Next, we went to a house in Riga owned by the CIA, where bundles of clothes and weapons were waiting for us. The clothes were military fatigues: white, to blend in with the snow. Mine were way too big for me. Gabriel, who’d arranged all the gear, winced. “Sorry. That was the smallest size they had.”

“Gimme a minute,” muttered Colton, and disappeared with my clothes. Fifteen minutes later, they fit.

Gabriel stared at the big, bearded brute. “You can sew?”

Colton shrugged. “Didn’t have a whole lot of money growing up. Everything I had was hand-me-downs. Got pretty good at making stuff fit.”

Then it was time to go to the airfield. As we climbed into the helicopter, Danny looked around at the peeling paint and oil stains. “Bloody hell, how old is this thing?”

“Old.” said Gina from the cockpit, frowning at the Cyrillic labels on the controls. “What matters is, it’s the same type they use to ferry staff to the prison so it won’t arouse suspicion. Just don’t expect it to be fast.”

It was a long flight to Siberia. The helicopter was dark, noisy and very, very cold but despite that, most of the team dozed off. I realized that to them, this was all normal. As we neared the prison, people started to wake up and check their weapons. Bradan sat there sharpening a knife. That’s when it started to feel real, and the panic came back. What am I doing here? This was all a mistake. I’m not a soldier! I didn’t have a gun, or even a knife. I had a tool roll.

A warm hand covered mine. I looked up to see Danny leaning over to me from across the aisle. You’ll be fine, he mouthed over the noise of the helicopter.

I nodded, but the panic didn’t ease. In just a few minutes, people would be trying to kill us.

Danny leaned closer, until his mouth was only an inch from my ear and I could smell the amazing, sweet-but-sexy scent of him. When he spoke, each syllable was a hot little rush of air against my skin and that rough, London accent was unshakeable. “I know you’re scared,” he said. “But you just stick with me and you’ll be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

He drew back and gazed into my eyes, watching my reaction. His green eyes looked even brighter, against the all-white uniform. I swallowed and nodded, feeling better.

He was still holding my hand. The heat of him soaked into me, calming me. And as I calmed, I felt that connection again. That pull. He gripped my hand more firmly and his fingers stroked the back of my hand. I saw his eyes change, flaring and heating with need.