Zoe had made the worst mistake of her life. Instead of waiting for a go-ahead, as she clearly should have, she'd gone on with the plan.

It wasn't until she'd gotten halfway to the aircraft that she realized something had gone terribly wrong. She craned her neck. Where had those two men come from?

She paused, blinking at the pilot's face, visible through the helicopter's front window. She swore she could see the surprise in his expression as he spotted her, see the moment he decided to leave the two men behind and blow the rig with all of them trapped here, if necessary. If that helicopter took off, they'd be dead. All of them.

That's when she ran.

Oh, not to safety like a smart person, but straight into oncoming danger.

Like an idiot.

At the door to the helicopter, she grabbed a handhold and pulled, sending a half-assed prayer to whatever gods might be listening. With luck, she could keep the pilot distracted while the rest of the team took out the two newest threats.

"Morning!" She went for cheerful, but her voice squeaked out, frantically high.

"Oh..."

She leaned forward, trying to keep his eyes on her. "Hey! Emily Marquette. Remember me?"

"You're not—?"

"Sorry. That's Doctor Marqu—"

Outside the chopper, someone opened fire.

"Fuck!" The pilot turned to the front, hands flying over the controls, and lifted them up abruptly, swooping into the air. Zoe fell to the side, hard, and gasped when something thumped.

Eyes wide, she turned. Hunkered beside her, finger to her lips, was Leo.

She'd never been happier to see someone in her life.

Her stomach dipped when the entire thing banked to one side. She just barely kept down the protein bar she'd scarfed before leaving the island. Shit, he was tilting the helicopter. Trying to get them out. She slid and just managed to grab hold of a dangling strap before plummeting to her death.

And all the while, they got farther from the rig.

No, please. No. If they got too far away, he could blow the place up—with Eric and the others in it.

Fear choked her, made breathing hard. But if she gave in to it, they'd die. All of them.

Slowly, things came into focus. The doors, wide open, air whipping inside. Leo sliding toward the opening. She wasn't anchored to anything. They tilted, and she was out. Zoe's mouth opened on a silent scream, and then...

No. No, Leo'd caught onto the edge of the front seat.

Her big, dark eyes flicked around, looking for something else to hold on to. Without a moment's hesitation, Zoe reached out her free hand.

Too far. Leo was getting sucked out.

"Help us!" She screamed it as loud as she could, put every little bit of angst and anger and fear she had into that sound. Maybe, through the screaming blast, the pilot would hear her. Maybe he'd listen.

It might as well have been a whisper at the bottom of the ocean.

It was one of those moments—and she'd had a few in the past twenty-four hours—when the choices just stared at her. And the choices were easy: risk falling out of a freaking helicopter to save her new friend, or do nothing.

And watch her die.

In the front seat, the pilot yelled. Zoe reached as far as she could... Leo's fingers grazed hers... She stretched, and Leo slid another inch away.

Zoe let go of the seat belt, shifted, jammed her foot into the space between two seats, and reached.

Their hands clasped. Leo's was warm and solid. Zoe pulled with all her might, straining her legs to stay in place, and slowly, the other woman's body slid up and onto the aircraft's floor.

Zoe caught her breath, spotted another strap hanging low enough to grab on to, and reached for it.

That was when the pilot put the gun to her head.

The barrel was frigid against her temple. She didn't move a muscle.

"Push her out." Each word hit her like a bullet. "And then jump."

Zoe didn't dare shake her head, but her lips formed the word. "No."

The pilot said something unintelligible, and the world bucked.

Before Zoe could track what was happening, someone put a hand on her leg. She didn't dare turn. Didn't dare hope.

She kept her eyes on Leo, who nodded, slow and sure, while the big hand on her calf counted down: "Three, two..."

"Down!" Eric's voice.

She ducked, and a gunshot rang out, deafening this close to her ear. Leo was up, diving for the front. Was that Eric's voice?

Zoe turned, clearly hallucinating.

It was him. Eric.

He yanked the pilot up and over into the back, while Leo took the seat.

The Pacific swooped up at them, and Zoe's stomach hit her throat. She heaved.

No. She was stronger than this. Shaking her head, she worked hard to focus. Leo, clipped into her harness, put her hands on the controls. Within seconds, they were floating again, rather than falling. Water turned to sky.

Movement beside her—Eric yelled a question at the injured pilot, who shook his head. More yelling that she couldn't quite grasp, or maybe she was beyond it now. She blinked dumbly as Eric clipped the other man across the temple with ruthless efficiency and let him drop to the floor, unconscious. Within seconds, the doors were closed, the roar of engines and rotary blades tamped down to bearable levels, and they changed direction back toward the rig.

A warm, solid hand grasped hers. Zoe could only watch as Eric spoke into his comm device, then listened, his eyes glued to hers.

After a last nod and a few unintelligible words, he turned, not quite smiling, but close. "We did it, Zoe." He bent forward, put his forehead to hers, and spoke against her lips. "You did it. You."

***

AN: Not sure I could pull through here the way Zoe does, but I LOVE writing people who face massive challenges--and who come out on top. As for Leo... You won't see much of her in this story, but she's got her own book, UNCHARTED, which is releasing in 2021. She's such a badass, you guys. I adore her.

Hope y'all are enjoying this story! Thank you for the votes and notes!!! ❤️❤️ xo Adriana