Taken by Surprise by Tonya Ramagos Page A

spent a vacation now and then with the men of Ziegler's SEAL team. Some of the things he learned from the group of fiercely trained warriors proved invaluable and went far beyond the tests he had endured at the academy.
    Michael moved in stealth mode, keeping his breathing shallow and mind focused. He tried to anticipate the direction Rhonda would go. He remembered her plan to circle back to the teams out front. Would she know how to do that, which way to take alone? Could she see well enough in the first faintest glow of predawn light coupled with the remains of the full moon to make her way? He wouldn't know it if she did, he realized, as the silence thickened the deeper he got into the forest. He didn't hear anything through his earpiece. No reports came through on the activity of the rest of the teams. No shouts to abort or victory yells. Nothing but dead air.
    A limb cracked behind him, a soft snap followed by a rustle of leaves. He turned, finding only gray silvered by that damnable full moon. As much as he wanted her to be able to see her way, he realized she would play hell hiding with risking light overhead, even in this thick forest. She would need to find a canopy to conceal her, a trench or maybe a cave.
    The blast of a gunshot turned his blood to ice in his veins. Pulse hammering, adrenaline surging, he moved forward in the direction the sound seemed to come from. It took everything he possessed to push down the panic, to get a handle on the fear. What kind of weapon had the tango been carrying? Michael hadn't even noticed. His focus had been on the bastard himself, on the fact that the tango was clearly after Rhonda.
    Michael adjusted his grip on the handle of his SIG and silently moved on. Relying on instinct, trusting his gut, he detoured from the direct path he'd been following through the trees. The new course brought him around the area where he believed to have heard the shot and, hallelujah , right behind Rhonda.
    Relief mixed with a heady rush of control that allowed him to keep his head. She was okay, at least on the outside. She must have been since she sat ramrod straight on a tree root, shoulders rising and falling with each erratic breath, the gun she had taken from the fallen tango trained on the bald head of the man sprawled on the ground at her feet.
    Michael inched closer. She was scared, more likely terrified, and not afraid to shoot. She made that much obvious by the fact that the gunshot he'd heard came from the weapon she held. He saw the darkening of the tango's white shirt as the shot to his abdomen spilled with blood. Possibly a kill shot, but one that might be treated if he got help quickly enough.
    Michael didn't have any intention of letting that happen.
    He needed to get her attention, but how to do so without spooking her? The last thing he needed would be for her to turn around, gun blazing, and shoot him. He took another step and then a second, stopping now within arm's reach of her back. If she spun on him, fired that gun, he'd be toast. He prayed she wouldn't do that.
    "Rhonda." He said her name softly, though it seemed to bellow in the quiet of the forest.
    She turned her head, keeping her body straight, and the gun, thank you , aimed at the tango. Her eyes were huge in her face when her gaze lifted and locked with his.
    "It's about time you showed up." The slight quiver of her voice came in direct contrast to the steady way she held the gun.
    She had to be horrified. Yet the square set to her shoulders and the hard expression on her face showed a bravery Michael had witnessed only a few times in his life.
    He shook his head, but didn't look away from her. He knew he'd never met a more amazing woman. He swallowed.
    "Sorry about that. I got caught up back there. A few tangos, couple of bullets, you know." His voice sounded thick even to his own ears. He tried to go for flip, conversational, but didn't know if he succeeded. The flicker of a smile on the corner of her lips told him