Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the TV series, Criminal Minds.

Angel

Part 10

By
N. J. Borba

Derek's fists were clinched at his sides while circling the conference room table like a shark stalking its prey. The expansive Richmond police headquarters felt claustrophobic to him, and thinking about Emily and her daughter as victims was driving him crazy. The fear he felt for both of them, coupled with his current inability to do a damn thing about it, finally caused him to punch the nearest hard surface. His knuckles broke through a layer of paint, texture and gypsum board that rattled the wall.

"Are you okay?"

Morgan turned to face the boy. He'd gotten so caught up in his thoughts that he'd completely forgotten about Declan being in the room. The poor kid was huddled in the corner on an uncomfortable looking sofa. His faithful dog lay on the floor at his feet, given special permission to be inside the police station. "I'm sorry, kid," Derek apologized.

"I don't think Richmond PD is going to appreciate your redecorating style," Hotch said from the open door.

With an unapologetic shrug, Derek faced the team leader. "I'll pay for it."

Hotch let the issue drop and entered the room. "What happened?"

Derek flexed his sore fingers, eyes aimed on Declan again. "Emily is missing."

"That much I know," Hotch replied. There'd been a brief call from Garcia which had spurred his trip to Richmond. "How did he get to her?"

"I didn't even hear a vehicle," Morgan replied stoically. He felt a little bad rehashing it all in front of Declan, but he wanted the boy close. "It took me all of two minutes, tops, to get Declan to the SUV. That's when we saw the dog run around to the front of the house. I wanted to go investigate, but I had Declan to think about. He'd called 911 from the pantry just before we got there. They were on scene about three minutes after we left Emily," he explained. "I should've gone after her when I spotted the dog, but I knew she would have been pissed if I let Declan out of my sight."

"Leaving Declan alone, even in a locked vehicle, would've been the kind of opportunity Doyle could've taken advantage of," Hotch pointed out. "I hate the thought of her in Doyle's clutches, but Emily is much better suited do dealing with him than Declan would've been. You did the right thing, Morgan," he assured him.

"Yeah?" Derek's head shook, not believing it. "Then why do I feel like I'm never gonna see her again?" Morgan took a breath, doing his best to keep moving forward. There was nothing he could change about what happened. And from the look on Hotch's face, Derek had a good feeling the team leader knew he and Emily had become more than just colleagues. He really didn't need the man pulling him off the case due to a personal conflict of interest. "How's Reid?" he changed the subject, although generally worried about his friend.

Hotch nodded toward the main precinct chamber that was visible beyond the conference room windows. "Why don't you ask him yourself," he suggested just as Reid and Rossi entered the small room. "Couldn't get him to rest in a cell?" Hotch asked of Dave.

Rossi grinned, "Not even close." Dave looked to Reid. "You must be on some good pain killers," he remarked.

"No," the younger man shook his head, though it hurt to do so. "It's just a mild concussion and hairline fractures to three of my ribs. I don't need and pain killers." Spencer knew even aspirin held the possibility of sparking his addiction. "What do we know about where Doyle took Emily and Angie?

"Nothing," Morgan replied. He kind of hated how defeatist his tone sounded, especially after harping on Emily about the same thing earlier.

"Actually, Garcia found a van that was purchased with cash on a lot in Baltimore last night," Hotch informed the excitable agent. "The guy saw Doyle's picture on the news and called in. He said Doyle used the name Ian Reynolds."

"Reynolds was Emily's alias in Italy," Derek recalled. "Did Garcia get a plate?"

"Victor, Charlie, Tango, one, three, one, two," Rossi recited from memory. "It's been out on the streets for over an hour now."

Hotch added, a little more optimistically, "All the airports on the Eastern seaboard have been closed due to the snow storm. The roads are pretty horrible, too. And I doubt he'll stray far if he believes Declan is still nearby."

There was a brief knock at the open door and the three men turned to face a dark-haired woman in uniform. "Detective's report of the murder and abduction scene," she informed them, holding a folder out. Dave took it and thanked the woman.

"Two sets of footprints in the snow headed to the back alley," Rossi skimmed the notes. "And tire tracks, large tread, most likely from an SUV or van."

"Which tells us nothing more than we already knew," Derek sighed. "Did they even follow the tracks?"

Dave nodded. "Until they came to a busy intersection where they lost them," he noted with regret, closed the folder and tossed the file onto the table. "I'm with Hotch on this one. Doyle will keep close. He'll be contacting us soon about the boy. He'll want to arrange a trade."

"Except now he has two hostages," Morgan needlessly pointed out. "And he really only needs one to negotiate Declan's release."

xxx

Angie tried not to tense up as Doyle held her close, his weapon shoved beneath her chin. She kept her eyes focused on Emily as the older woman struggled to stand. Angie had only really witnessed Emily in a position of control before. Seeing her so vulnerable now made Angie wonder what it must have been like for her, at the tender age of fifteen, to make such an impossible decision. "I'm okay," Angie whispered.

"How touching," Doyle sneered.

"We've barely had a chance to know one another," Angie directed her words toward the man. "You can use us to get your son back, but you don't need to kill us. That's not going to make you happy. Revenge only makes a person feel good for a short time. The high will fade."

Without him seeing, Emily used the wall at her back to pull herself into a standing position. She was pretty damn proud of the girl's distraction techniques but feared it wouldn't work on Ian for very long. Emily caught Angie's eye again and nodded. The girl, thankful he'd never removed her shoes, stomped down on Doyle's instep as hard as she could. And Emily lunged for him. She caught Doyle's right side with her shoulder, which sent his gun skittering across the floor.

Emily went after the gun as Angie delivered a roundhouse kick to Doyle's right kidney, reinforcing the damage Emily had already done. He doubled over for a moment, but was back up again in another second. His fist aimed for Angie's mid-section, but the girl blocked him and brought her leg all the way up to connect with his jaw. He was momentarily stunned, but the kick turned his head just enough to spot Emily inching toward his gun.

"Not so fast," Ian grabbed Emily by the ankles and managed to grasp the weapon before she could. He kicked her in the stomach and spun around to aim the gun on Angie. "Move," he motioned for the girl to join Emily in the corner. "You're certainly as feisty as your mother," Doyle said in an almost admiring manner as he wiped blood from his split lip. "It really is a shame the two of you aren't on my side. You could be useful allies."

"Never," Angie spat.

The door opened a crack and a man in a black cap stepped in to the room. "Is there a problem in here?" he asked, speaking with a deeper Irish brogue than Ian.

"Just a little fun, Liam," Doyle grinned.

Noticing his friend's injuries, the older man frowned. "I told you they'd be trouble," he chided. "I've tracked the boy to the downtown police department," he announced, his eyes staring at Emily with distain. "The other members of that one's team have arrived. I imagine they'll keep a close watch on the boy. We'll never get in and out of there without notice."

Doyle smiled as he grabbed Angie by the arm. "Then I think it's time we play our hand," he said, pushing the girl out the door and in to Liam's brutish grip.

Emily, legs still tightly bound and stomach aching, hopped across the small space. "Ian," she caught his attention before he could walk away. The man stood in the doorway and regarded her with a contradictive look of disgust and longing. "If you hurt her in any way, I will destroy you," she growled.

His expression turned smug. "You'll never get close enough again, love."

The door swung shut with a heavy metal clang, plunging Emily in to nearly complete darkness again. This time by herself.

xxx

Derek grabbed two sandwiches from a tray on the table and walked to where Declan was still curled up with his canine friend. "Turkey or ham?" Morgan offered. The boy looked up at him with tired blue eyes, but he said nothing. "Come on, kid," Derek sighed, remembering how closed off he'd become after his father's death. "I know what you're going through. And it's not gonna be okay for a long time, but you should at least eat or sleep right now."

The boy remained quiet so Derek tried another approach. He unwrapped the ham sandwich and broke off a small piece. Derek held it out toward the dog and Maggie jumped up. She snatched the treat from Derek's hand. Declan smiled a little and took the rest of the sandwich. "Thank you." He alternated between taking a bite and giving Maggie more to eat. Derek stood, squeezed the boy's shoulder, and went back to the table.

Morgan sat down across from Spencer. "You should eat or rest, too," he insisted.

Reid took a turkey sandwich, but let it sit in front of him. "They both lied to me."

It didn't take Derek long to realize what his friend was referring to. "Yeah, they did," Morgan replied as he sipped lukewarm coffee. "It was nothing personal against you, kid. Emily had a lot of trouble processing it all. And as far as Angie goes, I've never met the girl, but I imagine she just wanted to please Emily. Even if it meant lying about it to you, to all of us." He shrugged and pushed his coffee away. "Isn't that what most kids want, to please their parents?"

"I still can't believe Emily's her mom," Spencer took a small bite of his sandwich.

A smile finally found its way to Derek's lips. "I think Emily's the most surprised by that fact, and she gave birth to Angie."

The door opened. Hotch and Rossi rushed into the room with resolute expressions in place. A detective followed them with a laptop which he quickly sat down on the table. "Garcia received a message from Doyle. He wants to Skype us," Hotch explained. "She's setting up the call and will connect it to us here."

"Can she trace it?" Morgan inquired.

Penelope's imagine popped up on the screen. JJ stood next to her in the tech lair. "You didn't really just ask that, did you?" she winked. "Ready?"

Hotch nodded. "Let's do this."

Seconds later, Morgan tensed as he spotted Doyle's face starring back from the screen. He'd only seen him in pictures, but the man looked to be a formidable foe. The camera panned over to reveal another person he'd only ever seen in pictures before. Angie was seated beside Doyle, hands cuffed and mouth gaged. Derek wanted to reach through the laptop screen and strangle Doyle with his bare hands for ever thinking to harm Emily's daughter.

"Angie?" Reid gasped.

"Don't worry," Doyle spoke. "She's fine. For now. Where's my boy?" he demanded.

Morgan turned to Declan. He had no idea what the boy knew about Doyle, and he hated exposing the child to him, but it was necessary. They needed to lull Doyle into believing they'd negotiate a trade. Derek motioned the child over. He placed a hand against the boy's back and led him to the laptop's web camera view. "Where's Emily?" Morgan asked.

Doyle focused on his son. "Do you remember me?"

Declan nodded, a bit unsure. "I think so," he spoke softly. "There was a big house with a nanny and… Emily played hide and seek with me."

"Where is Emily?" Derek asked again.

"She's not important anymore," Doyle dismissed. "I'll trade Angela for my boy. In two hours I'll call with the location."

The Skype call ended. "Garcia, what did you get?" Hotch asked.

Her head shook while typing. "He somehow routed his connection via satellite through several servers in Europe. In just those few minutes it bounced from Germany to France, Spain and finally to Italy. But I did manage to get the last IP address. It belongs to a man named Jeremy Wolff."

"I know that name from the list Interpol gave me," JJ jumped in. "He was a member of Emily's team, the one sent to gather Intel on Doyle."

Hotch sighed. "JJ, relay that information to Interpol." He looked to Garcia. "Does this mean Doyle's call was untraceable on our end?"

"As much as it pains me to admit," Penelope looked crushed.

The team leader gave her a quick nod of thanks before she signed off. Hotch was about to give orders when the police chief entered the room unannounced. "We have a patrol out on Nelson Road that claims they've found the van you're looking for. It's at an abandoned warehouse. They've indicated movement inside."

"Have your officers been made?" Morgan inquired.

"They don't think so," the chief replied. "Do you want them to go in or stay put?"

"Tell them to keep their distance until we get there," Hotch made the call. "And arrange for a SWAT team to meet us," he instructed. "Reid, you'll stay here with the boy. We won't even need to put him in harm's way if we can stop Doyle now."

Declan rushed to Morgan and grabbed his arm. "Don't go," he begged. "I'm scared."

Derek knew the child had probably transferred his trust from Emily to him due to proximity. "I have to help Emily, okay? But I have a very important job for you. I need you and Maggie to look after agent Reid," Derek pointed to Spencer. "He has a concussion. If he gets sleepy or passes out, you need to tell someone. Can you do that?"

"Okay," the boy agreed.

Spencer got to his feet, protesting, "I can help."

"You'll stay in this room if you know what's good for you," Morgan countered. "I don't need to worry about anyone else getting hurt."

Nothing more was said as Derek followed Hotch and Rossi out of the room.

xxx

Angie's cuffed hands stopped her from colliding with the wall as Doyle tossed her back in to the dark room. The door slammed shut. "Are you all right?" Emily asked. Her eyes had grown used to the dark enough to watch the girl slide down the wall and sit on the floor beside her. Their shoulders touched.

"Guess I'm kind of hard to get rid of, huh?" Angie asked.

"I'm glad," Emily whispered, sensing something wasn't quite right.

Tears pooled in Angie's eyes. "I'm really not as strong as I pretend to be," she revealed.

Emily would have given anything to have free hands at that moment so she could properly console the girl. "It's okay to be scared."

"Are you disappointed that I didn't fight harder earlier?" Angie sniffed.

"No, of course not," Emily insisted. "I was actually impressed by those moves of yours."

The girl smiled through her tears. "I told you I took Karate lessons. Only made it to a green belt, though."

"That's impressive," Emily nodded. She pressed her shoulder a little closer to the girl's. "I'm not disappointed in you, Angie. And if anyone knows the meaning of that word, it'd be me. I could make a long list of people I've disappointed, staring with my parents, Matthew and John, Derek, Declan, you…" she sighed, "Oh, and my Russian tutor when I was eleven."

Angie smiled again, lifting her bound hands to wipe away the remaining tears from her cheek. "You speak Russian?" she was intrigued despite the dismal situation. It kept her mind off worrying about her dad and Spencer. And it seemed a better alternative than harping on Emily about how she'd just stepped into self-pity mode again.

"Not very well," Emily replied. "Hence the disappointed tutor. We lived in the Ukraine for about fifteen months."

"And in Rome, too," Angie said. "You must speak Italian?"

"Fluently," Emily confirmed. "And French, Spanish, Arabic… I also know a few phrases in Portuguese, German, Chinese and Japanese."

The younger woman was impressed. "I certainly didn't inherit that from you, because I struggled through two years of high school Spanish," Angie revealed. "I was always a lot better at history, math and science." She turned to face Emily, enjoying their conversation regardless of the setting. "So, did you live in China and Japan, too?"

"No," Emily bit her lip as she spoke. "I just made a few diplomatic excursions there with my parents."

"I'm jealous," Angie's eyes lit with a wistful glaze. "The farthest I've been from Baltimore was a trip to Mount Rushmore one summer with my dad. And we drove."

Emily continued to speak through gritted teeth. "You're twenty-three years old and you've never been on a plane?"

"Sad but true," the girl nodded.

Shifting her position a little, Emily kept their conversation rolling, wondering how she ever thought she'd be able to completely walk out of Angie's life. "Reid… uh, Spencer… told me you decided to stay in school this semester rather than travel."

"My dad decided." Angie shrugged. "Don't get me wrong, I love school. I love the law. I do want to be a lawyer, but it just seems like that's all there is for him. He doesn't understand that I want to do more, see more. Live a little before I get bogged down with a career."

"Funny," Emily actually chuckled. "Growing up, all I ever wanted was to stay in one place. You got that kind of life, but now you can't wait to go out and see the world."

Angie's nose wrinkled a little. "You don't like to travel?"

"I travel a lot for my job."

That response was contemplated for a moment, but it didn't slow Angie down. "Does that mean you don't want to show me Paris and the Eiffel Tower, or Rome and the Coliseum?"

"You wouldn't want me tagging along on those adventures," Emily dismissed.

"I just asked you," Angie countered.

With closed eyes, Emily grimaced through the last of the pain that she'd been trying to keep from the girl. She pulled both arms around to her front, left hand free from the handcuff that had previously shackled it. "Let me see your hands," she ordered.

"How did you…" Angie stared at Emily's wrist. "You're bleeding."

"I was actually glad when I realized Ian had cuffed my hands rather than tied them. A dislocated thumb is a small price to pay for freedom," she noted.

"Eew," Angie grimaced.

Emily smiled. "You just Karate chopped an international terrorist, but a dislocated thumb makes you squeamish?"

Angie shuddered. "There's a reason I'm studying law and not medicine."

"You have a hair pin, don't you?" Emily asked, realizing she was wasting time. "I thought I saw… there," she removed the item from Angie's hair without even asking. "Sorry about your dinner plans with Reid and your dad. I bet your hair looked lovely before all this," Emily said as she worked on Angie's lock. The cuffs sprang open in a matter of seconds.

The younger woman's brows arched. "How did you learn to pick a lock?"

"That's not something you need to know," Emily replied as she went to work on the duct tape around her ankles, which finally gave way after she used the sharp metal edge of her cuffs. "Here," she placed Angie's cuffs around the girl's wrists again. "You need to make it look like they're still on," Emily instructed. She watched the girl nod and Emily's heart constricted. "You know your father loves you, right? Despite this whole school versus travel issue."

With a slow nod, Angie eyed Emily with concern. "Why are you telling me this?"

"After he lost your mother you were all he had," Emily explained. "He became over protective." Scott had never said as much, but she'd profiled it out of him. "But he only did it because he loved you so much, and he wanted to keep you safe," she bit her lip to keep her emotions in check. Angie continued to stare at her with curious eyes. "I love you, too," Emily whispered, "Which is why you have to run the next time Ian comes."

"No," Angie protested. "I won't leave you alone."

"You've been outside this room more than once, you stand a better chance of finding an exit quickly," Emily calmly said. "I'll be Doyle's hostage until the team arrives with Declan. They'll never let the boy go, which means they'll have Doyle trapped. He won't get away. But I need you to leave first, okay? I can't do my job if I'm worried about you."

Angie wasn't as good at schooling her emotions. Her voice quaked as she spoke, "I'll do what you ask, but you have to promise you'll make it out," she said as a tear slid down her cheek. "We have to spend Christmas together with my dad and Spencer, Derek and your parents."

Emily's eyes rolled. "Who raised you, Mary Poppins?" she chuckled, finally leaning in to hug her daughter for the first time. She did so with trepidation until Angie latched on tightly.

A noise outside the door caused them to break off the union prematurely. Angie wiped her face with the sleeve of her sweater while Emily grabbed her cuffs and situated her hands so they were behind her back again. The girl did likewise. "You didn't promise," Angie whispered.

With a smile, Emily nodded. "I promise," she said, "At least the part about making it out of here. You're on your own with that Christmas gathering."

Doyle stood in the milky stream of light from the open door for a moment before he advanced toward Angie. Emily wasted no time using her legs to sweep his. He toppled and she sprang to her feet, hands out in front. "Well, well…" Doyle scoffed as he slowly got to his feet. "Aren't you the resourceful one," he jeered, reaching for the weapon at his back. "I should've just killed you back at the house earlier."

"But you couldn't do that, could you Ian?" Emily taunted, "Because you still have feelings for me."

"Only in your dreams, love," his head shook.

She smiled. "My dreams have nothing to do with you, except for the part where I stand by your grave."

"Not gonna happen, love," he confidently replied, raising the gun. "Seems fitting I kill you here in a warehouse since you staged my son's death in a similar setting. I also have the added advantage of having your precious daughter watch…" his voice trailed off as he turned to see the girl was gone. "Where the hell did she…" again his words were cut off, this time by Emily's fist connecting with his already injured jaw.

The blow barely bothered him, though, as his foot struck her in the stomach once more. Emily hit the wall and fell to her knees. He grabbed the cuffs and fastened one about her left wrist again. But, as he crouched down beside her, she kicked him in the balls. "How did that feel?" she snarled, reaching for his weapon.

Gunfire in the distance caused Emily to become distracted for a second. It was just enough time for Doyle to slap the other cuff around her right wrist. "That, my dear…" Ian hissed as he yanked her through the door. "Is the sound of your poor daughter being gunned down by Liam," he intoned. "But don't worry; you'll be joining her just as soon as I get my boy."

For the first time in ages, Emily remained confident. She had to believe Angie was okay as Ian dragged her toward a set of stairs.

xxx

Derek led the way, moving quickly through the sparsely lit warehouse. The dark-haired female officer from the precinct stuck close to his side, but it wasn't the same as having Emily at his back. They stopped behind a massive concrete column after hearing footsteps approach; quick footfalls which sounded like running. Morgan spotted the figure and stepped out of the shadows, aiming his weapon. "Don't move," he instructed, grabbing hold of the person's waist.

"Let me go!" Angie exclaimed, drawing her knee up in preparation to strike.

"Hey, whoa," Derek could see exactly where her knee was headed and his boys were not amused. "I'm not gonna hurt you," he said, letting his hold on her slack. He turned her. "You're Angie, aren't you?" The girl's whole body remained posed to strike. "I need you to calm down. You're safe now," he tried to assure her. "I'm agent Morgan, FBI."

"You're Derek," she finally took a shaky breath. "I saw a picture of you and the rest of your team at Spencer's place."

He smiled, waving his left hand for the female officer to come closer. "This isn't how I imagined our first meeting would go," Derek released her completely.

Angie panted, taking several more deep breaths to calm down. "You just showed up to rescue me so I'd say this one is going pretty darn well. But it'd be a whole lot better if we stop talking and you find Emily," she suggested. "She's still in the building somewhere with that creep."

"Okay, but I need you to go with this officer," Derek instructed. He looked the uniformed woman in the eye. "Take her outside and don't let her out of your sight."

"Understood, sir," the woman nodded and guided Angie away.

His heart slowed just a little to know half the battle was over. "Angie's exiting with Officer Keller," he reported through comms. "I'm headed…" Morgan heard gunfire and raced toward it. He hadn't gone far, though, when he heard movement overhead. His eyes aimed upward and spotted a metal staircase. Shadows moved and steps clanged dully. But it was the sound of a door opening that finally caused Derek to climb the stairs.

"Doyle's partner is dead. East and west quadrants are clear," Hotch reported through the link.

"North is also secure," Rossi chimed in. "No sign of Doyle."

Derek pounded up the stairs. "I think he's taking Emily to the roof," he informed. "I'm in pursuit." The stairs only went up three flights and Derek was at the door in less than a minute. He slowly pushed it open and led with his weapon. Derek looked left and then right in quick succession. Left held a bank of ventilation units. Right was open roof. Derek hadn't realized how old the building was until he looked straight ahead and found several brick smoke stacks in a row.

Light from the rising sun gave him a decent view of the area. The smoke stacks were the only possible hiding place on the roof. Derek advanced upon them. Seconds later a gunshot zinged by his ear. He bolted for the nearest stack and took cover. "We have this whole building secure, Doyle!" his voice echoed across the frigid morning air.

"Where's my boy?" Doyle's accented tones responded.

Morgan turned left toward the direction of the voice. "He'll be here soon," Derek lied. He darted out and sprang to the next smoke stack over. "Why don't you show me that Emily is safe so we can make the trade when Declan gets here?"

"Come a little closer, agent Morgan," Doyle replied.

Having Doyle know his name didn't leave Derek filled with confidence. He stepped out of the safety zone and moved through the fallen snow toward the other side of the roof. Derek promptly spotted them, Emily on her knees with Doyle's gun pointed at her forehead. He inched closer, completely exposed. "Emily?" Morgan called out. "You okay?"

"Oh, yeah… great," she exaggerated. "Where's Angie?"

"She's safe."

"Then what are you waiting for, an engraved invitation to shoot the bastard?"

He could imagine the impatient look on her face and it made him grin. "Figured you'd want that pleasure," Derek replied.

"Kind of in a bind here," Emily called back, waiting and watching Doyle. His concentration was on Morgan, seeing him as the bigger threat at the moment. "Besides, I don't need the big glory moments to boost my ego like I know you and Ian do," she continued.

Doyle chuckled. "Seems she's found someone new to fall for her tricks," he deduced from the undertones of their banter. "How sweet."

Emily picked that moment to make her move, hoping Doyle was sufficiently distracted by the conversation. She sprung forward and shoved him toward the parapet wall. Doyle lost his balance and groped for the wall with one hand, the other hand losing its grip a little on his gun. Emily squatted and pushed against his feet in the hopes of helping him the rest of the way over. But the sound of gunfire resounded in her ears, and darkness threatened to take hold of her again.

"No!" Derek found a clear shot and fired. He watched Doyle clutch his chest as the impact finally finished the job Emily had started, sending Doyle backwards over the wall.

Morgan raced toward Emily and knelt beside her. "Hey," he spoke gently, even though he was scared out of his mind by what he saw. The left side of her face was completely drenched in blood. He couldn't pinpoint the source of her wound, but her right eye was still open and he felt a weak pulse at her neck. "You're gonna be okay," Derek insisted.

He heard footsteps behind him sloshing through the snow. Hotch's voice radioed for paramedics. Rossi's voice confirmed Doyle was dead. Derek focused solely on Emily, watching as her lips moved but no sound emitted. "Don't try to talk," he discouraged, removing his vest and jacket. Derek placed them over her in hopes of keeping her warm. "Just stay with me," he gripped her cuffed hands. When her right eye slid shut he squeezed her hands even tighter.

"Please," Morgan begged as snow began to fall again. "Hold on."

To be continued…