Page 69 of Cole

"Get her out of here," someone hissed. "Quick and quiet."

They dragged her backward out of the room, and Janice’s limbs felt sluggish as she struggled to suck in air through her nose.

Then they were moving, pulling Janice down the hallway toward the stairs. She tried to dig her heels in, tried to make herself as difficult to move as possible, but they just lifted her partially off the ground and kept going.

Down the stairs. Each step jarring, her feet barely touching the ground. With no jacket, the cold air revived her slightly, but by now they had her firmly in their grasp. She tried to scream against the hand covering her mouth, but the sound came out as nothing more than a muffled whimper. Her strength was fading, her muscles exhausted from the constant struggle against immovable force.

A white pickup with the Northern Summit Resources logo on the side sat idling at the curb. The back door hung open, waiting to swallow her. They shoved her inside and climbed in after her, sandwiching her between them. The man holding her mouth released it finally, but before Janice could draw breath to scream, he pulled out a cloth.

"Don't," she gasped. "Please don't⁠—"

The cloth pressed over her mouth and was tied roughly behind her head, effectively gagging her. The fabric tasted like sweat and tobacco, making her gag.

The truck lurched into motion.

Janice's mind raced, trying to process what was happening, trying to find some way out of this nightmare. She was being kidnapped. Kidnapped. Shit, that only happens in movies or books! She tried to slow her breathing, but because she couldn't breathe through her mouth, it was hard to focus.

As the truck continued down the road, the situation hit her. Taken by men who worked for Northern Summit, who probably worked directly for Charles Penson. Men who knew she'd been documenting their illegal operation. Men who had every reason to make sure she never testified about what she'd seen.

Terror crashed over her in waves, making it even harder to think through the panic squeezing her chest. She forced herself to take slow, deep breaths through her nose in order to calm down enough to think clearly.

The lighthouse pendant. The tracker. Cole would know where she was. LSIMT would know where she was. This wasn't over. She just had to survive long enough for them to find her.

Hold on, she told herself fiercely. Just hold on. Cole is coming. He'll find you. Just hold on.

The man beside her was the one who'd covered her mouth initially. He held her arm in a grip that would leave bruises. His other hand rested on her shoulder, keeping her pinned against the seat.

"Don't try anything stupid," he said quietly. "We're just going to have a conversation with Mr. Penson. Ain’t nothing gonna happen to you."

Janice didn't believe that for a second. She'd seen too many crime shows, read too many news articles about witnesses who disappeared. Penson wasn't going to have a friendly chat and then let her go. He was going to eliminate the threat she represented.

The thought should have terrified her into paralysis. Instead, it kindled something hot and furious in her chest.

No. Not happening. She wasn't going to die in some remote Alaskan wilderness because a corrupt businessman wanted to protect his illegal profits. She wasn't going to let Penson win, wasn't going to let the animals she'd been fighting for die without anyone speaking for them.

She was going to survive this. Somehow, some way, she was going to make it through.

And then she was going to watch Charles Penson go to prison.

The drive seemed to take forever and no time at all. Janice spent it memorizing every turn, every landmark, anything that might help if she managed to escape. But the truth was, she had no idea where she was. The snow-covered landscape all looked the same, and her sense of direction had never been great even under normal circumstances.

Finally, a house came into view, and as much as she hated to, she couldn’t help but admire it. The house was all glass and timber, with a carefully cultivated wilderness aesthetic. It was hard to imagine this beautiful house might become her prison.

31

They marched her through the front entrance, and despite her terror, Janice couldn't help but take in the sheer opulence of Charles Penson's home.

The foyer soared two stories high, with massive timber beams crossing overhead like the ribs of some great wooden creature. A chandelier made from what looked like genuine antlers hung from the center, its lights casting warm shadows across walls of honey-colored wood. To her right, floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the snow-covered wilderness, the mountains rising in the distance like sentinels guarding secrets.

It was beautiful. Stunning, even. The kind of home featured in architectural magazines, the kind of place that spoke of wealth and taste and careful design.

And despite the fear, it made her angry.

All the imported hardwood, the custom stonework on the massive fireplace visible through a doorway, the artwork on the walls, and the expensive leather furniture were all built on illegal mining, poisoned water, dead animals, and corruption that wrecked the delicate ecosystem.

Her shoes left wet tracks on the polished floor as they moved deeper into the house. Janice's mind raced, trying to catalog everything she saw while simultaneously fighting the panic threatening to overwhelm her. Was Cole still here? Had he finished his security assessment and left, or was he somewhere in this massive house, completely unaware that she'd been brought here?

The thought of him being so close, yet unreachable, made her chest ache.