hair under a military-style cap and a prominent purplish scar that split his chin.
As ugly as that guy is, he’s gotta be in some law enforcement database .
Knowing she’d done all she could, she rolled to her side and found a pair of eyes shining back at her, reflecting the firelight. Nikko panted silently, his tongue lolling. She ran a hand from the crown of his head to his flank. His muscles trembled with adrenaline, ready to run, but she had to ask more of him.
She reached and secured the strap of her cell phone’s case to his leather collar, then cupped his muzzle, meeting that determined gaze.
“Nikko, stay. Hold.”
Reinforcing her command, she held a palm toward him, then clenched a fist.
“Stay and hold,” she repeated.
He stopped panting, and a small whine escaped.
“I know, but you have to stay here.”
She gave him a reassuring rub along both cheeks. He leaned hard into her palm, as if asking her not to go.
Be my big brave boy. One more time, okay?
She let go of his face. His head drooped sullenly, his chin settling between his paws. Still, his eyes never left hers. He had been her companion since she first started out as a ranger. She had been fresh out of school, while he had just finished his own search-and-rescue training. They had grown together, both professionally and personally, becoming partners and friends. He was also there when her mother had died of breast cancer two and a half years ago.
She shied away from the memory of that long, brutal battle. It had devastated her father, leaving him a faded shell of his former self, lost in grief and survivor’s guilt. The death had become a gulf that neither could seem to bridge. Jenna had also secretly had a BCRA gene test performed, an analysis that confirmed she carried one of the two inherited genetic markers that indicate a heightened risk of breast cancer. Even now she hadn’t fully come to terms with that information, nor shared the results with her father.
Instead, she dove headlong into her job, finding solace in the raw beauty of the wilderness, discovering peace in the turning of the seasons, that endless cycle of death and rebirth. But also she found a de facto family in her fellow rangers, in the simple camaraderie of like-minded souls. Most of all, though, she found Nikko.
He whined again softly, as if knowing what she must do.
She leaned close and touched her nose to his.
Love you, too, buddy .
A part of her desperately wanted to stay with him, but she had watched her mother bravely face the inevitable. Now it was her turn.
With her record of events secure and hidden with Nikko, she knew what she had to do. She gave Nikko a final rub, then rolled out from beneath the tractor. She needed to lead the others as far away from the husky’s hiding place as possible. She doubted whoever hunted her knew about her service dog or would even worry about him if they did. The endgame of the hunters here was to eliminate any witnesses who could talk. Once that was accomplished, the assault team should leave. Hopefully after that, someone would come looking for her—and find Nikko and the evidence she had left behind.
It was all she could do.
That, and give her hunters a good chase.
She set off at a low sprint, aiming away from the flames toward the darkest section of the hilltop. She made it fifty yards—then a shout rose to her left, a triumphant bawl of a hunter who had spotted their prey.
She ran faster with one last thought burning brightly.
Good-bye, my buddy .
8:35 P . M .
Dr. Kendall Hess jolted at the staccato retorts of rifle fire. He sat straighter in his seat, straining his shoulders as he struggled to see out the helicopter’s side window. The plastic ties that bound his wrists behind him cut painfully into his skin.
What was happening?
He struggled through a foggy drug haze. Ketamine and Valium , he guessed, though he couldn’t be sure what sedative had been shot into his thigh after he was captured at the