I started to protest—no one was drugging my dog!—but Mom beat me to it.
"No, she'll be fine. She's a good traveler." Mom gave a firm nod as if the matter was settled.
Special Agent McAdams nodded. "Let's get going."
Dr. Baker helped me get the air cast on my foot as Mom searched for the jacket Auntie had brought when she gave us a change of clothes.
"If that's all, then let's go." Special Agent McAdams moved to hold the door of our room for us. FBI and a gentleman. Cool.
Mom glanced around as we walked into the hallway. "Where are Bill and Charles? Our bodyguards?"
Good question. I looked around too. I didn't see them anywhere.
"They're already at the airport. But with your dog, we'll only have room for one of the men."
"Oh."
Only one? I frowned. We can squish together . . .
———
We arrived at a small landing strip in the middle of nowhere and hopped out of the Special Agent's car. This plane was smaller than our Beaver.
Remembering those scary moments when our plane crashed made me shudder. I did not want that to happen again. God protect us, God protect us, God protect us.
I was glad to see Bill, one of our bodyguards, there. He climbed in before us, then gave the okay.
Special Agent McAdams sat in the front, getting things ready.
My stomach was all tied up in knots, and shivers raced up and down my spine as we buckled up. I really didn't want to fly again.
Bill sat in the front with Special Agent McAdams, who started the plane. Before I knew it—or wanted to—we were rolling down the runway.
God protect us, God protect us, God protect us.
I really didn't want to crash.
But even if we did, it couldn't be as bad as last time, could it? We wouldn't be on the side of a mountain, and there would be no ice patches to worry about, no avalanches to avoid, no bad guys chasing us . . .
Oh, wait. There would still be bad guys. Would there always be bad guys?
The plane lifted up into the air and I gripped the sides of my seat. Don't look, just don't look.
Mom grabbed my hand and squeezed. Hard.
"It will take awhile to get back to your house, so you might as well get some rest." Bill peeked at us over his shoulder and nodded as if saying, "I'll keep my eye on things."
I hadn't even thought about what time it was, or noticed the darkness, for that matter. Glancing out the window, I saw black clouds hovering near the moon. I put my fingers to the small circle-ish glass and the freezing coldness shot up my hand. I hoped our house would be warm when we got home.
Well, at least my kind of warm.
I couldn't wait to get home and go to sleep on my nice, squishy waterbed. The doctors had said to get a waterbed three years before because they knew it would help control my temp while I sleep. It was so comfortable.
And squishy.
Food would be a blessing too.
I couldn't wait to have Mom cook a homemade breakfast again. Omelets and crepes and pancakes. Which one would we have first?
I turned to ask, but she'd already fallen asleep. The infection and all the stuff from last night had done a number on her.
Dasha's head nestled on my lap. She was almost asleep too.
No one to ask what they wanted for breakfast tomorrow.
Harsh.
I leaned my head against Mom's shoulder and sighed. Maybe I could get a little sleep. If I could stop thinking about crashes.
And blizzards.
And gun shots.
And blood.
Special Agent McAdams looked back at us, and I pretended I'd fallen asleep. Once I heard him turn back around, I peeked my eyes open. I didn't feel like talking, but since I couldn't sleep, I might as well make sure he didn't do anything cocky. Like shoot the radio.
The special agent kept one hand on the yoke and used the other to pull off his FBI jacket. He couldn't be getting cold, not with the air conditioner so high. What was he doing?
A seam ripped as he tugged at the jacket.
Oh. No wonder he was taking it off. He could barely get it over his huge arms. That was funny. What was an FBI agent doing with a jacket that didn't even fit him?
I wanted to rush up front and help him so that he wouldn't let go of the yoke and make us plummet toward the earth, but he finally got it off. Underneath he wore a plain, white, short-sleeve shirt with a shoulder holster and gun. His arms were like Cole's, with solid muscles and—
I gasped.
It can't be!
I grabbed my cell phone from the pocket of my jacket. We weren't supposed to use phones on airplanes, but I didn't care. Peeking through my eyelashes, I clicked on Cole's name as the special agent put on a heavier jacket. I tried to press the buttons without making them click.
Once I finished typing a text, I sent the message over and over again, praying it would go through.
Cole HELP! Special agent guy has same tattoo as u, Hank, & Dad!
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
JENNA
April 14
North Pole, Alaska
Tikanni-Gray property along the Chena River
3:47 a.m.
The wheels of the plane had barely stopped when their FBI escort jumped out and pointed a gun at Bill—
Thwap!
Bill slumped onto the seat. Jenna threw her hand over her mouth as Andie gripped her arm tighter.
"Get out of the plane." Agent McAdams held the door open with one hand. In the other was a Glock elongated with a silencer—aimed at her chest.
Jenna shielded her daughter with her own body. Lord, help us!
Who was this man? They'd been so close. To home. To safety.
She'd thought it was all over. But she was wrong. This man would probably kill them in their own home.
Dasha growled.
"You're not the FBI, are you?" Andie grilled from behind her.
Brave little Andie.
"No, I'm not." The man's deep chuckle sent chills up Jenna's spine. "How'd you ever guess that?"
"Your eyes." Andie shrank back. "And your tattoo."
"So you know about the tattoo, huh? Somebody must've been faking sleep during the flight." He moved closer, his cold gaze piercing Jenna. "Games are over. Get out of the plane. Now."
Jenna slid off the seat, hands clutching Andie behind her. Dasha growled again and moved forward.
He pointed the gun at Dasha's head.
"No!" Andie lunged from behind her, almost knocking Jenna off her feet. "Hike, Dasha! Hike!"
Dasha jumped out of the plane and took off running. There'd be no stopping her now.
For a moment the man tracked Dasha with his gun, then brought it back to bear on Jenna. "Would you like to tell me where our friend Mr. Maddox is?"
"He left the hospital before we did."
"Ah, so he's here, isn't he?" The man smirked.
"I . . . I don't know." That was true. She didn't know where Cole was at that moment.
"That's all right. I look forward to seeing him again." He winked at her. "Which I'm sure will be soon."
"Don't you dare hurt him!" Andie shouted at the dark stranger.
He halted in his tracks and turned his full attention on her daughter, leaning down so his face was only inches from hers. "Only if he gets in my way." His sneer made Jenna shiver all the way down to her toes.
Jenna pulled Andie away from him.
But Andie stared him down.
Straightening to his full height, he laid the gun on Jenna's shoulder, eyes focused on Andie. "Now. Let's go find AMI, shall we?"
* * *
ANDIE
3:50 a.m.
Watch out, on r way 2 bunkR, Bad guy with us, shot Bill on plane.
I pretended to cower behind Mom as he glared at me over his shoulder. "What's wrong, little girl, scared?"
I pushed my cell deep into my jacket pocket, praying Cole got the text in time.
As we trekked across our property, I wondered what it would feel like to get shot. Would I feel it? Would it be painful? Would I bleed to death or just conk my head and die . . .
Would the bad guys get what they wanted?
How many other people would die?
* * *
JENNA
3:53 a.m.
A hundred yards had never felt so far away. Her leg ached. And her heart ached.
As they walked to the bunker, memories rushed in. She could almost see Marc there anxious to show it to her. Pride and delight evident in his eyes . . .
The twelve-inch thick, solid steel door was visible between the two trees that marked the bunker's entrance. The turf covering had been thrown to the side. Someone was already here. God, if it's Cole, please give him a warning that we're coming . . .
The fake agent jerked the door open—and Cole was there! He spun, but McAdams was ready for him. He slammed the gun into Cole's left temple, and their protector slumped to the floor.
Cole!
Her heart felt like it stopped. Andie turned, burying her face in Jenna's chest. "Oh, Andie, I'm sure he's okay." She hoped her whispered words were true.
The dark man waved his gun at them. "Get over here. Or you're next."
Each step down into the bunker made her leg send piercing pain signals to her brain. A panel in the wall caught her attention. She'd never seen that before. The panel was open under the carving of their initials. Inside were a computer screen and keyboard.
What are those for?
That awful man jerked them further into the bunker, and Jenna stifled a scream with a hand to her mouth. Another body lay in the corner.
Peter!
"Let's focus, shall we?"
Andie straightened her shoulders, but sidled closer to Jenna's side as her attention snapped back to McAdams.
He turned to them, eyes steely. "How about you tell me the password."
Andie glared at him. "What's the matter, aren't you smart enough to figure it out?"
"Andie, hush!" Jenna couldn't let her daughter antagonize this man. Who knew what he would do to her. But Andie just crossed her arms.
Those glacial eyes glared at them. "I'd watch my words if I were you, little girl."
"I don't know, you seem to have a big enough mouth for both of us."
Jenna jerked Andie by the collar and pulled her outspoken daughter behind her. "That's enough, young lady."
A slow, wicked smile slithered across the man's face. He looked down at Cole . . . and kicked him in the stomach.
Jenna and Andie yelled at the same time. "Stop that!"
He sneered at them, then pointed the gun at Cole's head. "I can do much worse than that, so I suggest you do as I say."
Jenna's stomach turned. This man would kill them all.
* * *
ANDIE
3:59 a.m.
Ooo! I wanted to hurt him bad. How dare you! But what could I do to a man who had a gun? Pray that God would strike him down with lightning?
Sounded good.
Love your enemies.
Where did that voice come from? How could I love the bad guy who hurt Cole, held us hostage, and probably killed my dad?
Feel sorry for? Yes!
Love?
No.
"What are the codes?" He was talking to Mom, but kept his creepy gaze on me. He wouldn't hurt Mom, would he?
Mom pulled me behind her. Again. "We don't know."
I gave him another angry look over Mom's shoulder. I really wanted to stick my tongue out at him too.
Better not.
"Oh, really. I have a hard time believing you. Now tell me the codes"— he held the gun up again, and this time it was pointing right between my eyes—"or I'll shoot your daughter." He inclined his head. "It's your choice."
* * *
COLE
4:01 a.m.
Cole listened to Viper threaten Jenna and Andie. The throbbing in his head awakened him, but he didn't open his eyes. Yet. Best to let Viper think he was still out cold.
A short beep echoed in the bunker. Must be Viper's phone. He listened as Viper spoke.
"Is that it?" A pause. "Nothing else?"
Time ticked by with the beat of his heart.
"I'll check the house again. I haven't finished setting the charges anyway."
Charges? Great. Viper was going to blow the house and who knows what else.
"Just make sure everything is ready. I'm confident I'll have it soon."
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?"
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