His hands gripped the binoculars, trembling as he focused on Alex.

The superhero A-man was trying to catch him again.

Both Jim and Thomas weren’t speaking to Alex. Jim had walked away and joined Thomas in the plane after Alex had admitted he wasn’t a marshal. Now he felt like he’d let Jim down. Alex picked up a handful of snow, packed it into a ball, and hurled it at the plane’s tail. It wasn’t like he’d deceived Jim personally. And what did it matter? After they left these woods, he’d never see Jim again. Wasn’t like they were gonna meet up for beers afterward.

He needed to focus on his objective. Alex packed another snowball, then crushed it between his fingers, letting the pieces fall. Things around him were cluttering his concentration.

The team had come to a compromise. Everyone was staying until morning and then they’d reassess. No one was hiking out that day. They made plans to move Linus’s body to the cockpit of the plane with the pilots and then they’d sleep in the larger piece of plane. Thomas suggested building a snow wall to close the open end of the plane. Should be warmer than tents, and the plane’s seats were more comfortable to sleep on than the frozen ground. The plan had sounded good to Alex. Maybe Ryan and Thomas wouldn’t snore so much if they slept upright. After helping Thomas and Jim move Linus, Alex headed up the hill to help Brynn move Ryan and his gear down to the plane.

Why hadn’t Jim told Thomas yet that he wasn’t a marshal?

Not a marshal. The words still hurt.

Alex had loved his job and had known he did it well. He’d spent several years on the judicial security branch of the service, protecting federal judges and securing federal courthouses. When he’d needed a change he’d gone to prisoner services, moving prisoners between institutions, some clear across the country, and deporting others back to their country of residence. He’d spent a lot of time on little planes just like the one sitting in pieces on the snow. He’d missed the judicial security work, where his supervisor hadn’t been an incompetent ass like Paul Whittenhall.

If it hadn’t been for Whittenhall, he’d probably still have a job.

Alex breathed hard as he worked his way up the hill. One thing about being in the marshals was that he couldn’t afford to let his physical condition slide. Daily workouts were a part of the job to keep prepared for any situation that might arise. Now he was lucky if he made it to his gym once a week. He sucked in the icy air.

Promise number one to self. Restart daily workouts.

Actually it was promise number two. The first was no more chemical dependency.

Like he could forget. His shaking hands and upset stomach reminded him every hour. He’d had no idea that his body had been so used to the tranquilizers. It wasn’t like he walked around in a drugged-out daze every day. He just took a few milligrams each night to help him sleep and keep away the nightmares. Sometimes a shot or two of whiskey to relax in the evening. He would have never believed he was addicted until his body started telling him yesterday. Looked like part of this trip was becoming a blessing in disguise. Intervention and treatment at the same time.

Alex still had a couple of hundred feet before he reached Ryan and Brynn. Hopefully, the tension at the top of the slope would be lighter than at the bottom. He could relax around Ryan and Brynn. He pushed his legs a little harder. He wanted to see the sparkle in Brynn’s brown eyes and hear her laugh. Another promise started to enter his mind, but he pushed it away, shaking his head. He wasn’t ready for a woman in his life. Although Brynn was definitely the type he would look for second time around. Alex couldn’t keep his eyes off her whenever she was near. Something about her pulled him to her, drew him in. Several times he’d wanted to simply touch her, feel her hair.

Instead, he’d crammed his hands in his coat pockets and felt like a kid in high school.

Alex could faintly see the outline of her and Ryan up the hill. He blinked. It was like looking through a steamy bathroom. The snowfall was so fine and light it was like mist. Was it time to tell Brynn and Ryan the truth too? No doubt Jim would tell them pretty soon. Alex would rather they heard it from his own mouth. Was it so bad pretending to still be a marshal? To make sure a killer was dead?

Wasn’t like Alex was hurting anyone on the team. So far the only one who’d been hurt was him. Sliding down that mud had reinjured his knee. If not for the constant doses of ibuprofen it would be killing him, slowing down him and the team. His headache was being kept at bay, but he could feel it pressuring the gate. What he wouldn’t give for a quick shot of good whiskey.

No more. That’s past. That’s over.

The nights he couldn’t sleep he’d pored over the casebooks from Besand’s murders, making copious notes. The detectives on each case hated him for his constant pestering. He’d stopped phoning them once he’d realized they wouldn’t answer when they saw his number on the caller ID. He’d switched to e-mail and tried to keep the number of those to a minimum.

He’d told Brynn he created computer games and security software. Truthfully, Alex had been blocked for three months. His mind wouldn’t cooperate when he sat down to work, and he hadn’t sold a new game in a year. At least the money from his last three games was more than enough to see him through his retirement.

A far off wump-wump sound entered his consciousness, and Alex scanned the hazy sky. He’d bet his last dose of ibuprofen that was a helicopter. But in this weather? With no visibility? It couldn’t be. The trees were keeping the team out of most of the wind, but above that it was whipping real good. How could anyone fly?