The words hit me square in the chest.
I cross back to her, kiss her one more time. "I love you."
"I—" She stops, swallows hard. "Just come back. Okay?"
"I will."
Then I'm out the door, jogging down the hallway, trying not to think about what I'm leaving behind.
The staging point is a gas station about ten miles from the warehouse.
Fenrir's truck is already there when I pull in, along with two other vehicles.
I park my bike, head over to where the team is gathering.
Tor.
Fenrir.
Hakon.
Ulf.
Magnus.
All in dark clothes, cuts hidden under jackets, weapons concealed but ready.
"About time," Hakon says.
"Fuck off. I'm here."
"Everyone knows the plan?" Fenrir asks.
Nods all around.
"Intel says six kids in the shipment. Van and a bus, both white, no markings. They're loading at the warehouse, planning to move out within the hour. We intercept before they hit the highway."
"How many of them?" Magnus asks.
"Unknown. At least six, maybe more. They'll be armed."
"What are the terms of this run, rules? Gotta lay it out for everyone." Tor's voice is tight, controlled.
"Protect the kids at all costs. Take down anyone who gets in the way." Fenrir's eyes are hard. "These people traffic children. They don't get mercy."
"Understood."
We pile into the vehicles—me with Hakon and Ulf in one truck, Fenrir with Tor and Magnus in the other.
The drive to the warehouse takes fifteen minutes.
Fifteen minutes of silence, of checking weapons, of steeling ourselves for what's coming.
Fifteen minutes of me thinking about Ingrid.
About her face when I left.
About the words she almost said but didn't.
