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Abe Knight pulled at the collar of his dress shirt. The stiff fabric had no give. Even with the breeze coming off the water in Reykjavik’s old harbor, he was sure he’d run out of oxygen soon.

Reykjavik’s Harpa Concert Hall rose before him like a gleaming giant. Clad with geometric glass panels, the light split into blue, green and warm amber as the last rays of sun hit the building.

Abe adjusted the comms button in his ear. “Fox. This is Abe. Entering the concert hall.”

“Copy that. I’m above you on the mezzanine.”

As Abe stepped through the entrance, the outside world fell away. The vast atrium stretched up and out, a stunning cathedral of light and space. Several of the halls’ lecture rooms were being used for the conference, but right now the huge foyer buzzed with a throng of networking scientists dressed in elegant evening dresses and crisp black and white tuxes, milling between slick stalls set up to promote Iceland’s geothermal program.

Thom Fox was above him on the upper level. His team mate from Guardsmen Security, looked picture perfect and not at all like he was being throttled by his tux. Hardly surprising. As well as being a former special forces medic, Fox possessed a Dukedom in England. Dude was probably born in one.

Fox turned his back on Abe and melted into the mezzanine crowd.

With a last tug at his neck, Abe headed into the ground floor hubbub, easing between people, his senses on high alert. Investors and scientists had flown here from all over the world, to be wooed for two days to invest in the growing geothermal program and Guardsmen Security had secured the contract to provide on-site protection.

His earpiece buzzed. “How’s the penguin suit?” Fox asked.

“Cutting off circulation to my brain.” Abe scratched his ear. “Remind me again why we’re playing dress-up at a geek convention?”

“Because cybercrime doesn’t sleep, and neither do we.” Fox’s sigh crackled over the comms. “At least it finishes tonight.”

“You just want to get back home to Abbie,” Abe murmured.

“Can’t blame a man.” Fox laughed.

Despite previous harrowing experiences with Raptor, Abbie had emerged stronger and found true happiness with Fox. She’d fallen head over heels for him, and he absolutely adored her.

“Let’s not diss everything.” A muffled protest came from their third team member, Zak Bychkov, over the comms, followed by what sounded suspiciously like crunching. “These mini sausages are essential for peak operator performance. And trust me, I need all the energy I can get for when I see Alina.” His tone shifted to something disturbingly suggestive. “If you know what I mean.”

“For the love of God, Zak.” Fox snorted. “If you don’t stop broadcasting your love life on an open channel, I’m reporting you for misuse of comms equipment.”

Abe muted his mic to muffle his chuckle as he swept the room’s perimeter. Romance had sparked between Alina and Zak during a Guardsmen Security detail, when they’d been assigned to protect her research team.

An uncomfortable sensation swept through Abe’s chest. Most of his team had paired off lately, finding their own slice of happiness.

He was genuinely glad for them—hell, he’d never seen Zak so content or Fox so at peace—but letting someone that close? That was one risk assessment he wasn’t ready to run again.

He refocused, cataloging exits, choke points, and defensible positions. The security cameras created an impressive web of overlapping coverage, but every system had its weak points. And in his line of work, one overlooked detail could cost everything.

The conference had been held to discuss developments in geothermal energy, but the only topic of conversation appeared to be the impending transfer of Raptor’s illegal data cache from the nearby Hellisheidi Power Station to Norway. For the past two days, Abe had been on duty, the scientific rumor mill had been in overdrive. As he wove through the crowd, he was alert for any useful intel amidst the buzz of conversation.

A woman in a jewel-green dress raised her over-plucked eyebrows and sipped pink champagne. “My sister works in logistics. The security they’ve arranged for the data transport to Norway is nothing like anything she’s ever seen. A total headache.”

Abe kept his face neutral, reaching for a tiny stuffed mushroom from a passing tray of canapes as he drifted closer.

The woman’s companion shook his head, his mouth a bloodless slash above his thick neck. “Doesn’t surprise me. That has Freya all over it. I worked with her briefly. Complete nightmare.”

Abe’s hand paused midway to his mouth. Freya . The name had popped up with increasing frequency over the past two days. The mushroom he’d picked up was so small he popped it in his mouth whole and chewed. Hmmm. Weirdly fishy and rubbery. He swallowed and looked around for a drink to take away the fermented fish taste that was permeating his brain and making his tongue curl.

A table was set up with jugs of iced water on the far side of the room. He headed toward the water, past another group, where a harried-looking man was speaking in low, urgent tones. “Allegedly, she measures the distance between lines on graph paper to make sure they’re exactly five millimeters apart.”

“You’re joking.”

“I wish. My cousin worked with her once. Said she’d rather defuse a bomb than deal with that woman’s attention to detail again.”

“Abe. Sitrep?” Fox’s voice sliced through the gossip as Abe poured himself a glass of water.

Abe took thirsty gulps to take away the salty aftertaste, then poured a second glass. He prodded his teeth. His tongue was numb. What the hell was in that mushroom? “Nothing to report other than it sounds like a lucky escape that we didn’t bid to escort the data back to Norway.”

Abe fell into step beside Fox, who’d appeared with a plate of hors d’oeuvres balanced precariously in one hand.

Fox grunted in agreement, his eyes narrowing. “I’m glad to have nothing to do with Raptor for once.” He lifted one of the weird fish-mushrooms from his plate.

“Fox, I wouldn’t eat that if?—”

The mushroom disappeared into Fox’s mouth, making his cheeks bulge. “What?”

“Nothing.” Abe shook his head.

Fox chewed. He swallowed and frowned at the remaining mushrooms on his plate, then blinked and wiped his eyes.

“Water’s over there.” Abe pointed.

Fox nodded and made a beeline for the table.

Abe left him to it and headed to where the air was a little fresher, where open floor to ceiling windows allowed the cool evening air to wash in from the nearby harbor.

Abe took a breath. “Griff must be gutted he’s missing all of this.”

“He’s holed up with Jo in a five-star hotel in Paris for the weekend.” Zak’s voice buzzed on the comms. “ Naked is a better word that springs to mind.”

Abe smiled. Griff was a changed man since he’d met Jo. That had been several months ago, but even now the two couldn’t keep their hands off each other. But there was more to it than that. Around Jo, Griff was a calmer man, as if she soothed some raw part of his soul that no one else had touched.

He glimpsed his team mate Zak’s powerful shoulders as he worked the room. Tall, with a dimpled smile and intense eyes, he easily drew admiring glances from the women he passed. Fox was the same, his silvered beard and muscled frame making the female scientists blush when he drew close.

Except, both of his teammates only had eyes for their women. And while Abe was happy for them, the bonds that locked Fox and Zak to their women seemed foreign and unattainable.

It wasn’t for him. Commitment wasn’t in his DNA. His heart had hardened long ago in Afghanistan when two of his team had died because he’d trusted the wrong person.

Wrong woman.

He drained his glass of water. He’d learned the hard way that he was cut from different cloth. Better to embrace it, to be upfront about his limitations, than leave a trail of broken hearts in his wake.

Occasionally, he wondered if things would ever be different, but reality always got the better of him. It was a small price to pay for a happy, stress-free life.

Movement caught his eye. A waitress in a pearl-white dress approached, her tray laden with champagne flutes. As she drew near, Abe scanned her body, checking for any signs of concealed weapons or devices.

“Drink, sir?” She flashed him a practiced smile.

He waved his empty water glass at her before depositing it on her tray. “Thanks, but I’m sticking to the hard stuff tonight.” He winked, and she giggled as she sashayed away. Abe tracked her retreating form, appreciating the view, but still noting her gait, build, and any identifying features—old SEAL habits died hard.

“Abe, fraternizing with the staff?” Fox’s voice held a note of amusement. “Enjoy it while you can. I’ve got eyes on a potential situation on the dance floor. Two suits who’ve drunk more than’s good for them. Looks like they might need removing before someone breaks a test tube.”

“Moving to neutralize the dancing threat.” Abe headed toward the glitter of a disco ball. “Zak, you’re on over watch.”

Abe loosened his bow tie against the clammy air as he pressed back into the throng. He couldn’t wait to return to Norway. Maybe go climbing with Griff. Feel cold alpine air against his skin. Now that was something to look forward to.

The glitter ball cast fractured light across the room. Backs were turned to him, coalescing around the impending drama of the disagreement. But Abe’s attention snapped to his left. Taking advantage of the distraction, a man was hunched over an unattended computer at a stall, his movements quick.

Amateur hour at the science fair. When will the eggheads learn basic security measures?

A small device glinted as the suspect slipped it into a USB port.

Abe’s jaw clenched. “Fox, we’ve got a situation. Possible data breach at NordSec. Moving to intercept.”

“Copy. En route.”

Abe instinctually found the path of least resistance through the crowd. The cacophony of the party faded to white noise, his focus narrowing to the target.

The man was unremarkable—stocky build, forgettable suit. Purposefully unmemorable. But the tension in his shoulders betrayed him.

As he closed in, Abe morphed his confident stride into an uncertain shuffle. Shoulders hunched, he adopted the bewildered expression of a tech novice. “Excuse me. Is this the new QR7 firewall everyone’s talking about?”

The man’s head snapped up, a blotch of red creeping up his neck. “Wrong stand,” he grated, fingers white-boned on the USB.

Abe edged closer, ramping up the bumbling innocence. “No, I’m pretty sure this is it.” The scent of overpriced cologne wafted from the suspect, mingling with the unmistakable tang of nervous sweat.

The man jerked the USB free.

Abe struck. He clamped his hand onto the man’s wrist, immobilizing him mid-motion. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” His amiable smile never wavered, but he infused a glacial undercurrent into his voice.

The man tried to wrench free, pulse racing under Abe’s grip.

“Easy now.” Abe’s tone was light, as a sea of oblivious chatter and clinking glasses swirled around them.

Fox materialized through the crowd, his eyes sharp. The nod he gave Abe was barely perceptible, honed by years of partnership.

Leaning in close, Abe dropped his voice to a low growl. The acrid smell of fear rolled off the man. “Now, we’re going to go somewhere quiet and have a nice chat about what’s on that little device of yours. And remember,” his grip tightened fractionally, “how rough this gets is entirely up to you.”

Fox grasped the suspect’s other arm, completing the restraint.

“Zak. This is Abe. We’ve got a situation handled. One in custody, attempted data theft.”

Zak’s voice rose above a burst of static. “Copy that. Bring him up to level two, room 27. We’ve got it prepped for questioning.”

“Copy,” Fox replied as they moved the man toward the service elevator.

“There’s more.” Zak cleared his throat.

Hairs rose on the back of Abe’s neck. Bad news incoming.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft, pneumatic hiss.

“Leo’s just been in touch. We’ve got a Raptor situation brewing.”

Fuck.