Colorado Manhunt: Wilderness Chase / Twin Pursuit

Noah needed to do this safely, but also quickly. She needed to get out of this dark, enclosed space and out where she could see daylight.

He prayed again, and held his breath as he listened for noise on the other side of the trapdoor. When he heard nothing for another minute except the distant sound of a small engine, he eased it up. No time to lose. They could have been forced to stay in that cellar for hours, but the sheriff’s department wasn’t coming here. He didn’t know if Amy could handle being down there that long. The situation could get worse in that time, not better.

An inch of sunlight spilled in. He listened again and thought he might have heard Amy whisper, “Please be careful.”

She was scared, but knowing she cared about him helped. It made him a little bit more confident that she wouldn’t put them both at risk. Some witnesses didn’t listen. But the fact was, Witness Security hadn’t lost a protectee who followed their rules. That was why they had them in place.

Noah eased the trapdoor all the way open and laid it down as carefully as he could. If the wood banged the floor someone might come running.

He climbed out and moved to the window, staying out of sight as he looked around. A man climbed behind another onto the back of a snowmobile. They roared off and he realized the one on the back had been the man he’d shot at Amy’s cabin.

Taken away because he needed medical attention, maybe.

So where were the other two?

He moved through the cabin and looked out the other windows. Tried to see where the gunmen had gone. Finally, he spotted them. “There you are.”

Before either could turn and see him through the window, he ducked out of sight again. If he was going to take them out, he needed to do it without using his gun. The noise of a gunshot would carry through the snowy wilderness. Every gunman in the area—and he didn’t figure these four were out here alone—would be drawn to them.

Noah walked to the front door, determined to get this done. He kicked the side table as he went. Two empty drink cans clattered to the floor. A second later, someone yelled outside.

Noah swiped up one of the metal folding chairs that sat around the card table and adjusted his grip. Here goes nothin’. He’d need to swing it hard and fast to take the men down without getting shot.

Footsteps pounded around to the front door. Noah watched the door handle rotate, counting every breath as he braced for what was about to happen.

The first man stepped in. Noah waited a heartbeat and then swung with the chair. It slammed into the man’s face and shoulders. He dropped to the floor.

The momentum took the chair into the door. Noah tried to pull the swing, but it slammed the wood. The impact rushed up his arm.

It wouldn’t be long before the other man stepped in.

Out the corner of his eye, he saw movement. But it wasn’t the other man. It was Amy, coming out of the cellar.

The expression on Noah’s face didn’t mean anything good.

She looked at the man on the floor. “Wow, he—”

Noah’s gun came up. Pointed right at her. “No!”

Arms banded around her and lifted her feet off the ground. Amy tried to scream but the air caught in her throat as this man’s arm pressed against her diaphragm.

“Let her go!” Noah’s voice rang through the cabin.

Her head swam. She kicked with her legs. Tried to hit back at the man holding her. Fresh from a panic attack, she had little in the way of reserves. But the last thing she wanted was to be taken from here.

“Gun down!” The man’s voice was heavily accented. She’d heard that lilt before, but couldn’t be sure if it had been this man specifically.

Where is our money?

Her gaze connected with Noah’s. She could see the intent there in his eyes, plain as if he’d spoken the words out loud. He would die to save her.

Noah’s lips pressed together for a second, and she saw a slight shake of his head. “No way. I’m not lowering my gun.”

Nothing about what he’d said surprised her. He was a federal agent, and he wasn’t about to disarm himself. Especially not with a witness in the room in danger.

The gunman shifted his aim. He laid his forearm on her shoulder, weapon pointed at Noah.

She could try and shove it away.

Noah gave another tiny shift of his head. Didn’t like her idea? Apparently she was broadcasting it on her face and he’d seen it.

Too bad the alternative was that these men shoot each other. And she was between them, just standing here waiting to get hit.

Instead of keeping watch on that take-charge thing he had going, she shut her eyes. Yes, he was the marshal and she was the protected witness. That didn’t mean she had to be helpless, did it?

She heard the gunman’s ragged breathing. Felt the squeeze of his arm, still holding her waist tight.

The weight of his arm rested on her shoulder and tugged it down. She wanted to shake it off. Not helpful. She needed to get out of his grip instead, move away from being between Noah and the target he wanted to hit. She couldn’t turn to the left—he’d just hold on tighter. She needed to spin right. Into the arm holding her.

Amy opened her eyes. She motioned to the right with her gaze, and then she moved. Turned to the inside of his arm. It shifted with his surprise. Amy moved to the side, so the back of her shoulder faced Noah. Body out of the way. She did it fast enough that Noah used those few seconds before the gunman realized what was happening.

A shot cracked through the room. The noise was deafening in the small space.

Amy’s entire body flinched. She shoved the gunman’s arm away, praying she didn’t get shot in the back of the head for her trouble.

He let go. His hand fell away and he hit the floor behind her.

Dead.

Noah grabbed Amy’s hand. “Come on.” He grabbed the gunman’s weapon and tugged her to the door. “We have to get out of here before someone who heard that shot shows up.”

She nodded, hardly able to process everything.

Yes, he’d saved her life. He’d also taken a life. His job. Was it supposed to hit her like this?

“You okay?”

They were at the door now. She nodded, even though tears rolled down her face. Beside the door were snowshoes, stacked upright. “Let’s take these.” They could cut across the snow and make it to the road, avoiding anyone else that might be out there looking for them.

She handed him a pair, not acknowledging the look on his face. She had to push aside emotion and face the next step. The next heartbeat, the next breath. That was all. Just stick with the basics. Keep her head together. Don’t get caught in that undertow, the residual effects of the panic attack causing everything to be so close to the surface.

Noah led the way outside where they put snowshoes on. “If we need to run, can we do it in these?”

“You have to be careful, but you should be able to run.”

“Do you want this gun?”

She looked down at the weapon in his hand, the gunman’s weapon. After a second of debate she took it, hit the button to slide the clip out. It was nearly empty. Because the gunman had shot at her when they’d been back at her cabin? She shoved it back in and pulled back the slide.