Page 81 of Cole

"Three hundred yards west of your position, still moving."

"Timothy, Frazier, I need to get to her," Cole said. "Can you keep these guys occupied?"

"We've got your back," Timothy confirmed. "Go get your girl."

Frazier fired again, and Cole heard cursing from somewhere in the camp. "Another shoulder shot. That's two down. The rest are getting smart, staying behind cover."

Cole took a breath, then ran. He sprinted across open ground, using the confusion and the covering fire from his friends, heading for the tree line where that scream had come from.

Bullets snapped through the air, but nothing came close. He reached the forest and plunged into the trees, following the direction Sadie had given him.

"Janice!" he shouted, not caring about stealth anymore. "Janice, where are you?"

Branches grabbed at his coat as he ran. His boots slipped on ice beneath the snow, nearly sending him down, but he caught himself and kept going. Every second felt like an hour.

"She's two hundred yards ahead of you," Sadie's voice said through his phone. "Heading south."

He adjusted course, pushing through thick spruce. Another gunshot rang out, close enough that he heard the bullet hit a tree somewhere to his left.

And then he saw them. Two women, stumbling through deep snow about a hundred yards ahead. One was Janice. Even bundled in an oversized coat, he knew her. The other was a woman he didn't recognize. They were holding hands, pulling each other forward through drifts that came up to their knees.

Behind them, maybe fifty yards back, three men with rifles were closing in.

Cole dropped to one knee, bringing his rifle up. The nearest man was raising his weapon, aiming at Janice's back.

Time seemed to slow. Cole's breathing steadied, his finger found the trigger, and he did what years of experience had taught him. He took the shot.

The man went down, his own shot going wild into the snow. The other two scattered, looking for cover.

"Janice!" Cole shouted, already running toward her. "Get down!"

Both women dropped flat into the snow as bullets cut through the air where they'd been standing.

Cole kept moving, using trees for cover when he could, closing the distance. His radio crackled with voices. Timothy reported two more armed men giving up, tossing their guns to the ground. Frazier radioed something about ammunition, but it all faded into background noise.

All that mattered was reaching Janice. Thirty yards. Twenty. He could see her face now, pale with cold and fear, her eyes going wide as she recognized him.

"Cole!" His name on her blue lips sent relief flooding through him.

Ten yards. One of the men behind her rose from cover, his rifle tracking toward where she lay in the snow.

Cole fired, the shot catching the man in the leg. Not fatal, but enough to take him out of the fight. The man spun and went down, his weapon falling into the snow.

The last pursuer turned and ran back toward the camp. Cole radioed for the others to watch for him.

Cole reached Janice and dropped to his knees beside her, his hands running over her, checking for injuries, for blood, for any sign she'd been hit.

"Are you hurt? Janice, are you okay?"

"I'm okay," she gasped, her teeth chattering. "Not hurt. Just cold and scared."

He pulled her up from the snow and into his arms, holding her tight enough that he was probably crushing her. But she was alive. She was here. She was safe. He let her go long enough to rip off his jacket and wrap it around her. "I've got you," he said against her hair. "You're safe now."

The other woman sat up in the snow, watching them. "Are you here to help?"

Cole looked at her, taking in the Northern Summit jacket and recognizing the woman from Penson’s home. "Who are you?" he growled, now with his weapon trained on her.

"Cheryl Whitten. I work… worked… for Northern Summit. I've been documenting what they're doing here for months." She swallowed hard. "I helped Janice escape."