No Safe Haven

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No Safe Haven Page 26

by Kimberley Woodhouse


  A large figure burst through the door, gun raised. Jenna gasped and moved to shield Andie. The room spun.

  Andie screamed, gripping Jenna's waist.

  Hank stepped in front of Jenna just as the assailant pulled the trigger.

  Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!

  Hank grunted, his arms out, shielding them, taking each of the three muffled shots. A silencer. Marc had taught her enough about guns to understand. This guy would kill them all. And just walk away.

  Thwap! Hank grunted again, staggering back.

  Two more figures flew into the room, tackling the shooter. Bill and Cole. Where was Charles?

  As the three men scuffled at the foot of Andie's bed, Hank groaned and fell back onto Jenna. The warmth of his blood soaked into her thin hospital gown as she lowered him to the floor.

  Andie slid off the bed beside her, cradling Hank's head.

  His weight crushed Jenna into the hard floor.

  Gasping for air, Hank gripped Andie's hand. "I'm so . . . sorry . . . so . . . sorry."

  Jenna cried. For this man who stepped in front of a bullet for her, for Marc, for all the loss that greed had inspired. "I forgive you, Hank." She sobbed.

  Andie put her hands on either side of Hank's face. "You believe in Jesus, don't you, Hank?"

  His body trembled. Blood trickled out of his mouth, but he focused on Andie and nodded.

  "That's all you have to do. It's a free gift for everyone. I know you've heard us talk about it before, He loves you, He died for you. All you have to do is believe."

  "I'm . . . not good . . ." His voice came thin, weak.

  Andie wasn't having any of it. "That doesn't matter. 'Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved.'"

  Hank blinked once, twice, then a small smile lifted his lips—and a raspy breath left his body.

  "Jenna! Andie! Are you okay?" Cole was there, kneeling in front of them.

  Hank lifted a bloody hand to Cole's shirt and grabbed it, pulling Cole's face down. "I'm sorry . . . Cole . . ."

  Cole just stared at him, a harsh look on his face.

  "Find it . . . before Vi—" Blood gurgled up out of Hank's mouth, choking him.

  "Shh, Hank, calm down. It's okay." Jenna tried to soothe him.

  "Not until you . . . find . . ."

  Cole gripped Hank by the shoulders. "Do you know where AMI is?"

  Hank's other hand emerged from his pocket. With one last breath, he thrust something into Cole's hand. "Go . . . the house . . . at the house . . ." He looked at Andie one more time, then went limp.

  Tears streamed down Andie's face as she cradled Hank's head in her hands.

  "Jenna, are you okay?" Cole's voice broke through the moment.

  "Thanks to Hank. We're fine." She wanted to memorize Cole's rugged face, the worry and care etched in it. Even with a bloody nose and what looked to be a busted lip, he looked wonderful.

  Cole opened his hand and looked down. "I'm afraid that's where you're wrong." He trembled slightly as he closed his hand over whatever Hank had given him. "You're in far more danger now than I thought. We just got word that the nurse who was with the girls yesterday has been found dead in her apartment."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  COLE

  Providence Hospital

  Anchorage, Alaska

  9:41 p.m.

  Marc's words washed over him as he fingered the bloody keychain: "Protect with my heart." What on earth was that supposed to mean? How could Marc's heart protect anyone when he was dead? Cole raked his hand through his hair. He was horrible at riddles. Black and white. That's how he liked it.

  Bill rushed into the room, Charles on his heels. "I found him." Bill pointed at Charles. "Shot him with a Taser and tied him up in the restroom."

  "You all right?" Cole stood, wiping the blood off his hands with a hospital blanket.

  "Yes, sir. I'm sorry. He took me by surprise. I tried to get back here."

  Bill patted the other bodyguard on the back. "He was on his knees at the door, trying to open it when I plowed him over."

  A uniformed Anchorage Police officer entered the room. "I need to speak with Mr. Maddox."

  Cole strode over to the man. "I'm Maddox."

  The officer leaned in and lowered his voice. "The shooter is in custody, and we contacted the FBI like Bill asked. Special Agent McAdams will be here shortly."

  "Only one agent?" Cole wanted an army to protect his girls.

  "Agent McAdams will handle the transport of the family back home. The director is already in North Pole awaiting their arrival."

  "And the media?"

  "They're camped outside the hospital. We'll give you all a chance to leave before we hold a press conference. We've got officers at the entrance, in the hallway, and two at the door. That, with your men, should be adequate."

  Cole nodded. If only he were confident that were true. But the biggest threat was still out there.

  The officer continued. "We're arranging for the patients to be moved. This room will have to be taped off. I'll be back in a few minutes." The officer left.

  "Cole?" Jenna pulled herself up, glancing down at Andie who hadn't left Hank's still form. "We need to call Anesia and Dr. Baker."

  He nodded again, pulling out the cell phone.

  "We need clothes. And to get cleaned up." She looked at her daughter again, bottom lip quivering. "I think Andie would do a lot better if Dasha and Zoya were here as well."

  Cole pulled her into his arms. Her body trembled and shivered. She'd been quiet, though covered in another man's blood, for what seemed to be an eternity. What he wouldn't do to erase all the pain and heartache she carried. "I'll make sure you're taken care of. I promise."

  He held her close as he called the doctor and her friend. His words were brief, but they would be here soon. Right now, he needed this time with Jenna.

  She leaned into him, gripping the front of his shirt, and spoke her soft words against his chest. "I heard what Hank said. You need to go, don't you?"

  "No." He squeezed her tight. "No. I need to stay with you. I promised to protect you."

  "But, Cole. What about—"

  He kissed the top of her head. "Don't worry about it. I'll figure it out."

  They stood there for several long moments. He couldn't leave them again. Too much had happened and they were in increasing danger. But who else could figure out where Marc hid the program and prototype? And if he didn't find it, Viper would.

  The turmoil in his gut was almost more than he could bear. It only got worse when a cold realization hit him: North Korea was only the beginning. Viper wouldn't stop with them.

  How many terrorists would he sell it to? How many other countries that were out for American blood . . .

  He balled his fists into Jenna's back as the thought took root.

  "What did he give you?" She pulled back, looking up into his eyes.

  "What?" His thoughts tumbled over one another. Focus. He needed to focus. One problem at a time.

  "Hank. What did he give you?"

  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled the keychain back out. "This."

  She gasped and stumbled back toward the bed. "Where . . . where did he get this?"

  "From me."

  "From you? How did you get it?"

  "Marc gave it to me right before he died. Along with the cryptic message."

  She gently plucked the keychain from his open palm. "I always wondered what happened to it. It wasn't with Marc's things that the police brought us." The blood stains on her hands matched the stains on the keychain as she turned it over and over with her fingers.

  "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it, Jenna. I wanted to, but then I couldn't find it. Thought something happened to it in the c
rash."

  She nodded, not taking her eyes from the object in her hands. "What was the message again?"

  "From Marc?"

  "Yeah, something about his heart?"

  "Protect with my heart."

  "That's it?"

  "Yes." He touched her face with his knuckles. "He asked me to promise to take care of you, and I did. Then he handed me the keychain and said that."

  Jenna's eyes grew round and she covered her mouth with her hand.

  "Jenna? What is it?"

  She sat back down on the bed and grabbed his hand with both of hers. "I know . . ."

  He frowned. "You know . . . ?"

  Her gaze met his. "I know where AMI is."

  * * *

  JENNA

  Providence Hospital

  Anchorage, Alaska

  10:02 p.m.

  Of all the crazy things. Why didn't she think of it before?

  "Where, Jenna? Where is AMI?" Cole gripped her hands.

  She closed her eyes and smiled to herself. It would all be over. Finally. "We have an underground bunker on our property."

  "What makes you so sure AMI is there?"

  She let out a wry laugh and wiped at the tears forming in her eyes. "The symbol on this keychain?" She pointed to it. "It's carved into the wall in the bunker. That's how it all started."

  "How what all started?"

  "Let me back up." She squeezed his hand, not letting go. "When we bought the property and built our home, I asked Marc to build a bunker."

  "Why?"

  "I'm getting to that. Just wait." Jenna blinked back more tears at the memory. "Marc teased me that there weren't tornadoes in Alaska, but I told him we needed to be prepared, in case our country was under attack. I thought for sure they would target our location first because of the missile defense and all the military stationed around us."

  Cole's mouth held a firm line, his eyes full of questions.

  "I know what you're thinking, Cole Maddox." She smacked his arm. "Poor Jenna. Always coming up with worse-case scenarios and trying to be prepared for everything." She shook her head. "Anyway, I don't know why he went along with it—probably because he always gave in to my silly fears and lists. But he had it built. And when it was done, we went down into it and carved this symbol into the wall." She looked again at the two intertwined hearts, one with an M, the other with a J. "For my birthday, he had these keychains made. One for him and one for me."

  Cole just stared at her.

  "Don't you get it? No one else has ever been down in that bunker. Or seen that symbol on the wall."

  "So AMI is down there?"

  "I'm sure of it."

  "If only I knew who Marc contacted at the FBI." Cole rubbed his hand over his face.

  "Cole, you need to go."

  His gaze hardened. "I'm not making that mistake again."

  "You've got to go. We'll be fine." How could she convince this stubborn man?

  "No, I promised to protect you."

  "What good is protecting us if that technology gets in the wrong hands? We're talking about thousands of lives here, Cole. Hundreds of thousands."

  His breath crossed her face as he sighed. "You're not making this easy."

  "Cole, you're just going to have to face the fact that you can't protect me the way God can." She leaned closer to him, staring into his eyes.

  "And if it's my time to go, I'm ready."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  COLE

  April 14

  12:06 a.m.

  The plane bounced around in the turbulent air.

  "Sorry, man." The pilot glanced at him. "The air just doesn't want to smooth out tonight."

  "Don't worry about it. Just get me there as soon as possible." Cole tried to ease the tension in his shoulders and neck, but it was no use.

  "Understood." The man munched on sunflower seeds, spitting out the shells into a foam cup. "Anesia said it was urgent, and I'd do anything for her."

  Anesia had called this guy with Talkeetna Air Taxi. Obviously a longtime friend of hers, the man seemed honest and trustworthy. One phone call from her had the man in a plane in less than twenty minutes, and now they were on the way back to North Pole.

  As they flew over the rugged terrain, he let his thoughts drift to Andie and Jenna. Dr. Baker arrived soon after the shooting and helped them change rooms. Just long enough to get cleaned up. Anesia brought two necessities, Zoya and Dasha, and lent a helping hand getting Jenna and Andie ready to travel. Dr. Baker made sure they had plenty of water and medication for the trip, and said he would rush the discharge papers.

  All the details had been covered. But though he knew the FBI was escorting them home, he couldn't stop worrying. Was he right to take them home so soon? What if they were headed into an ambush?

  Knowing they had Dasha, helped. The beautiful husky was protective of Andie and Jenna, but he couldn't help feeling that he'd left them alone. Anesia and Zoya had started the drive home since his girls would be leaving Anchorage soon. So what bugged him?

  He wasn't there.

  With them.

  Protecting them.

  And if anything happened, he'd never forgive himself.

  Forgive.

  Why did that word hold such power over him? Why couldn't he let go?

  His mind raced back to the chapel. "I can't forgive myself."

  As though she were sitting there next to him, Andie's words when they were on the side of Sultana drifted through his mind: "No matter who we are, or what we've done, God loves each one of us."

  Why? Why would God waste a second on him when all he'd done was blame Him? And didn't he have the right to blame Him? God hadn't saved Amanda and Chloe. He'd never helped Cole before.

  "It's a good thing God doesn't give up on us as easily as we give up on Him."

  The clarity of Andie's words pierced his heart like a knife. He had to admit the truth: he'd never given God a chance. Walled up behind his anger and grief, it was easier to blame Him, to give up on Him. Just like the chaplain at the hospital had said, when things went so horribly wrong, Cole didn't have to think twice about blaming God.

  Amanda believed in God. Believed in Him right up to the moment she died. Talked to Cole about God all the time. But he refused to listen. And now she was gone. Was that God's punishment for his unbelief? Or just a coincidence? A moment in time that proved the sad state of humanity. The loss of someone dear because of the greed and selfishness of another. The crying out of the world for the need of . . .

  A Savior.

  The dark night surrounded him as he gazed out the windshield of the airplane. Stars shone brilliantly, the moon reflected in the snow far below him.

  Hanging in the air, floating, suspended by this flying piece of metal, Cole faced the facts.

  He had faith that this plane would fly.

  He had faith that a chair could hold him when he sat in it.

  He had faith that his legs could carry him across a room when he walked.

  He had faith that the sun would rise and set.

  And yet, he refused faith in a Savior. The Savior. Deep in his heart, he knew the truth. But his pride had gotten in the way. He didn't want to rely on anyone else. He wanted to be self-sufficient. Not answering to anyone.

  But for all his skills, all his strength and determination, he hadn't been able to do the most important thing in his life.

  Save his family.

  And now . . . here he was again. Someone he loved was in danger, and he was doing all he could to protect them. But would that be enough?

  Andie would say no. She'd say nothing we do is ever enough. That God has to do it, or you're lost. That little girl had shown him her faith day in and day out. And he
'd begun to crave what she had. She'd been a brilliant mirror to him. Blinding him with his own reflection, and the needs in his soul.

  Then Jenna struck the final blow: "You can't protect me the way God can . . ."

  All that time. He'd promised to protect them. He thought they needed him. He'd been wrong. He was the one with the need.

  He stared out at the sky. Okay, God. You've got my attention. I'm asking for Your help. I can't do this . . . can't keep them safe on my own. I need You. Your help. Help them, Lord. Help . . . He hesitated, then took the step. Help me.

  Please.

  * * *

  ANDIE

  April 14

  Providence Hospital

  Anchorage, Alaska

  12:24 a.m.

  The door swung open and a tall man stepped in.

  "Mrs. Gray?" His voice held strength and confidence. He was definitely someone who knew what he was doing.

  Mom looked at him, suspicion in her dark eyes. "Yes, that's me. Who are you?"

  I looked over at Dr. Baker. He seemed uncertain, too. Who was this guy? And where were the bodyguards?

  "Special Agent McAdams, ma'am." He lifted his dark glasses. "I'm here to escort you two ladies home."

  The same relief I felt showed on Mom's face. "Oh, thank God."

  "The plane is ready for us. We should get moving."

  Dasha ran over and sniffed the intruder. Special Agent McAdams looked down at her and smiled. "Nice dog."

  Well, if he liked Dasha, he had to be a good guy.

  "Is this all you have?"

  It was funny watching him try and sidestep Dasha. Her nose was almost attached to his leg. She wouldn't leave him alone. As he walked closer to Mom, she followed.

  "Just us, Dasha, and the bodyguards," Mom said with a smile.

  Dasha wagged her tail as if she understood we wouldn't leave without her.

  Again he looked down at my cute puppy. "Should we sedate her for the flight?"

 

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