No Safe Haven (34 page)

A beep signaled the end of the call. Viper let out a sigh. "Well, now. I'm going to leave you alone with your thoughts a few minutes."

Cole listened to Viper's footsteps. He must be circling them.

"And maybe by the time I get back, you'll remember what the codes are."

He heard a rustle and a quick intake of breath.

"Or your daughter here, will take a little trip with me."

"No! I don't know the codes. Please, don't hurt my daughter!" Jenna's voice shook.

"We'll see."

Footsteps.

Movement up the stairs.

The creak of the outside bunker door.

SLAM!

The sliding of . . . a chain?

Viper was locking them in. Good.

He opened his eyes. "Jenna, Andie, don't say anything, be really quiet."

They both rushed to his side.

"Cole!" Jenna's concern pricked his heart.

Andie tugged on his hands. "Why didn't you hide? I texted you. Tried to warn you—"

"I didn't get any texts. But then, those cheap phones of ours probably wouldn't have reception in here."

Andie touched his face. "I was so worried about you."

"No need, Squirt. Not with my hard head. Now, we don't have a lot of time." He sat, scowling when he felt blood trickle down his face. "Andie, I want you to sit on the stairs and listen at the door. As soon as you hear him coming, let me know."

Her little girl arms around his waist were better than completing any mission he'd ever gone on. "Got it." She spun to the stairs, scrambled up them, and sat near the top.

"Jenna, I need you to think. We've got to figure out Marc's password. We need a nine-digit sequence."

Her dark eyes pooled. "I was so worried . . ." She shook her head. "Protect with my heart. That was the message, right?"

"Yes." His brain flashed back to the plane crash. The locked bag. "Hey, Jenna. What was in your locked laptop bag?"

She frowned at him. "Andie's medical files, why?"

There went that theory. "Just wondering if Marc had left you some other clue."

"Sorry. But I did find that shiny, little black box. It had Marc's initials on it, but it was locked."

"Black box? Viper had one of those . . . he fiddled with it a lot." Thoughts careened through his mind. But if Viper had a black box, why would he need Marc's?

Jenna pulled it out of her pocket. "Here."

He turned it over in his hands. Nothing. "Only his initials." Cole gave it back to Jenna.

"Why don't we focus on the clue he gave you." She began to pace the small room. Back and forth, the limp from her injury very pronounced. "'Protect with my heart.' That doesn't make any sense." She let out a sigh. "But then, Marc was frighteningly good at making up riddles. This won't be easy, Cole." The pacing continued as she stared at the floor, the ceiling, and the carving in the wall. Stopping in her tracks, she reached to her neck and grabbed something. "Wait a minute. Heart. Marc's dogtags. He wore them over his heart." She slipped the chain over her head and studied the engravings.

Cole stepped beside her and looked over her shoulder.

"The only number is his Social Security Number. Marc would never use that. It's too easy."

"Wait." Cole looked from one tag to the other. "Look. The other tag is different."

Her brow furrowed. "But aren't both tags supposed to be the same?"

He studied the numbers. "Marc must've switched them. This tag contains the same numbers as his SSN but in a different order."

Jenna looked toward the door. "How much time do we have?"

"Not long."

"Then, let's try it. I can't think of anything else."

He walked back over to the keyboard, Jenna right beside him. Tapping the space bar, the screen once again came to life. Nine blank boxes were all that filled the screen. He entered the sequence from the different dogtag and hit enter.

The boxes scrolled and flew around the screen, coming back to rest empty in front of him.

SEQUENCE ORDER flashed over the boxes.

"Put them in the correct order this time." Jenna suggested.

Could it really be that easy? He tapped in the appropriate numbers and hit enter again.

This time the boxes completely disappeared.

A cursor flashed and then SQUIRT appeared with eight bubbles underneath.

"There's only eight digits this time." Jenna chewed on her thumbnail and turned to Andie. "You know any special, eight-digit code?"

Andie slowly shook her head.

Jenna turned back to him. "What do we do?"

"I don't know.
Squirt
was his nickname for Andie, right?"

"Yeah."

"Did he have any other nicknames for her? What about her initials? An Athabaskan nickname of some sort?" He shook his head. That was reaching. Too many possibilities.

The beautiful woman beside him grabbed his hand. "We need to pray."

For once, he didn't feel like arguing. "Okay." Holding her hand again sent a jolt up his arm into his skull. This woman turned him inside-out.

"Heavenly Father, we don't know what to do. And we're afraid. We need that code, so many lives are at stake. Please give Cole the wisdom he needs to finish this mission. And please forgive me where I've failed You. In Jesus' name, Amen."

"Amen." Andie's voice floated from the stairs.

He looked at the kid. Stuck between being a little girl and a teenager, she was all heart. In that moment he remembered his first thoughts of her,
innocence and wisdom. Terrifying combination.
Now wasn't that the truth. That little girl had pried open his heart and wormed her way inside. And he loved her as if she were his own.

Fiddling with her Medic-Alert bracelet, her bottom lip between her teeth, he could almost hear the wheels turning in her brain.

"Why would Dad put
SQUIRT
in there if I don't know what the code is?" She looked at her mom.

"I don't know, sweetie. I don't know."

Andie's eyes grew round. "Unless . . ."

"Unless what?" Cole walked over to her.

Andie's eyes shone in the dim light of the stairwell. Flipping over her bracelet, she showed Cole the back. "Unless he knew I didn't have to
know
the code, just always have it with me."

"That's got to be it!" Jenna grabbed his arm, bouncing on her toes. "Andie never takes off her MedicAlert bracelet, and Marc memorized the number."

Cole went to crouch beside Andie. Sure enough. Her ID number was eight digits. He smacked her cheek with a sloppy kiss and raced back to the keyboard. "Read me those numbers, Einstein. Your name was never more fitting."

His fingers flew over the keys. As soon as his pinky hit enter, the wall slid open, revealing a solid steel door that lifted up from the floor into the ceiling. "Andie, stay there and listen for anyone coming. Jenna, stay outside the door in case this thing closes on me. You'll probably have to start over with the sequences to get me out."

His girls nodded at him.

Ducking to fit through the opening, Cole walked into the small cubicle. Only about eight feet square, the far corners were stacked with boxes of files. On one wall were three computers with labels above each of them. Possibly other programs or weapons he'd been working on. And then to his right were four file boxes labeled AMI, a metal lock box with the same label, and a stack of DVDs.

"Cole!" Andie's loud whisper jerked his attention back. She scooted down the stairs, a finger to her lips, her other arm pointing frantically at the door. "Footsteps . . . coming . . ."

He walked out of the room, and hit enter on the keyboard. Nothing happened.

"How do we get it to close?" Jenna gripped his arm. "We can't let them find it."

"I know, I know." His heart raced. Holding his breath, he couldn't think of anything else to try. The screen was blank. No help. No clues.
God, I could use some—

Andie was beside him now, tugging on his shirt. "How about typing c-l-o-s-e?"

If anyone understood Marc's labyrinthine mind, it was probably his kid. He shrugged his shoulders and typed in the letters.

The doors closed.

Of course. Why hadn't he thought of that?

They let out a collective sigh and huddled down on the floor.

"What do we do?" Jenna had a death grip on his arm.

"I'm working on that."

Andie scooted closer. "I'll keep praying."

"That'd be great." And he meant it. They were going to need a miracle to get out of this.

The clanking of metal against metal came from the door.

Think.

It creaked and groaned as it opened.

Viper's thousand-dollar shoes appeared on the steps.

God, help us.

"Well, well, well . . . Look who's awake?" Viper chuckled and aimed his gun at Cole. "Have a nice nap, Maddox?"

Before he could respond, a growl erupted behind Viper. A ball of fur attacked the big man's arm.

"Dasha!" Andie jumped up, but Jenna held her back.

Dasha's teeth were around Viper's hand.

This was his chance. Cole tackled Viper and pummeled his face with his fists. Dasha violently shook Viper's hand in her teeth, ripping the gun from Viper's hand, taking part of his trigger finger with it.

His old boss didn't even cry out, just wrapped both hands around Cole's neck and squeezed.

With a knee to the man's groin, Cole spun and flipped him onto his back. Much-needed air flowed through his windpipe. He yelled to the girls. "Get out of here! Now!"

Viper came at him again, plowing him into the cement wall.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

ANDIE

April 14

North Pole, Alaska

Tikanni-Gray property along the Chena River

4:18 a.m.

Cole took another punch as Mom, Dasha, and I cowered in a corner.
God help Cole, help Cole, please help!

Cole tackled the guy and grunted.
"Go!"

Mom shot up and ran, dragging me with her. Dasha followed, nudging my leg and propelling me forward.

We ran-limp-hobbled as fast as we could. I didn't want to leave Cole but couldn't pull against Mom's grip. She kept looking behind us as we ran.

God, please help us!

Mom tried to gain speed, but tripped. Everything moved in slow motion as she fell and screamed in pain. I fell to my knees and tried not to squash her.

Looking down, I saw her leg wound, open and bleeding. Her pant leg had been ripped open and had a hole at least a foot long. My stomach clenched as I realized how bad it was.

"Mom—"

"We have to run!" She grabbed my hand and we started running.

I could tell the more we ran the more her leg hurt. She stumbled, but kept scrambling along.

Dasha barked and growled. Before I could comment, an explosion sounded near the house, knocking us to the ground.

Our home burst into flames and sparks flew everywhere.

Dasha cuddled up against my back, still barking, but this time at the fire all around us. Mom tore her pants and used the cloth to wrap around her leg. She grabbed my hand and stood. We ran for a few feet, but her leg gave away again and we fell back onto the ground.

Smoke filled the air and the sky went black as the fire spread.

We started crawling.

My legs began to burn and the itchy feeling crept onto my back. Mom thrust her water bottle at me.

S
he still had one? Thank You, Jesus!
I sipped it, not knowing how long we would be crawling.

Every time I thought we were getting close to a safe place the fire would move in front of us and we'd have to go around.

Another explosion near the house sent us sprawling to the ground. Were they blowing up everything?

The trees were all on fire and I kept tripping on rocks, bushes, and twigs. I got hotter by the minute and knew it would only be a few seconds before I passed out.

Oh, no . . . Jesus, help me!

I gripped Mom's arm.

The blackness came.

COLE

4:25 a.m.

A third explosion rent the air. Soon, every building on the property would be engulfed. They were surrounded by fire. And his girls were in there . . . somewhere.

How would he find them? Save them?

What if he couldn't save them? What if this was the end? Jenna had said if it was her time, she was ready.

But he wasn't.

Wasn't ready to let go again.

Wasn't ready to lose.

Wasn't ready to die.

Wasn't ready to meet his Maker.

But if this was the end—if he couldn't save them—he still needed to set things straight. Because it didn't have to be the end. If he couldn't be with them here, he wanted to be with them in eternity.

"God, I get it. I need Your help. I'm Yours. Body and soul. Do with me what You will."

A cooling wave of peace rushed throughout his body even as the heat of the flames drew closer. The peace filled him. Took over his senses.

God had heard him. He knew it as sure as he knew anything. And He'd responded with a flooding of strength and joy.

New purpose propelled him forward as he raced into the heart of the fire.

JENNA

4:27 a.m.

"Andie!"

The scream scratched and pierced Jenna's dry throat. She worked to drag them both away from the fire, but it began to close in. Dasha circled them, nudging Andie with her nose. Whining and yapping at her beloved mistress.

The flames licked higher and higher.

Too hot.

What could she do? Nowhere to go. Her water was gone. The fire surrounded them. She fanned her daughter, but fear took hold. What if it was too late? She placed her hand on Andie's forehead. Too hot.

A lone figure jumped through the flames toward them.

Please, God! Let it be Cole. Please. I need help! Please, save my baby!

The figure crouched low, appearing and disappearing in the smoke.

In an instant, Cole was beside her, scooping up Andie with one arm, and grabbing Jenna around the waist with the other. "Hang on!" The roar of the flames grew.

Dragging her leg behind her, she hopped to keep up with Cole as he guided them. Dasha was glued to her side, whimpering and barking at the fire around them. As they came to the wall separating them from the plane, she prayed. How would they make it through?