The noise from the rotor blades increased as the helicopter lifted above her. It made a turn in the air and set course southward. It lowered its nose, accelerated quickly and disappeared over the sea.

She followed it with her eyes. She stood with her feet together and felt unsure for a moment whether she was warm or freezing.

“Mia,” one of her colleagues called, waving to her. “We’ve found a man.”

“Where?”

“He’s lying not far from the boathouse, on a cliff. It could be the man we’re searching for, Danilo Peña.”

“Is he alive?”

“It doesn’t seem like it.”

* * *

The falling snow glimmered blue and landed like powder in front of her. White and untouched. Behind her, it was colored red. Like a necklace, the blood had left the wound on her neck.

Jana Berzelius went over the cliff toward the forest, knowing that the snow couldn’t conceal her—that at that moment, she was completely visible from the boathouse.

But she had no choice.

Five more yards and the trees would be her shield.

The water that ran from her hair down to her neck had already turned to ice.

She focused on how she would take off her wet clothing as quickly as possible, but then her thoughts became cloudy and she experienced a scary confusion from being so violently freezing cold.

She wasn’t even conscious of the rescue helicopter flying overhead with its flashing lights.

Her boat was still there, softly rocking on the dark waves. She had to summon all of her strength just to get on board.

She tried to open the storage seat, tugging on the padlock that wouldn’t budge. She lifted her foot and kicked one, two, three times, and finally it opened.

Fleece blankets lay inside. Jana stripped down and wrapped the blankets tightly around her body as she looked out over the bay.

Everything was quiet and still.

She started the engine, held her hand on the gas and felt her body being pressed backward by the accelerating force.

* * *

There was blood on his face, his stomach and his throat.

Mia Bolander walked slowly forward and looked at the man lying on the cliff in front of her, all the while holding her weapon aimed at him.

He was lying on his back, his eyes still open, but he didn’t react when she knelt beside him. He didn’t seem to be conscious.

“Can you hear me?” she said one last time.

But his dark eyes didn’t move. They were as black as coal, she thought. When she tried to find his carotid artery with her fingers, she realized that the hunt was over; they’d gotten Danilo Peña. She smiled at the thought.

Her smile disappeared when she suddenly realized that it was important to bring him in alive, that he was the link between the victimized drug mules and the corrupt VIPs.