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I’m going to die here.
Her chest heaved with ragged gasps, her throat raw and painful from choking on the smoke-filled air. Her eyelids felt like sandpaper each time she blinked. The bare skin of her forearms tingled as it contracted in the inescapable heat.
She whirled to inspect the wall, searching for a crack or chink to pry with her fingers. The old shack literally rotted in place. Surely she could find a weak spot in the weathered wood. Three boards from the corner, about knee height, a knot caught her gaze. It had shrunk away from the surrounding lumber and contained visible cracks. Her father had taught her not to choose the knotted boards she found so pretty at a young age because they weren’t as strong as those without, especially as they aged.
Sending a silentthanks, Dadtoward the heavens, Jordan rammed her foot into the knot, encouraged when the round, dark spot popped out and disappeared on the other side of the wall. Her next kick split the board at the flaw and jerked rusty nails from old framing near the floor. She grasped the cracked board and twisted until the piece broke free in her hand. Tossing it aside, she started working on the upper section, jerking and shoving it to the side until there was a gap big enough for her to slip sideways and duck through.
The fire at her back far outweighed any fear she might have had that Brody would linger to ensure she was dead. As soon as she squeezed through the opening, those fears vanished. Wood rounds, stacked taller than her head, provided cover with barely enough room between the stack and the flames lapping at the other side of the wall for her to shimmy out sideways.
Jordan stopped at the edge of the wood stack to get her bearings. There was no sign of Brody, but he could be out front. She couldn’t hear anything over the roar of the fire, so her best chance would be to head for the thick trees not too far from where she crouched. The wound she’d inflicted on Brody should slow him down, and even if he saw her, she’d at least have a chance of losing him. Maybe blood loss would help him decide she wasn’t worth the effort.
She could see her breath in the chilled air, and the sudden cooling of her hot skin sent a shiver through her. Her coat would have been nice, but she’d be all right for a while if she kept moving. Anything was better than burning alive. With the fire crackling in her ears, she sprinted for the trees. Once she reached them, she continued until her lungs ached and tired legs threatened to fold beneath her. Leaning her weight on her thighs, she tried to catch her breath.
Jordan could still smell wood burning, but now it easily could have been from a hunter’s campfire somewhere within twenty square miles.How far did I run?Looking back the way she’d come, she could still see the haze of black smoke hanging in the sky, dispersed by the wind. Soon even that would be gone. Carefully, she devised a mental map that would lead her back the way she’d come, using mountain peaks, ridges, rock formations, and gnarled tree trunks as landmarks.
Once she was sure Brody was gone, she’d need to return to the shack. From there, Jordan felt confident she could find her way back to Halstead’s house. There was no going back until reasonably certain Brody had given up the chase. She’d have to trust her sense of direction and her memory at that point. She huffed a mocking laugh.My sense of direction has served me so well in the past.But this time would be different. She’d learned from her previous carelessness and wouldn’t make those mistakes again.
Sometime after leaving the clearing, fat snowflakes started to fall. Thankfully, the snow wasn’t covering the ground yet, but her tracks would lead Brody straight to her as soon as the flakes began to stick. Jordan’s gaze swept a three-sixty. To her left, the terrain sloped off to lower ground. Ahead, thick vegetation stretched as far as she could see. A steep and treacherous climb awaited to the right, along with colder weather and more snow.
Her priority was to stay out of Brody’s clutches. She’d be dead if he or his band of thugs found her.
But, they won’t expect me to climb a mountain.
Just staying ahead of him wasn’t good enough. Jordan would need to find shelter before the sun went down and hypothermia became enemy number one.
*****
IT DIDN’T TAKE LONGfor the shack to collapse, though it had seemed an eternity in Travis’s grief and guilt. The fire now crackled and snapped lazily, and if not for its size and the immense amount of heat it radiated, he could imagine it was a bonfire built by campers about to roast marshmallows. It was agony watching, knowing Jordan was in there, buried beneath the ashes. He couldn’t help but hope the last gunshot they’d heard had ended her life, sparing her this.
He kicked Brody’s unconscious form in helpless frustration, jerked the man’s head off the ground, and leveraged his arm around his worthless neck. One twist, and no one would ever have to worry about Brody again.
No. The bastard would be getting off easy. He should suffer as much as Jordan.
“You don’t want to do that.” Coop’s calm voice broke through Travis’s murderous rage. It wasn’t a question or a command—just a simple statement. Coop wouldn’t judge him.
Travis dropped Brody without a word, letting him fall to the ground like a flour sack. Coop stepped forward, cuffed Brody, and dragged him farther from the shack and away from Travis. It hadn’t been necessary because Travis had redirected his anger to himself.
He darted his gaze skyward at the first sound of the chopper. The PTS Security insignia on its belly announced the cavalry had arrived. It seemed like days since he’d called his partners requesting evacuation.
They were supposed to evac Jordan.
He’d given them Joseph Halstead’s house near Big Summit Prairie as a reference point, but they’d tracked him down anyway. Apparently, his team had no trouble locating the plume of black smoke that still lingered overhead. The rotors beat the air into a frenzy, swirling sand and smoke in a man-made dust devil as the helicopter settled some distance from the smoldering remains.
Special Agent Roberts and another FBI agent jumped from the aircraft before it landed. After it touched down, Luke and MacGyver followed suit, bending low as they jogged toward the fire. Blake remained in the pilot’s seat.
Roberts immediately took charge of the prisoner, issuing orders to his subordinate, who unceremoniously hoisted Brody over his shoulder and packed him to the helo. Roberts turned to study Travis, who hadn’t moved from his spot near the fire. “Is he the only one?”
“The only one still alive.” Travis raked a hand over his stubbled face, anger flaring anew.
Roberts remained quiet, apparently expecting him to elaborate. Travis couldn’t force the words out and walked a few steps away, hoping like hell he could keep from puking.
“Alex and Joe Halstead are dead. Brody was wounded when we got here.” Coop ticked through the list of players. “Did you get everyone at the ranch?”
“Everyone except Kyle Jensen, but he won’t get far. I think it’s safe to say this domestic terrorist unit has suffered a serious disruption.”
Travis spoke without turning. “Your employee, Carmen? She’s dead too. I suggest a deeper background check before hiring next time.” He turned to see the disbelief registered on Roberts’s face change quickly to fury.
“What about Jordan?” Roberts’s voice softened, and Travis felt certain he’d only intended the question for Coop’s ears.
