Chapter 1

(16 months earlier)

A scream sliced through the normal commotion at the Greater Arizona Aquarium. Virgil reacted to the shrill cry of terror and bolted into the underwater glass tunnel. Viewing the world's largest salt water fish tank from below, he looked up. A child had fallen into the Aquarium's biggest attraction. The shark tank.

At the end of the tunnel, heart pounding, adrenaline pumping, he took the steps two and three at a time. He reached the uppermost floor, the top of the tank, in seconds. The boy's frenzied attempt at swimming had pushed him into the center of the pool. Without skipping a beat or a second thought, the rescuer kicked off his shoes and dove in. Two powerful strokes put him near the kid.

"Stop splashing!" he ordered. "Calm down. I'll get you out, but you gotta stop splashing."

The wild-eyed child, encouraged by his hysterical mother, continued to flail. Saltwater poured into his mouth garbling the scream and feeding his panic. The splashing reverberated against the high ceiling amplifying into a thunderous roar.

A sixth sense kicked in and Virgil swirled around as a white-tipped shark came to investigate the fuss. A powerful punch on the nose sent the generally non-aggressive predator away. Before he could return his attention to the victim, however, he found himself submerged. The frantic child had launched himself on top of the rescuer. He plunged deeper into the water ducking away from the outstretched hands of the boy. With a hard kick, Virgil resurfaced and grabbed the kid from behind in a standard lifeguard hold. Reaching the side, he hurled the young boy out of the tank into the eager arms of waiting parents. As he grabbed the edge of the tank to hoist himself out, he heard screams of "watch it!" and "look out!" Twisting around, half out of the water, Virgil saw that persistent white-tip closing in. A kick on the nose once again sent it darting away.

Virgil hauled himself up and over the tank wall. Taking a deep breath as he sat on the edge he shook the water from his hands and tried to wipe his face dry with a soaked shirttail. The boy's mother came over him. She was crying and speaking in a language he didn't recognize.

A man accompanying the distraught parent spoke in broken English, "Please to thank you, sir. You save boy of ... of ... how you say?" He concentrated on finding the right words.

"Don't worry about it. It's my job. I do stuff like this for a living." Virgil was relieved to see his nephew running towards him. He stood and grabbed the 12 year old shoving him through the crowds away from the ensuing hero-worship. "I'm glad we were just about through in here anyway. You wanna get something to eat?"

Steven nodded. "Gee Uncle V. Can't you ever leave your work at the office?

Sitting in congested L.A. traffic on his way to the airport, Virgil's mind drifted back to the conversation with his boss regarding the interview that brought him to Southern California. He hated public speaking and pleaded with his boss not to send him. His brother Sonny, a fellow rescuer, loved being in front of cameras, not him.

"Hey, you're the one who saved that diplomat's brat from becoming shark bait," Walt goaded. "CNN specifically requested an interview with you."

Virgil thought his manager enjoyed his discomfort a bit too much. He tried coaxing him even more, "Rescue work's my job. That's what's expected of me. Anybody from our team would have done what I did."

"But you were the one who ended up swimming with the fishes."

Virgil's mind snapped back to the mid-morning traffic as a late model Camaro cut too close to the front of him, forcing him to swerve right. Then, with the same reckless abandon, he crossed back over to the left lane.

"Asshole," Virgil yelled inside the car. 'Now I know why there's so much road rage in L.A.'

Relaxing the grip on the steering wheel, Virgil coasted along in his lane before coming to a stop light. Glancing over several lanes he saw the same Chevy muscle car didn't make it any further ahead than he had. He smirked, 'Hmmm, didn't get very far, didya?'

When the light turned Virgil inched ahead. A smile crossed his face when he realized the black car got stuck behind a pickup making a left turn. He loved when stuff like that happened. But wary of hotheaded drivers like him, he kept one eye on the rear view mirror. When the traffic started flowing, Virgil concentrated on what was ahead, only glancing back occasionally.

The Camaro peeled out from behind the left turning vehicle, leaving tire marks on the pavement and cutting off a BMW, which blared its horn. Another car blocked the Chevy from running the red light at the next intersection.

Being well ahead, the grin remained on Virg's face since he had made it through the light. He turned onto the interstate ramp going towards the airport, leaving the motorist behind. He looked forward to returning to Arizona and the wide open spaces.

Preparing to change lanes, Virgil stole a glimpse in his side-view mirror and noticed the black Camaro burning up the left lane. Still far enough ahead, he politely turned his blinker on and slid over. However, instead of typically accelerating, he only inched by the car next to him. Within seconds the Chevy was riding his rear bumper.

'Any closer and you're gonna end up kissing my ass.'

He spoke out loud justifying his action. "You're going too fast for the crowded conditions on this road, buster. Slow down and get off the goddam phone!"

Taking pleasure in the fact he blocked the reckless car, Virgil's smile faded when the vehicle cut across three lanes and drove on the right shoulder.

Virgil struck the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. "He's going to kill someone." He reached for his own phone and called the police. Once he finished the report, he sped up to get a visual on the car and was pleased to see traffic too heavy for the Chevy to make headway. In fact, Virgil passed the car and got ahead of him again. He moved into the middle lane and kept tabs on him until the cops came.

Distracted at seeing the police on the other side of the road, the wheel was snatched out of Virgil's hand when his rented SUV lurched to the right. Superb reflexes from years of training got the vehicle under control as he watched the newly damaged Camaro drive off.

"Sonuvabitch!" He took off after the dangerous driver. As much as he wanted to catch up and smash this guy's face, Virgil knew he was exceeding the safety limits of his own driving. He only needed to get close enough to get the license plate number. He already had a decent look at the driver's face when he was tailgated.

Grimacing, he watched as the car tapped another vehicle, which pulled over expecting the Camaro to do the same. Virgil passed the irate driver who shook his fist in the air. Weaving in and out of traffic following the Chevy, Virgil gained ground when it got caught behind a tractor-trailer. Almost within license-plate range, a lane opened up, and the car disappeared. Virgil got trapped behind the same truck and pounded his steering-wheel in frustration. Although he didn't see what happened next, his view still blocked by the truck, he saw a large sedan swerve violently across two lanes to the right and slide to a halt, half on the shoulder and half in the dirt. He didn't need to guess what happened, but realized his pursuit was a losing battle. He left it to the police.