied the paddles again. “Clear.”

The woman, who continued to gasp, looked at him with confusion and worry. Her head shook wildly. “Help me.” Her words were barely audible beneath the mask.

“It’s not working.” Bishop looked at the machine. The light was on, but nothing happened.

Pete roared into the emergency entrance of the hospital where nurses and doctors were standing at the ready. The call of their arrival was made as soon as Pete started the truck. He cut the engine and crawled into the back. His eyes darted between Bishop and the woman. Then he gazed at the monitor. “What the hell?”

“I’m sorry,” Bishop dropped his head. “I tried. She wasn’t responding. She’s gone, man. She’s gone.”

“Fuck!” Pete slammed the cabinet mounted on the side.

The back doors swung open to reveal two nurses and a doctor standing outside.

“She didn’t make it.” Bishop looked at them. “I did what I could.”

Senior Supervisory Agent Nick Scarborough had everything he’d ever wanted. The transfer to Quantico. The promotion to Senior Unit Agent. Kate. Yet he’d let it slip through his fingers. His grasp on Kate was tenuous as well. How much longer he could hang onto her was up to her. Nick had risked it all and for what? Something he thought he had a handle on. After all, he’d struggled with alcohol before and came out on top. But it seemed this might have been one time too many. One risk too great.

Unit Chief Cole had ordered Nick to talk to the Bureau’s psychiatrist. His AA meetings, which he had been attending, were still a requirement. Now, Nick sat on the modular cream-colored sofa in the shrink’s office while the doctor jotted down notes from her chair across from him. He rested his right leg over his left with his hand on his ankle and twitched his foot.

“I know you think this is a waste of your time, Agent Scarborough, but trust me when I say that it isn’t,” the doctor said. “You and I have been at this for a couple of months now and frankly, I still believe you’re holding back.”

He scoffed. “I’m not holding anything back. Look, I’m here because Cole ordered me to be. I don’t know what you want from me. I’m going to my AA meetings. I haven’t had a drink since Rio.”

“That’s all well and good, Nick, but you also haven’t come to terms with the idea that you, the head of your team, put your own people in potential danger as a result of your actions.”

“So that’s what this is about?” He peered at her. Her brown eyes judged him and her downturned lips with the lines of a smoker pursed. “You think I don’t feel remorse over what I’ve done?” Nick looked away. “You have no idea how I feel, Doc.”

“You’re right. That’s why it’s time you tell me because you’re not getting out of here until you do. We can keep meeting twice a week for the next year for all I care. Somehow, I don’t think that’s what you want. So why

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