“Aye aye, captain,” I say, giving him a salute.
His voice deepens. “I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
His expression says he doesn’t believe me, but I’m not leaving him with much of a choice.
Walker turns toward the resort entrance, reaching back for my hand and placing it on his belt.
“Let’s move.”
Walker pushes through the revolving doors first, his hand hovering near the grip of his holstered gun. I do as he instructed, keeping my hand on his belt.
Warmth rushes over me as we step inside, carrying with it the scent of cedar, fresh coffee, and cinnamon. The soaring lobby, which looked so peaceful from the outside, is now packedshoulder to shoulder with tourists checking into the hotel and hauling skis toward the rental counter.
Chatter bounces off the vaulted ceiling, blending into a constant roar that makes it impossible to focus on any one voice.
If someone wanted to disappear, this would be the place to do it.
Walker moves us through the space as he checks everything.
The balcony, the staircase, people, hands, bags.
The radio comes alive again with Levi’s voice. “West corridor clear.”
Santiago next. “Conference rooms clear.”
Ridge chimes in as well. “South entrance clear.”
Walker answers without looking away from the crowd. “Keep moving.”
The tension in Walker’s body, the clipped instructions, and the procedural sweep has the seriousness of the situation settling into my bones.
My heart starts to pound.
Walker’s breathing slows.
I don’t know if his calm makes this all better or worse.
“Walk,” Tessa radios in. “I have a possible visual.”
“Location,” Walker replies.
“Main lobby. North side. Standing beneath the chandelier.”
Walker’s hand reaches back for me, landing on my wrist as if he’s making sure my grip is secure as he moves faster through the crowd.
“Converge on Tessa’s location,” Walker demands.
Everyone around us suddenly feels six feet tall. Puffy coats, wool hats, ski helmets all seem to be closing in on us.
I stretch onto my toes, trying to see above everyone’s heads, but Walker’s broad shoulders block my view.
Tessa gives the person’s description. “Male approximately five-ten. Black jacket, gray beanie, carrying a large black duffel.”
Walker’s hand settles on his pistol, not yet drawing the weapon. He stops and takes a deep breath, speaking quietly into his radio. “Hold positions.”
My stomach twists into knots.
