It felt like they were trying to sneak up on Grand Central station, Bryn thought, when the second chopper came in. They’d heard the first one arrive as they were approaching the rise, but hadn’t been able to see it until it left again.

Bryn had opted not to partner with one of the Kirby brothers. It was easier to be with someone who didn’t know her too well right now. Too many feelings churning in her insides to work under the knowing scrutiny of a Kirby. She needn’t have worried. By the time she finished fighting her way to their present position, she was numb with fatigue and cold. She hadn’t gotten this close to nature since she left the farm. Didn’t help that her pride wouldn’t allow her to let Joe, her partner, outpace her. She needed to work on her competitive instinct. It was going to be the death of her. Despite her good intentions, she’d felt petty satisfaction when she noted that Joe sounded just as winded when they dropped into a crouch behind a boulder on the hillside above the cabin.

It was a peaceful scene that met their gaze. The cabin was postcard perfect as it nestled against the snow-covered, evergreen tree-dotted hillside. The clearing in front of it was a bit big for perfect symmetry, but it was a small nitpick in a scene that was mostly charming. The cabin even had puffy white smoke drifting out the chimney. A few lights showed in the windows. She almost expected Santa and his sleigh to appear over the top of the mountain and land on the roof.

She’d pulled out the GPS, but Dewey still hadn’t turned on his transponder. It had been too long since his meeting. Did the delay mean he hadn’t seen Prudence Knight yet or that he wasn’t able to turn it on? It was hard to feel optimistic. It wasn’t in her nature to see the good side, to believe in a happy outcome for herself. Happy endings were for other people. It was the law of universe. By allowing Dewey into her life, she’d cursed him. If he died in there, it would be her fault.

Joe tugged on her arm then indicated a point a few yards away. He leaned close to whisper, “Kincaid was right. There is a faint heat signature down there. Can you see it?”

Bryn took the binoculars he handed her and studied the hill side. “I see it. You ready?” He nodded. “Right, let’s roll.”

Joe went first. It was his area of expertise. Bryn rose wearily and followed on his six. She wished she knew how the other teams were faring. They’d decided on radio silence, at least until it wasn’t necessary. Donovan had warned them Grady had scanning equipment. They couldn’t afford to risk early detection with such a small group. It felt like she and Joe were alone in the wilderness until the second chopper arrived. They’d dug into the hillside as it swept over the top of them. It turned, a searchlight beaming from the base to light up its landing zone. It seemed to hover for a long time, then unhurriedly dropped into the clearing.

Snow curled up around the spinning blades as two figures jumped out. Their bodies bent, they ran toward the cabin. Bryn had had her glasses on them from the moment the chopper touched down. The first face wasn’t familiar. The second was.

Dewey.

She was, she thought, going to kill him for making her worry like this.