Page 52 of Mountain Trial

Mrs. Larsen was half-dragged, half-carried to the front row by the terrorist with a beard. Her cream-colored evening dress was splattered with the blood of one of her bodyguards.

Tiger. Hammerhead. Bull.

They’re all types of sharks.

What scared her even more than the code names, was the fact that the men weren’t covering their faces.

They’re going to kill us.

They don’t think any of us will live long enough to be able to identify them.

Luc squeezed her hand tightly, and she squeezed back, relishing the contact.

“Good. Now let me tell you about this small device that you see on the doors. Should this door be opened before I or one of my men have put in the magic code, this little box contains enough explosives to bring the hotel down―and I mean that quite literally. So, nobody should touch this door, unless you want us all to meet our maker.”

While the man they called Bull spoke, Kat memorized everything she could about his appearance, focusing on the things he wouldn’t be able to change easily, like the shape of his earlobes and chin, and the distance between his eyes.

Tall and broad-shouldered, with a strong, determined expression, he would have been considered handsome by most people, if his eyes hadn’t been so flat.

Damien.

Where’s Damien?

She finally saw him, sitting at one of the tables close to the front door. He was staring intently at the door, a strange expression on his face.

Relief.

He looks relieved.

She didn’t understand the look, until she realized Tess wasn’t with him. She’d probably gone to the bathroom, just before the doors were locked. Which meant she was safe on the other side, with Drake, Gael, and the rest of the team.

Damien’s phone was face-down on the table in front of him―if Kat knew her boss at all, he would already have connected a call with their team outside.

At that moment, somebody started banging on the door.

“You,” the leader said, addressing the mayor. “You’re going to call the hotel front desk and ask them to stop their banging―unless they want to die. Even better, ask them to leave the building, until we’re ready to speak with them.”

“But―” the mayor stuttered.

“Do it now, or I’ll kill someone else.”

“No, no,” the older man begged. “I’ll do it.” His hand shook so badly he couldn’t get his phone to recognize his thumbprint.

“Help the mayor type in the number, Dogfish.”

While the mayor made the call, Kat turned back to look at Damien. The phone in front of him had disappeared. She kept her expression neutral, hoping he could understand the question. Damien’s response was to lean back, placing his palms flat on the table. It didn’t take a genius to interpret his meaning.

Keep calm.

Do nothing.

“In the meantime, everybody on the floor. Backs against the wall. Hands at your sides, where we can see them. My colleagues Mako and Leopard are going to stop by with a bag. Every single one of you will place your phone and ID inside,” the man called Bull said, his voice full of threat.

Mako and Leopard.

The last two sharks.

She understood why they wanted the phones, but why the IDs? What were they looking for?