They were at the front door seconds later and found it unlocked. They went inside, through a kitchen to a sparsely furnished family area. There were four wooden chairs, one splattered with blood, and a small round table.

In the bedroom to their left, a mattress burned fiercely, obviously ignited by the scorched kerosene lamp that lay atop what was now a glowing collection of wire springs. A draft was carrying much of the smoke out the window, but enough had drifted into the rest of the cabin to make breathing difficult.

“Go back outside,” Ranger said.

“No way,” she shot back. “He’s in there.” She pointed to the splintered door, pock marked with six bullet holes.

Ranger found the fire extinguisher right where she’d said it would be. “We don’t have much time,” he said, aiming the spray at the flaming mattress. “This won’t hold us for long.”

While he fought to suppress the fire, she ran into the other room.

Hastiin Sani was on the floor, his lifeless eyes open, but unseeing. Her heart broke and tears poured down her face as she knelt beside his body. Although deep in her heart she’d known this might be the outcome, she’d wished so hard for a miracle she hadn’t been prepared to face this reality.

Hearing Ranger in the room, she looked up and saw him crouched beside one of their captors, the one who’d come after her.

“This one’s still breathing,” he said.

The words meant nothing to her. Still kneeling by Hastiin Sani, and ignoring the blood seeping into her clothes, she gazed at the body of her friend and whispered a soft prayer.

“He held his ground and bought me time to get away. He gave his life for mine,” she told Ranger, tears pouring down her face.

She moved her hand over Hastiin Sani’s eyelids, shutting them. Then, taking a shuddering breath, she began to cough. “We’ve got to carry him out of here quickly.”