Joe!” Frank shouted. “Dive for cover!” Frank watched as his brother took a step toward Neal to pull him to safety. Joe stopped, grabbed at his leg, then stumbled and fell to his knees. He’d been hit! The two parachutists released their chutes expertly as they swooped in to land. One ran over and pulled the agents clear from the snowmobiles. The other grabbed Neal. Frank wasn’t about to let them get away—guns or not. With a wild yell, he rushed out from behind the tree, head lowered. He felt a projectile whiz past his ear. He dove for the gunman, his hands reaching for the barrel of the rifle. Pain shot through the back of his skull. Frank collapsed in the snow. He had to get up. He made it to one knee. Everything was spinning. He thought he might throw up. Frank shook his head to clear the cobwebs. By the time his vision cleared, the two kidnappers had Neal and were roaring off on the snowmobiles. He looked around. Everyone else was down. Only Joe moved at all. He was trying to sit up but kept falling back.
