No Safe Haven by Kimberley Woodhouse Page A

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.
    The end result would be worth it. And nothing would get in his way.
    Nothing.
----
    JENNA
    April 7
    Sultana, Denali National Park
    2:03 p.m.
    Fingers of fear crawled their way across Jenna's back. She pushed the swell of claustrophobia back down her throat. She just needed to see Andie.
    Pawing her way through the snow, Jenna finally opened a hole to see the small area where Cole and Andie lay. Only a few feet separated them. Relief swept over her. Once again, her daughter was safe. She could almost reach out and touch her.
    Thanks to that infuriating man.
    Snow continued to pour from above. He'd been right. Again. Had they climbed down like she'd suggested, they would be buried right now. Lord, thank You for saving me from my own foolishness.
    She attempted to free her legs, but with the snow still tumbling