Page 74 of The Knight

He no longer had eyes on Freya.

Fuck.

“Moving to extract—” Abe’s voice cracked.Freya. I’m coming. The rapid fire beat of his heart left him breathless as he pushed forward, every second without her driving him closer to the edge. Bodies cannoned into him as hysteria escalated, fueled by the choking haze.

His gun was low, muscle memory keeping his finger off the trigger, but his hands shook with scarcely contained violence, ready to eliminate anything that stood between him and Freya.

“Leo, Zak. Where the hell are you?”

Dead comms mocked him with silence.

He rammed through the crush, no longer caring about finesse. Freya might be hurt. Bile burned in his throat.

The crowd surged, a trapped, panicking mass.

Sprinklers erupted, ice-cold water striking him like needles.

The fire alarm’s wail drilled into his skull, and he wanted to shoot the damn thing just to make it stop.

Panic mushroomed.

“Jesus Christ,” he growled, grabbing a fallen woman before she was trampled on the treacherous floor. He hauled two more people to safety, his training warring with his desperation to keep moving. Every second spent helping someone was a second Freya slipped further away. But he couldn’t let people die.

He fought through the barrage of fleeing guests, his soaked clothes dragging at him. He swiped water from his eyes, scared of missing a glimpse of Freya’s hair, the red dress she’d worn tonight. His stomach was a knot of razor wire, tightening with each passing moment.

Fox materialized at his side, his familiar presence offering no comfort against the fear ripping through his chest. “Comms are dead. What the fuck happened?”

“EMP burst.” Abe’s voice was raw as he jerked his chin toward the lifeless security cameras. “Everything’s down. I can’t find her, Fox.”

“MI6 detail?” Fox’s words were razor sharp.

“No contact. Leo and Kat are dark too.”

“Just us then.” Muscle bunched in Fox’s jaw.

Abe halted, water sheeting over him. All he could see was Freya’s face, her smile as she came down the stairs only a few hours ago. “I promised her, Fox,” he whispered, the words lost in the cacophony. “I promised I’d keep her safe.”

The crowd suddenly split, giving him a clear line of sight across the ballroom.

Korolov.

His security detail moved with expert precision, using the frightened guests as mobile cover as they hustled him to an exit. A flash of crimson taunted him.

Freya.

He charged forward, bulldozing the crowd. As a SEAL, he should maintain discipline, call for backup, coordinate, but hisfeelings for Freya screamed at him to move faster. Damn the consequences.

Bodies bounced off him, his world narrowing to the distance between him and Korolov.

He staggered out of the ballroom, his breath ragged. On the far wall, a fire escape door swung shut. He sprinted toward it, lunging just in time to catch the handle before it sealed. With a grunt, he shoved it open, the metal slamming against the outside wall as he bolted into the night. Rain pelted his face, blurring his vision. Industrial dumpsters created a canyon of yellow metal and shadows in a narrow alley.

Left clear. Right?—

Tail lights bloomed in the darkness, blood-red against the rain.

“No!” The word tore from his throat. His legs burned as he sprinted toward the vanishing lights.

His earpiece crackled to life, a tsunami of voices rupturing the silence.

---