Page 6 of The Knight
He glimpsed his team mate Zak’s powerful shoulders as he worked the room. Tall, with a dimpled smile and intense eyes, he easily drew admiring glances from the women he passed. Fox was the same, his silvered beard and muscled frame making the female scientists blush when he drew close.
Except, both of his teammates only had eyes for their women. And while Abe was happy for them, the bonds that locked Fox and Zak to their women seemed foreign and unattainable.
It wasn’t for him. Commitment wasn’t in his DNA. His heart had hardened long ago in Afghanistan when two of his team had died because he’d trusted the wrong person.
Wrong woman.
He drained his glass of water. He’d learned the hard way that he was cut from different cloth. Better to embrace it, to beupfront about his limitations, than leave a trail of broken hearts in his wake.
Occasionally, he wondered if things would ever be different, but reality always got the better of him. It was a small price to pay for a happy, stress-free life.
Movement caught his eye. A waitress in a pearl-white dress approached, her tray laden with champagne flutes. As she drew near, Abe scanned her body, checking for any signs of concealed weapons or devices.
“Drink, sir?” She flashed him a practiced smile.
He waved his empty water glass at her before depositing it on her tray. “Thanks, but I’m sticking to the hard stuff tonight.” He winked, and she giggled as she sashayed away. Abe tracked her retreating form, appreciating the view, but still noting her gait, build, and any identifying features—old SEAL habits died hard.
“Abe, fraternizing with the staff?” Fox’s voice held a note of amusement. “Enjoy it while you can. I’ve got eyes on a potential situation on the dance floor. Two suits who’ve drunk more than’s good for them. Looks like they might need removing before someone breaks a test tube.”
“Moving to neutralize the dancing threat.” Abe headed toward the glitter of a disco ball. “Zak, you’re on over watch.”
Abe loosened his bow tie against the clammy air as he pressed back into the throng. He couldn’t wait to return to Norway. Maybe go climbing with Griff. Feel cold alpine air against his skin. Now that was something to look forward to.
The glitter ball cast fractured light across the room. Backs were turned to him, coalescing around the impending drama of the disagreement. But Abe’s attention snapped to his left. Taking advantage of the distraction, a man was hunched over an unattended computer at a stall, his movements quick.
Amateur hour at the science fair. When will the eggheads learn basic security measures?
A small device glinted as the suspect slipped it into a USB port.
Abe’s jaw clenched. “Fox, we’ve got a situation. Possible data breach at NordSec. Moving to intercept.”
“Copy. En route.”
Abe instinctually found the path of least resistance through the crowd. The cacophony of the party faded to white noise, his focus narrowing to the target.
The man was unremarkable—stocky build, forgettable suit.Purposefully unmemorable.But the tension in his shoulders betrayed him.
As he closed in, Abe morphed his confident stride into an uncertain shuffle. Shoulders hunched, he adopted the bewildered expression of a tech novice. “Excuse me. Is this the new QR7 firewall everyone’s talking about?”
The man’s head snapped up, a blotch of red creeping up his neck. “Wrong stand,” he grated, fingers white-boned on the USB.
Abe edged closer, ramping up the bumbling innocence. “No, I’m pretty sure this is it.” The scent of overpriced cologne wafted from the suspect, mingling with the unmistakable tang of nervous sweat.
The man jerked the USB free.
Abe struck. He clamped his hand onto the man’s wrist, immobilizing him mid-motion. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” His amiable smile never wavered, but he infused a glacial undercurrent into his voice.
The man tried to wrench free, pulse racing under Abe’s grip.
“Easy now.” Abe’s tone was light, as a sea of oblivious chatter and clinking glasses swirled around them.
Fox materialized through the crowd, his eyes sharp. The nod he gave Abe was barely perceptible, honed by years of partnership.
Leaning in close, Abe dropped his voice to a low growl. The acrid smell of fear rolled off the man. “Now, we’re going to go somewhere quiet and have a nice chat about what’s on that little device of yours. And remember,” his grip tightened fractionally, “how rough this gets is entirely up to you.”
Fox grasped the suspect’s other arm, completing the restraint.
“Zak. This is Abe. We’ve got a situation handled. One in custody, attempted data theft.”