Page 22 of The Knight

“But my things?—”

Fuck.“Okay.” He took hold of her arm and hustled her into the bedroom. “We don’t have a lot of time. Suitcase?”

She pointed to the wardrobe. “I have a backpack.”

He found the backpack and tossed it on the bed. “Essentials only. Quickly.”

Crossing to the window, he positioned himself just behind the edge of the half-open drapes.

Outside, the land rolled away in dips and swells. Nothing moved but the wind through the trees, yet the cratered landscape offered plenty of places for someone to hide.

Too many.

He turned to check on Freya.

She was zipping up the backpack. A flicker of satisfaction ran through him. Finally, she was listening to him and doing what she was told.

Their eyes met across the room. Her gaze betrayed her doubt. “Abe, where are we going? What’s going to happen now?”

In three swift strides, he crossed the room, stopping beside her. Without hesitation, he placed a hand on her shoulder. The contact blazed through him, and she stiffened under his grip.

“Somewhere safe, but right now, we need to get out of here.”

She nodded, a hint of her earlier strength in the line of her shoulders. “Okay. I’m ready.”

A car engine revved outside.

Shit.That was a short-lived reprieve.

He lifted a corner of one drape.

A black car was parked next to his SUV, a removable strobe on the roof casting a silent wash of blue light.

Plainclothes police?

Two men stepped out, both wearing dark blue caps. Abe’s eyes caught the gold insignia on their upper arms, the text on their breast pockets. Lögreglan. Icelandic police.

But their posture was off—ramrod straight, rigid. Not the relaxed stance of beat cops. They approached Freya’s house with the hyper-vigilant assessment of men expecting trouble.

Shit. Mercs.This had Raptor written all over it.

Their hands hovered too close to their holsters for comfort.

Freya appeared at his shoulder. “It’s the police?” she whispered.

“Don’t believe everything you see.” He yanked her away from the window, gripping her arm and frog-marching her toward the hallway.

A sharp rap echoed through the front door.

Abe halted, his breath puffing in the frigid air of the unheated house.

“Freya Jonsdottir. Open up. This is the police. We need to speak to you about the break in at the power station.”

Freya squeezed his hand. “Itisthe police.”

Abe shook his head, every single SEAL instinct firing on high alert. He had expected Raptor would focus their efforts on the data left at Hellisheidi. Had they already discovered that the laptop required facial recognition?

I should have seen this coming.

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