Haywood's vehicle sits abandoned at the Lost Creek trailhead in the foothills outside Anchorage, driver's door still open like he ran. Fresh tracks lead north into the backcountry. Snow's melted enough to leave boot prints in the mud, deep impressions where he's carrying weight. His stride is panicked, no attempt to cover his trail.
He's making this easy.
I kneel beside the clearest print, check the depth. He's carrying at least forty pounds. A bug-out bag, maybe supplies for a few days if he's got someone meeting him. But Haywood's FBI brass, not wilderness trained. He'll make mistakes.
"How far ahead?" Sela asks behind me.
I glance back at her. She's standing beside my truck in tactical pants and a fleece jacket Cara loaned her, hair pulled back, eyes determined. She brought her med kit. Smart move.
"Hours ahead, maybe more." I stand, brush mud off my hands. "He's moving fast but sloppy. Trail's easy to follow."
"Then let's go."
"No." I pull my rifle from the truck bed, start checking gear. "You're staying with Finn and Calder. They're setting up a perimeter on the access roads in case he circles back."
"Like hell I am."
I look at her. She's got that expression I've learned means she's not backing down. Same look she had when she volunteered to be bait.
"Haywood's armed and desperate," I say. "He's got nothing to lose. This isn't an observation room with one-way glass between you and the danger."
"You think I don't know that?" She moves toward me. "Emma's evidence came to me. Haywood tried to have me killed. I've earned the right to see this through."
"This isn't about earning rights. It's about keeping you alive."
"Then keep me alive." Her voice drops. "But I'm not sitting on the sidelines while you go after him alone."
Finn's watching from his truck, smart enough not to get involved. Calder's on the phone with DOJ, coordinating the perimeter and calling in a tactical team from Anchorage. Neither of them is going to back me up on this.
"How long until your team arrives?" I ask Calder when she gets off the phone.
"Two hours minimum. They need to gear up for backcountry pursuit." She looks at the trail, then back at me. "You're not waiting, are you?"
"Trail's fresh. Every minute we wait, Haywood gets farther ahead or closer to extraction." I check my rifle. "I'll track him, keep him contained until your team catches up. Radio in his position when I find him."
"And if he's armed and desperate when you catch him?"
"Then I'll handle it."
She doesn't look happy about it, but she nods. "Keep comms open. My team will follow your track." She looks at Finn. "You stay here. When my team arrives, you lead them in. You know this terrain better than anyone."
Finn nods. "I'll get them to you."
I could order Sela to stay, trying to pull rank and telling her it’s official.
But she'd find a way to follow anyway. Better to have her where I can protect her.
"You stay behind me," I say. "You do exactly what I tell you, when I tell you. No arguments, no improvising."
"Agreed."
I grab a second tactical vest from my gear bag, help her into it. Adjust the straps, make sure the plates sit right. My hands linger on her shoulders longer than necessary.
"Haywood's not coming back alive if he points a weapon at you," I say quietly.
She holds my gaze. She knows what I'm promising.
"Then let's make sure it doesn't come to that."
