Environmental activists want to use her. Big Oil wants her silenced. The governmentwants her dead. Her estranged daughter just wants to save her life. The fate of the planethangs in the balance.
PRIMITIVEPrologue
Sonya Adams froze. The sight of the cougar left her as rigid as the little girlsitting in the snow. For eternal seconds the triangle of animal, child and woman remainedunmoving.
I don't owe these people anything
, Sonya told herself.
They kidnapped me to get media attention. They may kill me
. Then with no more thought than she’d give to breath itself, Sonya began to inch toward Willow, keeping her eyes on the huge lion, atleast seven feet from its reddish nose to the tip of its twitching tail. Its teeth were bared,its ears pinned back.
My God, it’s going to spring
.The girl started to sob.“Willow, it’s okay,” Sonya said in a deliberately loud voice. “It’s just a big oldcat. Please don’t cry, and I want you to stay really still. Do you know how to play freezetag?” The whole time she talked, Sonya moved closer to her, saw the girl nodding her answer, and said, “Good. I want you to stay frozen right now. That’s really important.”Four more steps and she could stand in front of her. As she eased forward, sheslowly slipped off her bearskin coat, then raised it high above her head, making herself look as large as possible.One more big step and she’d be standing between Willow and the cougar. Butthat’s when her leg post-holed in the snow, all the way to her thigh. She almost toppledover, and felt a stabbing spasm in her lower back when she righted herself.To her horror, the lion’s hind feet pumped, ready to leap. * All over the world, people were riveted to their televisions for another glimpse of kidnapped fashion model Sonya Adams, held captive in what appeared to be a survivalistencampment somewhere in the wilderness of the Pacific Northwest. Passengers for anAmerican Airlines flight from Chicago O’Hare to Miami crowded closer to a screen tilteddown toward the departure lounge.A blue-suited gate attendant announced that boarding was about to begin.“Quiet!” snapped a tall man in a dark overcoat. He and the other passengers had their eyes trained on CNN, which was airing the latest Terra Firma podcast. This one,however, did not feature Sonya.Only a document stamped
Top Secret
filled the screen, as the altered voice of the podcast’s female narrator—an environmental hero or a lunatic terrorist, depending on
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