Page 80 of Cole

The terrain was difficult, with deep snow in places, hidden ice in others, fallen logs, and dense underbrush, forcing them to move carefully. But for these Keepers, it was just another day at the office.

Timothy led the way, finding paths through the worst of it, keeping them moving steadily toward the camp. Frazier brought up the rear, occasionally glancing back to make sure they weren't being followed. And Cole moved between them, his mind split between the physical demands of the hike and the constant worry about Janice.

"How's she doing?" Cole radioed, keeping his voice low.

Sadie's voice came back, tense. "Still moving but not moving fast. Pattern erratic. She might be turned around or confused about where to go."

"Or being chased," Frazier muttered.

Cole's chest tightened, but he kept moving. Through gaps in the trees, he could start to see signs of the mining operation… disturbed earth, tire tracks, small buildings in the distance.

And then he heard it—a gunshot, distant but unmistakable.

Timothy stopped, crouching low. Frazier moved up beside Cole.

"Fuck," Timothy said quietly.

Cole's blood went cold. "Logan, we've got gunfire."

Logan's voice remained steady. "Federal agents are pushing their arrival time. Fifteen minutes now. Stay alert."

They moved faster, sacrificing some caution for speed. Another shot rang out, closer this time, followed by shouting—male voices, angry and urgent.

Cole's training warred with his fear for Janice. Every instinct screamed at him to run toward those shots, but rushing in blind could get them all killed.

"Spread out a bit," he said quietly. "Keep eyes open for anyone with weapons."

They advanced, and the mining camp came into view through the trees. Cole dropped behind a fallen log, taking in the scene. The camp looked mostly deserted. The workers had probably scattered when shooting started. He wondered whether the mine employees were usually armed or whether Penson had his own protection team.

Three men stood near a supply shed, armed with rifles, scanning the far tree line. They wore the Northern Summit jackets he’d seen at Penson's house. And their body language said they were looking for something. Or someone.

"I count three armed men," Cole said into his phone for Logan's benefit. "They're hunting for someone."

"That would be Janice," Sadie's voice came through. "Her tracker just changed direction. She's heading more southwest now. Still moving fast."

A woman's scream cut through the air, sharp with terror. Not words, just pure fear.

Cole was moving before he consciously decided to, his body responding to that sound with every protective instinct he possessed.

"Cole, wait—" Timothy called after him, but Cole didn't stop.

He burst from cover, running toward the sound of that scream. Behind him, Timothy and Frazier scrambled to follow, to provide backup, but Cole's entire focus was on getting to Janice.

One of the armed men spotted him and shouted. Cole saw the rifle coming up, aimed at him. He dove behind a bulldozer as the shot cracked through the air, the bullet pinging off metal somewhere above his head.

"Dammit," he muttered, pressing himself against the massive machine. So much for a quiet extraction.

"Cole, you've got more coming," Frazier called out. His rifle fired once, the sound making Cole flinch. "That one's down. Shoulder shot. But at least three more are emerging from the bunkhouse."

Timothy's voice was calmer. "Most of them look like regular workers. Scared, confused. But a few are definitely armed and looking for a fight."

Cole risked a glance around the bulldozer's tire. The camp was erupting into chaos with unarmed workers running for cover, a few armed men taking defensive positions. This was escalating fast.

"Logan, what's the ETA on those federal agents?" Cole demanded into his phone.

"Ten minutes," Logan said, his voice tight with frustration. "Can you hold that long?"

Cole wasn't trying to hold territory. He was trying to get to Janice before something terrible happened. "Sadie, where is she?"