作者：贾丝廷•戴维斯
出版社：外语教学与研究出版社
格式: AZW3, DOCX, EPUB, MOBI, PDF, TXT
午夜特别行动试读：
Chapter One
"Cutter!"
Hayley Cole shouted once more, then decided to save her breath for running. It wasn't that the dog was ignoring her. Sometimes he just got so intent on something, the rest of the world ceased to exist.
Serves you right, she told herself, for spoiling him. Treating him like a human just because half the time he acts like one.
That he'd shown up on her doorstep when she most needed him, that she now couldn't imagine life without the uncannily clever Cutter didn't help at the moment, as she was traipsing after him through midnight-dark trees. If she hadn't known these woods from childhood she might be nervous, but it was the wrong time of year for bears, and she wasn't afraid of much else. But a sassy dog could get into trouble; just last night she'd heard coyotes. And a cornered raccoon could be nasty. While she had faith in the clever dog's ability to come out on top, she didn't want him hurt in the process.
At least out here, if you heard a sound in the night, your worry wasn't who, but what. Well, maybe except for that blessed helicopter that had buzzed the house a while ago, setting Cutter into the frenzy that started this whole chase. They weren't uncommon in the Pacific Northwest, what with the navy and coast guard coming and going. Normally they didn't ruffle the dog, but this smaller one had been frighteningly low and had set him off like a rocket.
She dodged around the big cedar tree on the north side of the trail that could barely be found in full daylight. She should have grabbed her heavy, hooded parka with the flashlight in the pocket, but while fall was in the air it was still merely cool at night, not cold. Besides, she hadn't realized this was going to be a lengthy expedition.
She was on her neighbor's property now, and she doubted the reclusive older man would welcome either her or her four-legged mischief maker, so she forged onward.
"Like some stupid character in a bad horror movie," she muttered under her breath, rethinking sharing the last of the beef stew she'd made with the carrot-loving dog.
She rounded a large maple and nearly tripped over Cutter, who had stopped dead.
"Whoa," she said, recovering. "What—?"
The dog's tail gave an acknowledging wag, but his attention never wavered. He was staring through the trees at something. A little wary—it was too early for bears, wasn't it?—she moved up beside the dog to look. For a moment it didn't register, it seemed so unlikely.
In the darkness it was almost indistinguishable, in fact would be invisible if not for the faint light from the house. That light slipped over polished, gleaming black, so that the shape she saw was a series of faint reflections, curved and straight, rather than the object itself.
But she still knew what it was, instantly.
The helicopter that had rattled her windows fifteen minutes ago was sitting in her reclusive neighbor's yard.
Something about the thing sitting there, glimmering faintly in the dark, unsettled her. The fact that it had no apparent markings unsettled her even more. Weren't they like planes? Didn't they have to have numbers on them?
Maybe it's a prototype, her logical mind said. Hasn't been registered yet. Lots of aircraft industry up here in the Pacific Northwest. Maybe her neighbor was a designer or something. She had no idea what he really did, nor did any of the others in this semirural, forested little community. Being mostly kind, they didn't call him antisocial, at least not yet. The speculation ranged from eccentric hoarder to grief-stricken widower, depending on the mind-set of the speculator. Hayley, who herself valued her privacy and the quiet of this wooded setting, preferred to simply leave him alone if that's what he chose.
Being right next door, she'd seen him more often than anyone, which meant exactly twice. And both times he'd retreated immediately inside, as if he feared she might actually approach him.
But now she was wondering if a little more curiosity might have been wise. Scenarios from mad scientist to terrorists foreign and domestic raced through her mind. Her mother would have laughed at the very idea of such things in quiet little Redwood Cove, but her mother had been unaware of many dark things in the world in the last years of her life. Not by choice, but because she was focused on the battle to extend that life as long as possible, a battle Hayley had fought beside her for three years, until it was lost eight months ago.
She heard a sliding door opening, and in the next instant a bright light on the side of the house came on. Instinctively she jerked back, even though the apparently motion-sensing floodlight didn't reach this far. Cutter, on the other hand, took a half step forward as two men stepped out onto the deck. His nose lifted, twitching rapidly as he drew in the scents the faint breeze wafted his way.
The light threw the helicopter back into the realm of, if not ordinary, at least no longer sinister—at least it did until she realized she could now see that indeed, there wasn't a single marking to identify the craft.
The light also made the silver in her neighbor's neatly trimmed beard gleam. The second man, much younger, with a buzz cut and a leather jacket, was a total stranger. He seemed to be helping the older man as they went down the steps, gripping his arm in support.
Her breath caught as, coming down the steps into the yard where the helicopter waited, the leather jacket parted and she saw a holstered handgun on his hip.
She grabbed Cutter's collar; all her silly notions about men in black and their black helicopters suddenly didn't seem so silly anymore. Were they the good guys, if any still existed, and was her neighbor being arrested? Was the reason for his reclusiveness something worse than she'd ever imagined?
She shivered, wishing more than ever for her parka. And then another thought followed rapidly: What if he was the good guy? What if these men in the black helicopter were the bad guys, and her neighbor was being snatched by them? That it could be some twisted combination of both also occurred to her; these days it was harder than ever to tell bad guys from good.
The two men got into the helicopter, the younger one again helping the older, with every evidence of solicitousness. Moments later, the helicopter came alive, engine humming, running lights blinking on.
Her mind was racing. Two men, one of them armed, get on the helicopter, and it starts up. So obviously, unless her neighbor was the pilot, which seemed unlikely, the other man was. Which had to mean her neighbor was going willingly, didn't it? Otherwise, wouldn't he run while the other man was occupied with... well, whatever you did to fire up a helicopter? Unless he couldn't. Perhaps he wasn't well enough? Or was simply too frightened to try to escape?
Or... could there have been a third man, waiting aboard the craft all this time?
Cutter made an odd, uncharacteristic, whining sort of sound just as a movement on the deck caught her eye. And she realized there was at least a third man, because he was coming out of the house now. Tall, lean, with hair as dark as the sky.
He had a large duffel bag slung over his left shoulder. He started down the deck steps, and two things happened simultaneously. The sound of the engine got louder. And Cutter let out a sudden, sharp bark.
Before she could react, the dog had twisted free of her loose grip on his collar. And to her dismay he bolted, straight toward the third man. Tail up, head down, he raced out of the trees and across the open yard. Cutter was never vicious, but the man he was charging didn't know that, and she took off after him.
So much for a silent retreat, she thought as the man, obviously having heard the dog's bark, dropped the duffel bag to the ground.
"Cutter!"
The dog ignored her, intent on his target. But he was running happily, joyously, as he did when he greeted her if she'd been away and left him home. Some part of her mind wondered if perhaps he knew the man. She'd never seen him before; now that he'd turned in their direction she knew she wasn't likely to forget a guy who looked like this one.
She had a split second to wonder if the mystery of Cutter's appearance in her life, at the time when she'd needed the distraction most, was about to be solved.
The man turned to face the dog's onslaught.
And pulled a gun. Aimed it at Cutter.
"No!"
Panic lifted her shout to a scream. He didn't shoot. It should have been reassuring. Except that he instantly turned his attention—and his weapon—on her. She kept going. He hadn't shot Cutter, and he had to be a lot more threatening than she was.
Then again, maybe not, she thought, her pace slowing as the dog reached his goal. And while she'd never expected him to launch into an attack, she certainly hadn't expected what he did next; the dog sat politely at the man's feet, then looked over a furry shoulder at her with an expression of utter delight. His tongue lolled happily, his ears were up and alert and he looked just as he did when he found the exact toy he'd been searching for.
He looked, for all the world, as if he were saying, "Look, I found him!"
The man lowered the lethal-looking black handgun but did not, she noticed, put it away.
She grabbed Cutter's collar, firmly this time.
"I'm sorry. He got away from me, but he's harmless, really. He doesn't usually... I mean, he's usually a bit slow to warm up to strangers. He doesn't generally charge up to them..."
She was babbling, she realized, and made herself stop.
"I'm sorry," she repeated. "We didn't mean to trespass." She glanced at the waiting helicopter, gave an embarrassed smile, hoping her neighbor could read her expression since he doubtless couldn't hear her inside and over the noise of the engine.
"Damn."
Her gaze shot back to the man who had just muttered the curse. The light was behind him, silhouetting his rangy frame, making him seem even taller, looming over her. Her gut told her the quicker she got them out of here, the better. She tugged on Cutter's collar, but the dog was reluctant and reacted with uncharacteristic resistance.
Everything the darn dog had done since that helicopter had buzzed the house had been uncharacteristic, she thought, tugging again.
The door of the helicopter opened. The first armed man she'd seen leaned out.
"Time, Quinn," he shouted over the noise of the engine and the growing wind of the main rotor.
"I know."
Hayley heard the exchange and registered that the man her suddenly recalcitrant dog seemed so attracted to was apparently named Quinn, but she was mainly focused on getting them both out of here. Normally she was able, barely, to lift Cutter if she had to. But dragging him when he was actively resisting was something else.
She turned, intending to walk away, hoping the dog would just follow; normally he always did, not liking her too far away from him. Not that he was behaving normally just now, but—
She gasped as the man called Quinn suddenly appeared in front of her, blocking her path. She hadn't even heard him move. And in that instant the entire scenario went from ominous and unsettling to threatening. Because clearly this man was not going to let her just walk away.
"I'm sorry," the man said.
Then he grabbed her, so swiftly she had no time to react. He ran his hands over her, so obviously searching that any thought that it was some personal assault never really formed.
She elbowed him. "What do you think you're doing?"
It was a rhetorical question, and it got the answer it probably deserved: nothing. She tried to pull away again but he held her in place with ease, warning her without a word that he was much stronger than she.
And then he lifted her off the ground. She fought, clawing, kicking, landing at least one solid blow. She barely had time to scream before she was physically tossed aboard the helicopter. She twisted, trying to get out before the man called Quinn got aboard. Cutter, she noticed through her panic, did nothing but whine in obvious concern. Somehow she'd always assumed the dog would defend her, would attack, bite—
She was pushed down into a seat. She scrambled to get to her feet, but Quinn leaned over and grabbed Cutter, tossing the fifty-pound dog into her lap as if he weighed no more than the duffel bag that followed. And then he was aboard himself, and the door slammed shut behind him with grim finality.
She sat in the seat he'd shoved her into, her heart hammering, her hands shaking as she clung to Cutter, fighting to wrap her mind around one simple fact.
They were being kidnapped.
第一章
“卡特！”海利·科尔又大喊了一声，然后决定省省力气不再喊了去追卡特。那只狗并不是故意不理睬她，有时候它只是太专注于某件事情而忘记了这世界上还有其他东西存在．
活该，她对自己说，都怪你这么惯着它。就因为它经常表现得像人一样，你还真的把它当人了。
卡特在海利最需要的时候出现在她的门阶上；半夜时分，海利跟随卡特游荡在阴森森的树林里，她无法想象，此时如果没有异常聪明的卡特的协助，事情会是什么样。要不是她从小就熟悉这片林子，她可能会害怕，但现在不是熊出没的季节，而除了熊，她没什么可畏惧的了。但这只活泼好动的狗却有可能遇到麻烦，因为就在昨晚她还听到了土狼的叫声，而且，一只走投无路的浣熊也可能会带来麻烦。尽管海利相信卡特绝对比它们厉害，但也不希望它有什么闪失。
至少在这里，如果夜里你听到什么声音，你担心的不是那是谁，而是那是什么。好吧，除了刚才不知从哪儿来了一架讨厌的直升机从海利家上空掠过惹怒了卡特，它便开始追赶直升机。不过这种直升机在太平洋西北部很常见，因为海军和海上警卫巡逻来来往往都坐直升机。通常情况下，它们不会惹到卡特，但这架小型直升机飞行高度低得吓人，卡特便飞快地冲了出去。
海利躲在小路北边一棵大雪松旁，即使在大白天这里也不容易被发现。她出门时本该拿上她厚重的连帽外套，那件衣服口袋里还装着手电筒。尽管空气中弥漫着秋意，好在夜里也只是比较凉爽，并不冷。而且她没有意识到这将是一个漫长的征程。
海利现在到了邻居家的地盘上，但她觉得这个深居简出的老人不会欢迎她和她那顽皮的四条腿朋友，所以她继续往前走。“就像一些糟糕的恐怖电影中的愚蠢角色一样。”她低声说着，回想着和她那爱吃胡萝卜的小狗一起分享她做的最后一点红烩牛肉的情景。
她绕过一棵大枫树，这时卡特突然停下来，差点把她绊倒。“哎呦，”她站稳身体，问道：“怎么——？”
卡特摇了摇尾巴，表示确实有什么东西，但是它的注意力并未分散。它的目光穿过林子，注视着什么。海利十分谨慎——现在还不是熊出没的时候，不是吗？——她小心地挪到卡特身边想看个究竟。可是看了一会儿，她什么都没有看见，似乎不太可能是熊。
四周漆黑一片，那东西不易被察觉。若不是屋里透出来些微弱的光线，那东西几乎是隐形的。灯光落在它那光滑发亮的黑色外壳上，海利看到一些模糊的影像，或曲或直，但无法分辨是什么。
不过海利马上就意识到那是什么了。
那架直升机15分钟前还从她家窗前嗡嗡掠过，现在却停在她那深居简出的邻居的院子里。
不知怎的，那架直升机在黑暗中闪着微光，这使她感到不安。更让她感到不安的是这飞机上没有明显的标志。难道它们不应该像飞机那样必须有编号吗？
她的逻辑告诉她，这也许是一架样机，尚未注册。西北太平洋地区有很多家飞机制造商都在此建厂。也许她的邻居是一个设计师什么的。她不知道他到底是做什么的，而且在这个城乡结合、遍地树木的小型社区居住的其他人也都不知道他是干什么的。不过大家出于善意，没有说过海利的邻居不合群，至少目前为止没有。不同的人有不同的想法，因此从古怪的收藏家到悲痛欲绝的鳏夫，说法不一。海利很看重个人隐私和这种林中安静的家居环境，如果这是她邻居的选择，海利会选择不去打扰他。
由于就住在隔壁，海利看到他的次数比别人要多，说是这样说，可准确地讲也就两次。就连看到的那两次他都立刻退到屋子里面，好像担心海利会接近他。
但现在她觉得当初是不是多一点好奇心才是明智的。她脑子里开始闪现出国内外那些有关疯狂的科学家和恐怖分子们的剧情。住在安静的红木湾地区的母亲恐怕要嘲笑她这想法了。但在生命的最后几年中，海利的母亲已经意识不到这世界上的诸多黑暗与邪恶了。这并非出于选择，而是因为海利的母亲一直在与病魔全力斗争，以尽可能地延长生命。三年来海利一直陪在母亲身旁，直到八个月前母亲病逝。
她听到滑动门打开了，紧接着一道亮光从房子一侧射出来。虽然体感探照灯照不到那么远，她还是本能地退后一些。而另一边，当两名男子走上露天平台时，卡特却向前走了一小步。它的鼻子微微上扬，快速地抽动，寻着微风中的气味走去。
这光把直升机照得清楚了一些，就算没有达到正常的亮度，起码看起来已经不那么可怕了。至少，海利觉得她这次的确看清了，这架飞机上并没有哪怕一处可以识别的标记。
灯光下，她邻居那修剪得整齐的胡须闪着银光。还有一个男人，要年轻许多，理了个圆寸，穿了件皮夹克，海利以前从未见过他。他似乎在帮助海利的邻居，因为他们下台阶的时候，他紧紧地抓着那个年长的人的胳膊。
他们两个走到院子里来，直升机正在那里等着，穿皮夹克的男人走到一旁。海利看到在他的臀部别着一个带皮套的手枪，于是她屏住了呼吸。
她抓住了卡特的项圈；所有关于那两个黑衣男人和黑色直升机的愚蠢想法突然都不那么愚蠢了。如果这世上还有好人，那他们是好人吗？她的邻居是被逮捕了吗？难道他隐居的原因比她想象的还要可怕？
她颤抖了几下，她多么希望能穿上她的大衣，这想法比以往任何时候都强烈。忽而转念一想：如果他是个好人呢？如果黑色直升机里的家伙是坏人，她的邻居是被劫持了怎么办？她又想到这两种情况可能复杂地交织在一起。这个年代，太难分清好人坏人了。
两个男人钻进直升机，那个稍微年轻一点的男人又扶了海利的邻居一把，每一个动作都透着关心。过了一会儿，直升机开始运转，发动机发出轰隆隆的响声，航行灯在闪烁着。
海利的大脑开始快速运转。两个男人，其中一人带着武器，他们上了直升机，直升机准备起飞了。很明显，她的邻居不是飞行员，因为一看就知道不太可能，那么另一个人就是飞行员了。这意味着她的邻居是心甘情愿前往的，不是吗？否则，另一个人忙于启动直升机时，他为什么不逃跑？除非他不能。或许，他身体不好？或者仅仅只是由于太害怕而没有逃跑？
或者……还有第三个人，一直在直升机上等着？
海利发现露天平台上有人在走动，这时卡特发出奇怪的、异常的呜呜声。她意识到他们至少有三个人，因为她看到另外一个人正从房子里走出来。这个男人高高瘦瘦的，头发像夜色一样黑。
他左肩上挂着一个大行李袋。他刚走下平台的阶梯，这时两件事情同时发生了：发动机的声音越来越大，卡特突然大声地叫唤了起来。
海利还没反应过来，卡特就趁她没抓紧项圈时挣脱了她，跑了出去。让她感到惊愕的是，卡特一路狂奔，直冲向这第三个人。只见它竖起尾巴，低着头，跑过树林，穿过了对面开阔的庭院。卡特从来没有恶意，但是它直奔而去的这个男人并不知道，她只好追上去。
别想悄悄地撤走了，她正这样想着时，那个人明显已经听到卡特的叫声，于是把行李袋丢到地上。“卡特！”
卡特不理海利，而是紧盯着自己的目标。不过它跑得既开心又兴奋，以前她外出把它留在家里，看到她回来，卡特跑去跟她打招呼时就是这样。她心生疑惑，怀疑它是否认识这个人。她之前从来没有见过他，既然他已经转过身朝他们走过来，海利就知道她不会忘记这人的长相了。
卡特在海利最需要分散注意力的时候出现在她生命中，这似乎是一个谜，而现在她瞬间觉得谜底就要揭开了。
那人转过身来，直面卡特的突袭。
他掏出枪，瞄准卡特。“不！”
恐慌之下，海利发出了尖叫声。他没开枪，这本该让人松一口气。可是他突然把注意力——他的枪——瞄准了她。她继续往前跑着。他没有朝卡特开枪，但显然他比海利更具有威胁性。
她又想，也许不是这样，所以当卡特接近那个男人的时候，她的速度慢了下来。虽然她从未预料到卡特会攻击他人，但她肯定也没有想到它接下来做了什么。只见卡特乖乖地坐在那个男人脚边，然后扭过头看她，表情兴奋极了。它欢快地伸出舌头，机敏地竖起耳朵，像发现了一直寻找的玩具那样高兴。
不管怎样，卡特看起来都像是在说：“你看，我找到他了！”
这男人把他那看起来致命的黑色手枪慢慢放下，但是海利注意到，他并没有把它收起来。
她抓住了卡特的项圈，这次抓得紧紧的。“对不起。它突然从我手中跑掉了，但它没有攻击性，真的。它通常不会……我的意思是，它一般对陌生人都比较慢热。它一般不会扑到别人身上……”
她在那里喋喋不休，突然意识到这一点，就停了下来。“对不起，”她重复了一遍，“我们不是故意要闯进来。”她瞟了一眼停在那里的直升飞机，尴尬地笑了笑。海利希望她的邻居可以读懂她的表情，因为他在直升机里面，发动机的声音也很大，他肯定是听不到她的声音。“该死。”
她的目光又回到这个骂骂咧咧的人身上。他身后的光束勾勒出一道长长的身影轮廓，显得他更加高大魁梧，赫然笼罩在她面前。她的直觉告诉她，赶快离开这里，越快越好。她使劲地拉卡特的项圈，但卡特却不情愿，甚至拼命地反抗，这太不寻常了。
自从这架直升机开始在这栋房子附近嗡嗡作响，这该死的狗就一直不正常，想到这儿，她又用力地拉了拉狗的项圈。
直升机的门开了。她见到的第一个带武器的男人探出了身子。“快点，奎因。”他喊道，声音盖过了发动机的轰鸣声和螺旋桨带动的越来越大的风声。“知道了。”
海利听到这段对话，才知道这个人叫奎因，就是他吸引了卡特，让它变得这么不听话的。不过，她现在最想快点带卡特离开。通常情况下，如果非要抱卡特的话，她还是勉强能抱得动的。但是，如果它顽强抵抗，拉不拉得动它就是另一回事了。
她转过身去，打算走开，希望卡特可以跟上她。通常情况下，它都会跟上，它不喜欢离她很远。但是现在——
就在这时，那个叫奎因的男人突然出现在海利面前，挡住了她的去路，她倒吸了一口气。她根本没有听到他的脚步声。在那一瞬间，原本只是混乱不安的气氛一下子变得极具威胁性了。因为很显然，这个人不会让海利就这么走了。“抱歉。”那人说。
然后，他一把抓住她，动作快到海利没时间作出反应。那男人的手开始在她身上摸索。很显然这是搜身，而不是什么人身骚扰。
她用胳膊肘推开他：“你在干什么？”
这是一个反问句，问题提出的同时就有了答案：没干什么。海利再次试图挣脱，那男人却毫不费力地把她擒住，他是在用实际行动警告她：他比她强壮得多。
之后他直接把海利扛了起来。海利挣扎着，又抓又踢，至少重重打中了奎因一拳。她还没来得及尖叫，就已经被扔到了直升机上。她不停地扭动着身体，试图在奎因登机前逃脱。慌乱之余，她发现卡特无动于衷，只是出于关心，呜呜地叫了几声。不知怎的，海利一直以为卡特会保护她，去攻击这个男人，去咬他——
海利被推到座位上。她挣扎着想要站起来，这时奎因俯身一把抓住卡特，把重达五十磅的卡特扔到海利腿上，好像这狗跟行李袋一样轻。然后他把行李袋扔了上来，登上直升机，砰地一声关上了门。一切就这样残忍地结束了。
海利被奎因推坐到座位上。她的心砰砰直跳，颤抖的双手紧紧地抓着卡特，满脑子就想着一件事情。
她们被绑架了。
Chapter Two
"You were no help at all," Hayley muttered to the dog overwhelming her lap. Yet despite her surprise at that—a tiny emotion next to the fear that was growing every second—she clung to the furry bundle. The dog didn't seemed bothered at all by what was happening, just as he hadn't protested by even a yelp when this total stranger had grabbed him, never mind her.
She, on the other hand, was terrified. If she hadn't had the dog to hang on to, to focus on, she was sure she'd be shrieking. And then the rotors began to turn, and she did let out a little gasp.
"Thanks for the help, Teague," Quinn snapped at the other armed man. Even though he was practically yelling to be heard over the engine and growing rotor noise, the sarcasm came through.
The other man laughed. And grinned, a boyish, crooked grin she would have found charming under other circumstances. Now it just added to her growing fears.
"The day you can't handle a woman and a dog is the day I quit this gig," the man called Teague shouted back.
"I let you fly, so get us out of here."
Teague's grin flashed again, but then he was all business, turning his attention completely to controls that, Hayley noted, seemed to take not only his hands and eyes, but feet, as well. Flying a helicopter was apparently a complicated affair.
"Belt up," Quinn instructed her.
Hayley didn't react, still watching the pilot as she tried to analyze the easy, friendly banter between the two men. Did that bode well, or worse? She didn't know, and—
"Let go of the damn dog and put your seat belt on." He was yelling again now as the sound of the engine and rotors increased again.
There was too much dog to just let go of and get her hands on the belt she could see at her sides. And then the man realized that, grabbed Cutter and again lifted him as easily as if the animal didn't weigh almost half what she did. To her annoyance, the dog didn't even growl at the usually unwanted liberty taken by a stranger. But she kept her mouth shut. She didn't want to anger the man while he had the dog in his arms.
He seemed to realize that. "You want him back, do it."
She reached for the belt ends, then glanced back at her traitorous dog. Just in time to see him swipe a pink tongue over the set jaw of their captor.
"Talk about fraternizing with the enemy," she muttered as she fastened the harness-style belt, figuring she was safe enough saying it aloud, it was so noisy in here.
The only saving grace was the expression on Quinn's face; utterly startled. She wasn't sure how she knew it was not an expression he wore often, but she did. He plopped the dog back into her lap.
"Must you?"
The barely audible question came out of the darkness beside her, and Hayley realized it had come from her neighbor, the first time she'd ever heard him speak. His voice was a bit raspy, probably, she thought wryly, from disuse. And she thought it might hold a bit of an accent, although it was hard to tell from two words called out over the noise of a helicopter.
"Sorry, Vicente," Quinn said, sparking another spurt of annoyance in her; if anybody should get an apology, it should be her, shouldn't it?
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