"Change of plan because of the circumstances." Buckling up in the seat beside Nash, Doug expertly slipped on the headset, adjusted his mouthpiece. "We've got to move now."

"Roger that," Nash said. "All right back there?"

"All set." Emily knew her way inside a chopper. She was buckled and connected. Her eyes drawn to the bloodstained seats. "You've got blood all over back here," she shouted.

The rotors gathering momentum. Nash activated the intercom. "Transported one of the nurses from the Mercy Force crash. Didn't have time to clean up. Sorry."

"You were at the site?" Doug said. "How bad was it?"

"Everyone will make it, but it was chilling inside. You probably heard that the con had cuffed them before he escaped. Hey, I just heard on the radio it was the death row guy? That true?"

Doug swallowed, nodding behind his dark glasses and cap.

"Christ," said Nash, radioing his call letters, hesitating. "You've got the coordinates? It was all broken up on my radio."

"Which coordinates?" Doug said.

"Where the Mountie sighted the girl?"

"You mean the footprint?"

"I mean the girl. The lost Baker girl. Just a few minutes ago, it came across all broken up. The Mountie spotted her alive. That's where we're headed, right?"

Doug and Emily were speechless.

"Right." Doug thought quickly. "You are supposed to take us to the general area. We'll get the coordinates on the way."

"OK. If you say so. I think it's near the crash site. Where Hood is running around. I know they got people after him." Nash called in his flight path and increased the throttle. "Here we go."

The Huey rattled; the ground began dropping beneath them.

Emily's knuckles whitened as she clasped her hands tightly, tears rushing down her cheeks from under her dark glasses.

Mommy and Daddy are coming, sweetheart.

Doug reached back, his hand finding Emily's, squeezing it as they gained speed.

Strange, Nash thought. Never saw FBI agents holding hands on duty.

"Hey, you guys like CCR?"

EIGHTY.

It was her.

Paige Baker. Yes. And her dog. A beagle. A glimpse through his binoculars. One, maybe two kilometers off before they vanished into a thick spruce forest. He had to locate her again.

RCMP Sergeant Greg Garner continued radioing reports but knew his signal was weak from the valley. No response. If there was, he did not receive it.

"Let's go, pal."

Garner and Sultan were now about half a mile south of the Montana-Alberta border. He put an eighteen-foot-long line on the German shepherd, which had locked onto the girl's scent. Garner knew it was a good, strong track. Sultan was panting, excited, pulling hard, moving so fast he had to slow it down after slipping in a few places.

"Hold on there, big guy. I'm no good to you with a twisted ankle."

Garner's exhaustion melted. Having spotted the Baker girl energized him.

Against all odds, she was alive. He saw her.

If he could just get to her, or get a chopper to her.

So close but so far.

Good. They were climbing now. Good.

It was clear to Garner the girl went this way, but ascending the rocky slope made things difficult. At the top of the next significant rise, he would stop to use his powerful field scope. The radio should transmit better, too. They attacked the climb, practically clawing up at double time.

"Oh boy." Garner huffed at the top several minutes later, perching himself near a rock upon which he could steady his telescope. He drank some water to help his breathing normalize so he could look calmly through the eyepiece.

Sultan yelped impatiently.

"I know. Me too.

A moment passed. Garner squinted through his scope, sweeping the slopes across the vast alpine valley to the area where he expected the girl to be.

Sultan sat, ears pricked, panting.

"Relax, relax. We'll find her," Garner sounded like a surgeon probing slowly, confidently. A minute passed. Nothing but forest, rock, forest, rock. A deer. Forest, rock, forest, rock--what, a flash of color!

"Hold it!"

Blue? Large. A man?

"What the--"

A blue jumpsuit. A man. Cap. Sunglasses. Looked like a SAR guy. A ranger maybe. Then a small dog, the beagle. Come on. There! She was with him, walking slowly. It was her! Walking. Alive. Thank God. But who was that with her? No chopper nearby. Nothing. SAR ground people must have her. We're done then. Relieved.

"Looks like she's safe, buddy."

But wait. Better confirm. They should get a chopper out here. Actually, he'd like to hear the status. Garner pulled out his map, detailing his coordinates, then reached for his radio.

"Garner to base."

"That's better Greg," his radio said. "Must be on high ground now because you are loud and clear. What do you have for us?"

"I'm going to tell you exactly where Paige Baker is."

EIGHTY-ONE.

Saved.

Paige watched the man in blue. Her savior.

She was not dreaming. The bear was real. Its blood still warm on her shirt. The stench lingering.

It was real. But she was alive. Saved.

Paige wept with joy, fear, exhaustion.

"Drink this." The man passed her a canteen. They were under the shade of lodgepole pine, resting on an oasis of soft grass. He had given her water, some pieces of vegetables and fruit. Paige had never known such thirst or hunger. She shared some with Kobee and sobbed quietly while chewing. She could not stop shivering from the cold. The man searched his pack, pulling out a large clean T-shirt, fixing it on her, tying its waist. It warmed her. The blood bled through, but she didn't care. She was saved.

His radio was bleating. As Hood expected, it didn't take long.

"Sounds like a helicopter is on its way," he said. "There's a place it can land just over the ridge. A flat patch near a ledge."

She nodded. She just wanted to see her parents, to go home to San Francisco, to her room, her bed. Never be scared again.

Paige looked at him.

"Everyone's been looking for you," he said.

She sniffed, pulling Kobee to her. She was so sorry she had run off. Sorry that her parents argued. She could not stop trembling.

"You are safe now," he said. "Nothing will harm you now."

"How--" her voice was weak. "How did you know where to find me?"

The sunglasses stared at her.

"I just knew, Paige. I just knew."

Like I know this part of the world, its secrets and promises.

"Ready to go wait for the helicopter? Think you can make it a little farther?"

She nodded. It was a short, easy walk to the small, flat table that reached to a cliffside. Hood heard the helicopters first. Far off, approaching fast.

If I time it just right, they will all learn what I am capable of.

"Can you hear that?" he said.

Paige heard nothing.

"Helicopters. They're coming. They'll be here soon."

They stood there waiting.

Butterflies darted by, stirring his memories. He walked to the cliff's edge. Standing there, gazing down the rock face to the bottom, some four hundred feet below, he turned at the cliff and extended his arms.

"This is where I live."

Paige was exhausted. Puzzled. Not certain she understood him.

"But I have no friends," he said. "Will you be my friend?"

Paige blinked. Thinking. Trying to comprehend, she nodded slowly.

"Come closer. I'd like to show you something."

She heard the helicopters. Kobee barked.

"I like it over here. The cliffs make me a little nervous."

Kobee continued barking a warning.

"Please," Hood raised his voice. "You'll never guess what I'm going to do."

"Look, the helicopters are getting closer!" Paige began waving. "Over here! Over here! Over here!"

"Please, Paige, you said you were my friend. Come over here."

She saw no harm. He had saved her. Cautiously, she neared him.

"Want to play a game?"

She stretched to gaze down, shaking her head.

"Let's play a game."

A game? Paige tried to understand. This is weird.

"I don't think so."