by Jeremy Cook
***
Aran saw Elle turn around, clearly in some sort of conversation or engagement with the man. He was still too far away to hear a word they were saying, but Elle had taken her hands down and was making animated gestures as she spoke. After a few moments, Elle stopped her awkward hand movements and held out her arm, a strange gesture to a man holding her at gunpoint.
It was time. Aran leaned down and steadied himself against a rock along the hillside. Using the hard surface to place the riffle, he looked through the sight and pulled the trigger. The sound of the shot echoed across the harbor, reverberating against the rocky hill. The man with the gun dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, buckling at the knees and falling face first.
Ellis pounced, running full speed from behind the second man and jumping on his back, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck. It was a struggle, but Ellis managed to pin him while Elle grabbed the gun from the fallen sailor and pointed it at the second man’s head. Aran breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that the situation was diffused and Elle was safe. He made his way back through the rough brush toward the harbor, his heart pounding in his chest and his hands still shaking from nerves.
