No Safe Haven (9 page)

Made him feel.

His teeth clamped together. Focus. Focus on what was important. On getting her up to her mom. Safe. Analyze the mountain. Each step. Don't think about the interactions with these two since the crash.

Wait a minute. Interactions since the crash . . .

He frowned. Why had Andie rushed back to Hank's side before they left? "Tell me about your conversation with Hank."

Her face scrunched up, frowning from her hairline down to her chin. "I don't know why he did what he did. But, he deserved to know that God loves him no matter what."

"Oh really." Cole couldn't help the cynicism that washed out the words.

"Yeah, really." Those demanding eyes grabbed his attention.

No, he wouldn't get suckered into this one. He looked away.

"No matter who we are, or what we've done, God loves each one of us. Don't you believe that, Cole?"

Such innocence. Such faith. Totally blind. "Look, I don't want to burst your bubble, kid. And I don't want to belittle what you believe in, but no. I don't."

She sighed. Then shook her head. "It's a good thing God doesn't give up on us as easily as we give up on Him."

"I didn't say I gave up on Him."

"But you never gave Him a chance, did you?"

"Let's just say I've never needed to."

She laughed at him. This tiny preteen, who struggled for her own life—was laughing at him. "Oh, you've needed to. You're just too stinkin' stubborn to admit it. And for your information, Hank listened. He needed to be taken care of. Maybe you do too."

He didn't like the way this conversation was going. "Well, maybe you should
pray
for him. That would take care of him."

His sarcasm wasn't well received. Andie shot him a glare. "I
have
been praying for him. And I'm gonna
keep
praying for him. And you know what? I'm gonna pray for you too. 'Cause
you
obviously need it."

"Let's table this discussion for later."

"Why?"

"Because I need to know more about your . . . disease."

"Yeah, good excuse. And it's not a disease."

He cocked an eyebrow at her irritated tone. "Okay then, it's not a disease. But since you have me as your captive audience, why don't you explain your . . .
problem
with me."

She studied his face. "As long as you promise we'll talk about God later."

"Fine. Whatever." Tenacious kid. "Now tell me about . . ."

"HSAN? Sure, okay. It stands for Hereditary Sensory Autonomic Neuropathy."

"Wow. That's a mouthful." His words were clipped as the thin air pressed his lungs.

"Yeah, you should try to spell it."

He
humphed.

"Anyway, I can't sweat, I don't feel pain, and I also had brain surgery last year. But it was for something else, because I couldn't feel the pain of the problem, so they had to do surgery. But I'm better now."

Did all preteen girls dump information this fast? "So, you could have . . ."

"What?" Andie scrunched her eyebrows. "Just say it. I'm not a baby."

"I know that. I just realized you could have died back there and I didn't like that thought." The exertion of climbing, carrying extra weight, and talking began to make him light-headed.

They were almost over the ledge. Andie waved her hand at her mom, smiled, and then looked back at him. "You know what, Cole?"

"Hmm?" He concentrated on his grip, securing each foothold before the next.

"I think you're the first person to actually understand the depth of my disorder on the first try. Seriously, people—even family members—don't always get it until they've been around us for a long time. Thanks. For understanding."

Heaving them over the ledge onto easier terrain, his heart hammered in his chest. And not just from the exertion. How could this be happening? A carefully guarded space inside him begged to be unlocked.

No. Not again.

Never.

He unfastened Andie and collapsed in the snow as mother and daughter united. They must've made some good progress today, the air was thinner. Definitely higher altitude. Breathing deep, he took a minute to take off his pack and compose himself.
Keep your mind on the mission.

His traitorous mind had other plans.

Not one soul had penetrated his heart in more than nine years. And that was how he wanted it. His promise was costing him more by the minute.

The girls' voices drifted over him.

"Oh, Mom, I was so scared! I tried to call your name, but it was already too late. I just wish I could feel it sooner."

"Honey, I'm so sorry. I should've checked your temperature earlier. I'm just glad you're okay." Jenna touched noses with her daughter. "You'd think in two-degree weather, we wouldn't have to worry about it, huh?"

Andie's giggles floated in the air around him. "Mom, you crack me up. I'm so glad you're my mom. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Same here, kiddo. Thank God He saw fit to give you to me."

Cole turned away from the scene.
Then why does He take people away?

Clouds continued to swirl and gather around the peaks of Denali and Sultana. The weather wouldn't hold much longer. They had to move.

"Jenna, Andie," he barked. "Time to go."

Jenna turned and approached him slowly. "Cole. Thank you." Placing one hand over her chest and another on his arm, she continued, "I can't tell you what it means—"

"Not a problem. But we need to get moving." His words impaled her smile, but this was solid ground. The mission. "There's a storm coming. I can feel it."

Hurt shone in her eyes. "Okay." She went back to Andie. "Honey, we need to go."

In silence, they replaced packs and adjusted ropes.

"We're ready, Cole." Andie gave him a thumbs-up and lifted her ski mask over her head. A smile shaped her lips, but her complexion was pale.

"You all right?"

"I'm tired. But if I don't keep moving, my body will just quit."

Cole turned to Jenna for help. What did that mean?

Jenna's eyes were guarded. "Don't push too hard."

He could read between the lines. If something happened, she'd blame him. Well, that wasn't going to happen. He pasted on a smile and looked to Andie. "All right, Einstein. I want you right behind me this time, and I mean
directly
behind me, okay?" He attached another shorter rope between just the two of them. "If you need anything, tug on this rope, and if you slip or misstep, I'll feel the tug. Keep your coat around your waist for right now, but keep your skin covered. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Let's go."

Snow began to fall. He kept their pace slower and more cautious. Snow crunched beneath his boots as his crampons took hold each icy step. If the situation wasn't so dire, he'd be enjoying this trek. Sultana was a steep climb, but she was beautiful. Every time the sun broke through the clouds, the snow turned into a million, brilliant prisms.

An all-too-familiar sound broke through his reverie. He put up his hand and looked down at the girls. "Stop. Quiet."

Tearing off his goggles and hat, he strained his ears, listening to every sound. The clouds partially below them now cut off his line of sight, so he focused all his energy on his hearing.

Then it came . . . the steady thump. Like an airborne heartbeat.

A chopper.

"Cole!" Excitement filled Jenna's voice. "Cole! They're here! They're here to rescue us! Go down, let's go down!"

"No!" He knew that helo. It wasn't rangers.

The girls stopped in their tracks.

Jenna stared him down. "Why?" She yanked at her goggles and mask, eyes fixed on his face. She must have read the answer there, because horror filled her eyes and her face drained of color. "No. You mean . . . ?"

"We need cover, and fast. If they spot us up here, they won't hesitate to kill us."

Andie and Jenna drew close. Cole checked out the surroundings. About twenty yards east a rock outcropping might provide cover. He prayed the ledge would be enough. His gut told him they were in for more than the girls could handle.

Pointing to the area, he waited for Jenna's nod. He grabbed the girls' hands. "Okay, dig your crampons in with each step so you have a grip, we're going to move as fast as we can."

With a deep breath, he charged forward, dragging them along.

The
thwump-thwump
of the helo's blades grew closer.

Each step took great effort. Clunky boots sinking into the deep snow. His arms stretched behind as he pulled and tugged the girls, leaning all his weight forward, the ropes were taut. Just a few more feet. His muscles burned, his lungs starving for air. Just . . . a few . . . more . . .

Diving for the small area under the rocky ledge, he pulled Jenna and Andie with him. They collapsed in the snow, chests heaving, gasping for oxygen.

He glanced below. Clouds moved in and out. The helicopter shifted with the wind and snow, but clearly hovered over the crash site. Minutes dragged by. Ten, then fifteen . . . If only he could see!

A break in the clouds gave him a brief view. Ropes swung below the helo. They must be checking the plane. A curse blew out his lips. It would give away the one card he had left—that Andie and Jenna were still alive.

A huge blast of Arctic air hit them, throwing them back against the rocks. At least the bad weather was working in their favor. Cole leaned back out to check the chopper. The ropes were being pulled back up as it rocked and swayed in the wind. But it continued to hover.

Too much time had passed. His brain grasped for escape options. But then, another break in the clouds opened a full view to him. "Oh, no." All the air in his lungs left him in a great whoosh as he anticipated the next move from the enemy below.

"Cover your ears!" Looking back at the girls, he yanked the ropes closer to him, pulling them in from the edge.

The short whistle of the missile barreling toward its target preceded a deafening explosion.

Both girls screamed, their gazes glued to the blast.

Cole glanced down. A giant fireball exploded and then grew in huge waves of flame and smoke, like an angry beast devouring everything in its path.

CRACK!!

The mountain rumbled around them and Cole threw himself over Andie, shoving her as far under the rock as possible. "Jenna!" He grabbed for her, even as his head collided with the massive ledge—and light disappeared.

CHAPTER EIGHT

ANDIE

April 7

Sultana, Denali National Park

1:59 p.m.

The snow roared and thundered around us.

Hank was dead.

God, why?

"We'll send someone back for him. He'll be fine."

Fine?
This is what you call fine?
He's dead! I balled my hands into fists. If we had taken him with us, he could still be alive.

But then we wouldn't have been.

No sooner had we gotten under the hanging-rock-cliff-thing than the snow pummeled down. If it hadn't been for Cole, we would have been dead.

I couldn't believe it. Didn't want to believe it. Someone was really after us, and wanted to
kill
us. My body trembled.

Hank was dead; we could have been dead.

We could die . . . We probably would die.

What was happening? All I knew at the moment was we were safe under a gigantic rock with an avalanche in action.

And I was cold.

But I felt safe.

My head rested against something that heaved up and down in a slow pattern.

Cole.

His arms wrapped around me, protecting me from the powerful cascade of snow.

He was cold, unconscious, and had a huge bump on his forehead.

He had risked his
life
for me.

He had saved me.

But why? Was he really a good guy, or the bad guy? Could I really trust him with our
lives?

Flashbacks and memories flooded over warming my heart.

In many ways Cole was just like Daddy.

Strong, protective, gruff but lovable . . .

And secretive.

Dad always had secrets. Did men always have them?

"North Korea is anxious to get the prototype"
. . . What was he saying? What did he mean? And why did
I
need to keep it a secret?

I shook my head.

Daddy was dead, so I didn't need to remember it any longer.
You just need to forget about it, Andie.

The ground shuddered. Or was that me?

I wanted to trust Cole. But why was he still not awake?

Where's Mom? Why can't I see her?

I tried to see past Cole's massive shoulder.

What if Cole dies? What if his head injury is worse than it seems?

I shook him, but with his muscular frame he didn't feel a thing.

Ugh. God, what do I do now? Am I supposed to sit here while we run out of oxygen?

Cole began to stir.

Wow, that was a fast reply!

Whether he was good or bad, he was alive.

And that's what matters. He's trying to keep us safe. Right?

"North Korea . . . prototype . . . North Korea . . ."

I shook my head, ridding it of the annoying chant. Why did it keep popping up in my mind?

God, please get rid of that memory, it's driving me crazy! Please help Mom and Cole be okay.

Cole began to wiggle within my grip.

Thanks, God.

LEAPER

2:01 p.m.

It was done.

No one needed to know anything else.

Regret washed over him as a memory of Gray talking about his family surfaced.

What was wrong with him? Had he gone completely soft? Or had the stress of Viper breathing down his neck finally snapped every fiber of what little sanity he had left?

He shook his head to clear the questions, and sat a little straighter in the small, metal seat. Even in his discomfort, the facts were there. He did his job. End of story.

He turned his thoughts to the task at hand. Once AMI was acquired, they would all be very rich. A sardonic chuckle started in his gut. Ah, yes, money was a powerful thing. A trusted ally, a best friend, a companion—that didn't talk back or give orders.