Page 79 of Cole

The forest closed around them. This wasn’t where she and Cole had crossed a few days ago, and she felt immediately turned around and lost. Ancient spruce and birch surrounded them, their trunks dark against the white snow. Their branches formed a canopy overhead, blocking much of the sunlight. Janice's breath came in gasping pants, her lungs burning from the cold air and exertion.

They dodged around trees, jumped over fallen logs buried in snow, scrambled up small rises and slid down the other sides. The forest floor was treacherous with hidden roots, unexpected dips, and patches of ice beneath the snow.

More shouts behind them, closer now. Their pursuers were gaining.

"Keep going," Cheryl panted. "Don't stop. They won't expect us to cross the creek. They'll think we're heading back for the road we came in on."

But Janice wasn’t sure. She could hear the crunch of boots through snow and knew they were being hunted.

A shot rang out.

The crack echoed through the trees, impossibly loud, terrifyingly close. Janice didn't know where the bullet went, but both she and Cheryl dropped into the snowbank. The message was clear. They weren't trying to capture them anymore. They were trying to kill them.

Janice's terror crystallized like the ice she landed in. She thought of Cole and the life they'd barely begun to dream about, and of all the things she'd never get to say if she died here in this frozen forest.

No, she thought fiercely. I'm not dying here. Not today. Not like this.

She ran harder, found strength she didn't know she had, pushed past the pain in her lungs and the burning in her legs and the fear threatening to paralyze her.

And somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered if she'd ever get the chance to see Cole again. To tell him she was absolutely crazy about him. To go on dates. Get to know each other better. To find out if they really could be more… if they could be everything.

Another shot. This one was so close. Janice heard the bullet hit a tree just feet to her left, heard the crack of splintering wood.

"Keep running!" Cheryl gasped beside her. "Just keep running!"

So Janice ran, hand in hand with a woman who'd chosen redemption over complicity, running for their lives through the Alaska wilderness as gunshots echoed behind them. The creek suddenly appeared, but this wasn’t where she’d crossed before with Cole. The creek was much wider here, and the rocks used to cross were underwater as the snow melted along the bank. “Shit, we can’t cross!” she cried. Turning back to the woods, she pulled Cheryl along with her. “Follow me!” she cried out.

She had no idea where they were going. And prayed that somehow, somewhere, rescue was coming.

35

Cole killed the engine two miles from the mining camp, pulling the rental SUV off the narrow access road and into a stand of trees that would hide it from casual observation. Behind them, Timothy did the same with the second vehicle, parking it parallel to Cole's to create a makeshift staging area.

The silence after the engine died was profound, broken only by the wind through branches and the distant cry of a bird. Cole sat for a moment, hands still gripping the steering wheel, forcing himself to breathe slowly and think clearly despite the fear clawing at his chest.

Janice was out there, somewhere in that mining camp or the wilderness beyond it. And every second he spent sitting here was another second she was in danger.

Frazier's hand landed on his shoulder, firm and grounding. "We'll get her out. But we go in smart, not stupid."

Cole nodded, released the steering wheel, and climbed down, walking to the back. He reached for the weapons brought from Montana. He checked the M4 and then confirmed that the Glock 19 was secured at his waist. He then verified that his ear radio had a signal so he could stay in contact with the compound and ran through a mental checklist.

Frazier appeared at the driver's side window, already pulling on gloves against the cold. "Ready when you are."

The cold hit him immediately, but he'd dressed for it with layers under his heavy coat, insulated gloves, and boots rated for this weather. But the chill still found ways in, reminding him they were operating in wilderness that could be as dangerous as any human threat. And that there was no way Janice was dressed for this environment. That thought only fueled his anger.

He touched his radio and called the compound. "We're two miles out, going in on foot," Cole said without preamble.

"Copy that." Logan's voice was calm, controlled. "Sadie's tracking Janice's pendant. She's moving, Cole. Not in the main camp anymore. Heading east into the forest."

Cole's jaw tightened. “She might be trying to get to the creek to cross. What about the federal agents?"

"Twenty minutes out. FBI and EPA both have warrants. Once you get Janice, pull back and let them handle the arrests."

"Understood." Cole looked at Timothy and Frazier, both of them waiting for direction. "We're moving in."

"Be careful," Logan said simply.

They moved out, slipping through the forest with purpose but without the rigid military formations Cole had left behind years ago. This wasn't a combat mission. This was a rescue. Get in, get Janice, get out. Simple. Or at least it should be simple.