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Gunnar was probably dead. Or he was hurt and dying. Powell tried not to break down completely as she imagined the future without him. Her little Viking baby growing up without his or her daddy, one of the best men Powell had ever known.Powell’s life without…him.

Tears tracked down her cheeks. Her arms wrapped around her stomach. Over where her baby rested. Where Gunnar’s baby rested. She...had to think. Heather hadn't broken down in that warehouse. She'd gotten Powell and herself out of there.Got back to her babies. Powell was going to see to it that her baby, Gunnar’s baby, had a chance to live.

Well, it was Powell's turn now. Her mom, her dad—they were depending on her to get them out too.

Heather was smart. She would have understood Powell was sending her a message. It gave Powell hope, but she wasn't going to wait around for rescue.

She had to think. She was a very smart woman. She had always been. She just had to think. Had to push her fear for Gunnar aside. Gunnar would want her to get out of this, would want her to get their baby to safety. That was what would matter to him.

She was going to remember that. And she was going to get her parents to safety.And the only way she could help Gunnar if he was still alive was by getting out of there herself. And getting to him.

She could only do that if she didn’t panic.

That meant not breaking down now.

Her mom was there. She wrapped her arm around Powell. Trying to protect. Of course she was—because she loved.

Well, Powell loved too. And these bastards weren't going to hurt the ones she loved any more.

She looked at the older man. "What do you all think you are doing? What do you think is going to happen now?"

He just watched her for a moment. There was something about his eyes as he stared at her. They were so familiar. So…human. "We're...going to figure this out. Trey? What happens next?"