“I need you to share the plan with Princess Eloise and ensure all of her questions and concerns are addressed.”
Bendtsen’s eyes got even wider before the normally taciturn major turned his attention back to the screens. “I see.” His eyes narrowed as he looked closer at the monitor showing the north gate.
Dom’s gaze went to the blank screen that normally would have shown Elle’s room. One quick flick of the switch and he could see her, watch her, pretend the last time he’d see her wasn’t going to be in a few hours. Even as mad as she was at him, she wasn’t half as mad as he was at himself. He shouldn’t have lied to her about her father. He knew how awful it was to lose a parent—hell, he’d lost both. If he were to find out tomorrow they were still alive and had hidden that from him, he’d go nuclear.
His hand was up and over the button to turn on the monitor showing Elle’s room before he even realized it. Then the light above one of the monitors started blinking, then another and another.
It took effort, but he spotted the men moving through the chalet’s grounds. Judging by their formation and weapons, they were highly trained Fjende guards.
“Fuck.” He clicked on the emergency comm line that went to the entire security team. “We’ve been breached. I repeat, we’ve been breached. Lethal force authorized.” Dom disconnected and spun around to face the major. “How the fuck did they get this far inside the line without anyone knowing?”
The other man’s fingers moved like lightning on the keyboard, and he brought up two video feeds of the same shot—one live with Fjende thugs exchanging fire with his team, the other showing the same scene minus the firefight.
“They hacked into our system and mirrored the feeds,” the major said.
That’s when the lights inside the security operations bunker dropped down to low-generator-power mode, signaling that automatic safety measures had been enacted.
Elle!
Dom rushed for the door and tried to yank it open. Nothing happened. Fuck. The security operations room had been designed like a panic room. In the event of a problem, no one got in and no one got out. The monitors still worked, but that didn’t make for two-way communication. The white intercom box above the screens caught his eye.
“Tap in to her room intercom, Bendtsen. I need to warn her.” Heart ramming against his rib cage, he flipped on her room monitor. She was there. He released the breath he’d been holding captive. Her eyes were wide and she was looking around; knowing her she was on the hunt for a weapon.
“Elle, I need you to get in your closet!” he yelled into the intercom mic. “There’s a panic room behind the back wall. Barricade yourself in.”
She grabbed a sharp, steel letter opener and slid it into the side of her knee-high boot. “What’s going on, Dom?”
“The Fjende. They’re here. Get in the panic room.” His voice shook as he mentally cursed himself for not being with her. “I will come for you.”
“Dom—”
“I will always come for you, Elle, but I need you to stick to the plan right now.” Closing his eyes for a second, he sent up a quick prayer thanking God she was still okay and begging that she’d stay that way. “And the plan is for you to get into the—”
The sound of shouting and glass breaking blasted through the intercom. The line went dead. He snapped open his eyes. Each monitor showed only white snow. The Fjende had managed to cut communications. There was nothing he could do to save her. No way for him to get to her and protect her. He had no control, not when it really fucking mattered. It was enough to make his hands shake. He hadn’t been this scared since his parents had gone missing. They’d ended up mutilated, their bodies dumped in a central square.
He clamped his jaw tight. That wasn’t going to happen to Elle.
He yanked out a chair and rolled up his sleeves as he sat down. He hadn’t earned his first million as a venture capitalist. No, the kitty money had come from a successful software program he’d created. The eight-inch-thick steel door was controlled by a locking program not linked to the chalet’s main power grid or its regular security features. Sometimes being a paranoid control freak paid off, and he was going to make sure this was just such a time.
Lowering his fingers to the keyboard, he let out a deep breath. The Fjende were out there coming after Elle, and the only thing standing between him and saving her was breaking the code to unlock the security headquarters’ door. He didn’t have time to waste.
…
Elle fought to keep from giving in to the blind terror scraping her from the inside out. The men had crashed through the French doors of her balcony. She’d jumped for cover and found a hiding space behind the massive walnut dressing table.
Her gaze darted around the room, counting the number of black-booted men searching through the large bedroom. The closet with its panic room was on the other side of the room. She peeked around the dressing table’s corner. No one was near the closet door. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and her hands shook as she gauged the distance.
She had surprise on her side. If she could sprint fast enough, she just might be able to get inside the closet before they knew what was going on. Taking a deep breath, she readied herself for the mad dash of her life. That’s when a giant man stepped directly between her and the closet. Looking down, he smiled at her. It wasn’t a nice smile.
“Princess Eloise, we’ve been looking for you for some time,” he said. “I am Walther Henriksen, the head of your royal guard. If you’ll come with me, we’ll have you back in Elskov by morning.”
“I’m not going with you.”
“You don’t have a choice, Your Highness.”
“I always have a choice.” She settled into her stance, legs shoulder width apart, hands loose.
Walther watched her with amusement, one white-blond eyebrow raised. “I’m easily a foot taller, have a hundred pounds on you, and am backed up by a small platoon of men who wouldn’t hesitate to shoot you in the ass with a tranquilizer if I even look in their direction.”