Snow was turning this trek home into a year's worth of walking.  Mitch Lagoy's bones were one big ache barely holding him together.  He would have suggested they move up onto the ridge over west, where the drifts weren't so deep, but he knew Jacks would only throw one of her tantrums: too high, too visible; where are the trees up there, where's our cover?  The fact she'd be right only made him ache some more.

She'd had them put a spurt on since they'd heard the shots.  Running as best they could in this frozen soup.  Mitch wouldn't dream of complaining, no sir, not with this lady drill sergeant taking the lead.  Emilie Jacks could ##### in your face worse than any storm.

She always said he could scare off bears with his build, but from where he trailed it looked like she was having the easier time of this, and she was carrying a heavier load.  Any lesser find she'd have had him following after her like a pack animal, but not this prize.  No, this one was hers and she was going to be seen bringing it on home, a grand offering to impress Crayford.  Well, he certainly couldn't have been impressed with her body.  Wasn't hardly female, to Mitch's way of thinking.

Muscle and cement, and a face of hard edges.

Nobody had much minded when Crayford had moved the group north.  The government were on their tail and they'd had to go somewhere.  New Hampshire or Arkansas, it made little difference when they were this close to crossing over.  As it turned out, the move to Mount Shaw had brought them manna from heaven.  And they'd all raced out to join the hunt when Crayford had told them to go find the pieces of their destiny.

Mitch wished he saw the truth the way Crayford saw it, wished he had that kind of mind.  But Crayford promised him it wasn't intelligence that qualified when it came to crossing over.  Even some of the government people were intelligent in their own way, he pointed out, but they didn't have the eyes or the soul to see the other realm.

Yeah, it was the way Crayford spoke the truth as much as the way he saw it.

But what in Christ did he ever see in Emilie Jacks?

Lady was a freak.  Sticking her ugly face of stone into the whole operation, taking charge and making like she was the only one ever had military training.  Yeah, kiss my ### and watch it turn into a prince.  If she was so smart and highly trained, how come she'd had them set out with a dribble of gas in the tank?  And how come she hadn't kitted them up with snowshoes for this gig?  Okay, they never had any of that gear at the house - all guns, no skis - but how hard could it be to get some?

Mitch ploughed up some more snow with his huge legs in an effort to close the distance with Jacks.  He didn't like her being so way out in front with the major haul.  He wanted his share of the credit when they rolled in.

Hell, if there was anyone left up there to slap them on the back.

They were pretty close now.  He could tell from the lie of that western slope.  Question was, who'd fired all those shots.  Our guys?  They knew the Army were crawling all over this hill, but Mitch didn't think they'd be nuts enough to get into a shooting match with the military.  Least ways, not while GI Jane was out here with him.

'Slow it up, Lagoy!'