Susan Cochrane<br/>On the deck<br/><strong>Trying not to get shot, and fighting brain-lock</strong><br/><br/>Susan didn't move a muscle, except for her eyes.  She stayed in place, kneeling on the deck with hands behind her head,  But her eyes were glued on Emily.  Not a wise thing to do, she really should have been looking at the intruder, ready to make a hopeless dodge if need be...<br/><br/>But a silenced pistol?  What?  a silencer?  And Emily knew how to use it, the way she handled the weapon, there was no doubt she was trained.  No no.   Emily was not the shooter, no, she couldn't be. But thre was nobody else aboard, if the shooter had been blown off the boat, where was the blood?  .50 cal's made a mess of what they hit, always.  So Emily was the shooter.  But that blow to the head, a .50 would have turned her brain to jelly, even a glancing hit.<br/><br/>Susan tore herself out of her mental loop.  "I'm not moving until this-"<em> Insanely hot.</em>""-woman says I can."<em> Good God, the way she came around like that, even if I'd been ready for her... </em><br/><br/>