Page 151 of The Deadly Shallows

“We have five hundred and two prisoners,” Peterson said. He turned to the men escorting him. “Marshals are less than ten out. I want a list ready for them of who they need to be searching for from Pod Three, so take note as we go through it. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” they all said.

“Into teams of two.”

MP Peterson and MP Lancer accompanied Noah toward the rear of the pod as the rest of the team peeled off two-by-two. “Death row prisoners are housed in Pod One, which was basically destroyed upon impact. Pod Two houses war crimes, and there’s a chance the majority are still alive.”

“And Pod Three?” Noah asked.

“Every other violation of the Uniform Code of Military Justice. It was the least damaged.”

They moved down the remainder of the corridor, looking into the shoebox-sized windows of each cell with a flashlight while the auxiliary lights flickered on and off.

“And if we find any injured prisoners?” Lancer asked.

“Right now, our primary objective is to determine if there are any escapees. Second is to assess that the pod is secure, and third, medical can move in.”

“We’ve got one missing from 103,” one of the MPs said over the radio.

“Roger that.”

“Which cell is Scott Mirch in?” Noah asked.

“He’s the one you think this is all about?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Cell 107,” Peterson said. “Next cell up.”

Please, Lord, let him still be in it.

Noah coughed through the smoke, approaching 107. His gut clenched at finding the door ajar. He pushed it open, gun at the ready, and his stomach plummeted. Empty.

SEVENTY-ONE

Brooke knelt by a wounded soldier, assessing his injuries. “It’s okay,” she said. “I just need to stop the bleeding.” She pulled off Noah’s coat, the deep chill seeping through her light jacket into her bones. She wrapped the coat as a temporary tourniquet around his upper arm and hollered for gauze from the medic tent. Seconds later a medic stood over her, his face obscured by the smoke.

He knelt beside her. “Remember me?”

Fear skittered along every nerve ending. Dwayne.

The muzzle of a gun poked into her side as his arm snaked around her.

“Stand up nice and slow. We’re going to take a walk to the woods.”

Her mind raced between yelling for help, trying to fight her way out, trying—

He shoved the muzzle deeper into her side. “Don’t even think about it. Now walk.”

She stood and walked in the direction he steered her. She tried to glance over her shoulder.

“Don’t turn around. Just keep walking.”

Noah will come. Please, Lord, let Noah find me.

They passed into the woods and down to a creek, her tennis shoes slipping along the snow. Water with chunks of ice flowed along it. Dwayne whistled, and Scott and Frank Mirch came into sight.

Scott had changed out of his prison garb into what looked like a federal agent’s attire. Frank wore the same. Both held guns at their sides.