The snow fell in thick sheets, swirling like a curtain of white that covered the world. Coldwater Ridge was desolate, isolated, a jagged stretch of mountains that no one visited unless they had no other choice. The weathered roads were now impassable, the deep snowbanks creating walls of white that were nearly impossible to navigate. It was a wilderness that had a way of swallowing people whole.

At least, that’s what Captain Jack Mason thought as he trudged through the snow, his breath clouding in the frigid air. He had walked this ridge many times before—on missions, on recovery ops, on surveillance. But today was different. Today, he wasn’t here as a Navy SEAL, or a soldier of any kind. He was here because he had to be. Because he had heard something, something from deep within the storm.

His dog, Titan, a large German Shepherd with sharp, instinctive senses, had led him to this point. And now, Titan was barking furiously at the whiteout, his head low to the ground, his nostrils flaring.

“What is it, boy?”

Mason’s voice was rough, a harsh whisper against the storm. Titan didn’t answer. Instead, the dog bolted forward, diving into the snow, searching.

Jack followed.

They had been walking for what felt like hours when the first sign of life emerged from the white expanse—a faint, almost imperceptible scent, a trail that Titan had picked up. Jack’s heart skipped. His instincts, honed from years of war and survival, told him something was terribly wrong. He had been on too many recovery missions, too many search-and-rescue operations not to recognize the telltale signs of a disaster in the making.

“Who’s out here?” he muttered under his breath, feeling the weight of his thoughts press on him. The snow was getting deeper, and his mind raced with possibilities.

As they pushed further into the storm, Jack’s mind shifted to the faces he had left behind—his family, his wife, his daughter. The women and children who depended on him, who loved him. His own path was clear: he had chosen this life, the life of a soldier, but it had come with a price. Guilt, loss, and a sense of duty so strong that it seemed to overtake everything else.

But that guilt—that haunting, constant weight—had driven him to make the decision to leave the military after his last mission. He had sought peace, seeking to escape the haunting memories of his past. He had left the SEALs, walked away from the violence and death, to live out his remaining years in relative anonymity. But something deep inside, something from that soldier’s soul, still refused to stay buried.

Then Titan found them.

The sight that greeted him would forever change him. The storm had concealed everything in a suffocating blanket of snow, but when Jack’s eyes landed on the clearing ahead, he froze. The figures were barely visible—three bodies bound together, struggling against the snow, their faces battered, their bodies bruised.

“No… no!” Jack’s heart twisted as he rushed forward. “Who did this?”

Titan’s low growl was the only answer.

He reached them, kneeling beside the unconscious bodies, his hands moving instinctively to check their pulses. His eyes scanned their faces—two women and a girl, barely in her teens. All of them were unconscious, their faces swollen, their bodies frozen in the unforgiving cold.

One of the women—her name was Julia—had a faint pulse, but it was weak. Her body trembled violently, the cold eating away at her.

“Hold on, hold on,” Jack muttered, untying the ropes that bound her. He worked quickly, slipping his jacket off to cover her, trying to keep her warm. He did the same for the other two women—Emma and Sarah—praying they were still alive.

Titan was still on edge, his sharp eyes scanning the perimeter. Something was off.

Jack couldn’t explain why, but a chill crawled down his spine.

“Help is on the way,” Jack said, pulling the women together, his mind calculating. He knew time was running out.

But as he spoke, the wind howled louder, and Titan’s growl deepened. Jack stood quickly, grabbing Titan’s collar.

“What’s going on, boy?” He looked around, his instincts screaming.

A shadow moved in the distance. The dark outline of a man appeared through the snow, walking toward them.

Jack’s hand reached for his sidearm, his instincts immediately going into combat mode. Was it a threat? Was someone else responsible for these women’s injuries?

The figure walked toward him slowly, deliberately. Jack’s finger hovered over the trigger. Titan was growling fiercely now, his muscles tensing, ready to spring into action.

But then the figure spoke.

“Jack… is that you?”

The voice was familiar, deep, and just as cold as the blizzard itself.

“Elliot?” Jack’s voice cracked. He lowered his weapon.

Out of the snowstorm, his former commander and trusted ally, Elliot Sanders, emerged, his eyes narrowed and his face grim. The snow clung to his heavy jacket as if it had been out here far too long.

“What are you doing here?” Jack asked, voice tight. The bond between them had once been solid, built through years of war. But after the last operation—when everything had gone wrong—Jack had distanced himself from everyone, including Elliot. The betrayal had run too deep.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Elliot replied, his tone laced with suspicion.

Jack didn’t trust him. Not anymore. Not after everything that had happened. Not after the secrets Elliot had kept. But right now, he didn’t have time to argue. The women were dying. They needed medical attention—fast.

“They need help,” Jack said, his voice strained, urgent. “We need to get them to a hospital.”

Elliot nodded. He didn’t question Jack. He stepped forward and knelt beside the women, checking for any signs of life.

“They’re in bad shape,” Elliot said. “But they’re alive. We need to move them.”

Jack didn’t wait for Elliot to say anything more. He quickly scooped up one of the women—Sarah—and placed her across his back. Titan moved beside him, offering silent protection.

“This way,” Jack called out, moving toward the makeshift camp where he had set up a temporary shelter just hours before.

But something wasn’t right. As he walked, he felt a weight pulling at him. It was as if the snow was trying to hold him down, to bury him alive. His thoughts were clouded. Was he imagining it, or was there a presence lurking in the storm?

Suddenly, the snow seemed to part before him.

A rifle barrel gleamed in the dim light. Jack froze.

“Drop the woman,” a voice shouted. “Drop her now.”

Jack’s heart thundered in his chest. This wasn’t just a rescue anymore. This was a fight for survival.

“What the hell is going on?” Jack hissed, his voice low, commanding. “Who are you?”

A second figure emerged from the blizzard—a man in military-grade gear, the unmistakable logo of a government contractor visible on his chest. “You shouldn’t be here,” the man said coldly. “You’re too late.”

“Too late for what?” Jack spat. His hand was already on his sidearm, but he knew he wasn’t fast enough.

A shot rang out, splitting the silence of the storm.

Titan lunged forward, biting down on the man’s arm, but before he could do more damage, a second figure appeared from behind the snowbank, slamming into Jack. The two men collided violently, crashing to the ground.

Everything happened in a blur—punches, kicks, the sound of gunfire ringing through the snow as the fight escalated.

But then, as Jack struggled beneath the weight of his attacker, he saw the truth—their enemies weren’t just mercenaries. They were something worse.

The men had been following them, waiting for the moment to strike. They knew what had happened on that mountain. And they had come to finish the job.

Jack gritted his teeth, shoving the man off him, scrambling to his feet. “Elliot!”

But before he could say another word, a third shot echoed through the night.

A cold, dark truth seeped into Jack’s veins.

Elliot, his former commander, was lying on the snow, his body still.

And the storm raged on.