Page 31 of Wyatt

A sweat beaded along Wyatt’s spine. But he just swallowed and met the guy’s hazel-green eyes with his own, ready to go another round.

Yep. So ready.

So—

“So, you’re Wyatt, Kat’s friend.”

He stared at the man. He wore a black sweater with leather shoulder pads and now folded his arms across his impressive chest.

Probably, Wyatt couldn’t take him. But he’d give it his best shot. Go down swinging. “Why?”

The man raised an eyebrow. “So here’s the deal. I know what really went down in that room. I know she gave you the jump drive, and what I need to know is—do you still have it?”

Oh these guys were good. Very good.

Wyatt needed a drink. Water.

Okay, maybe something stronger than water, but right now, his throat was closing up, fingers digging into his chest, and—

“I’m a friend.”

Wyatt’s eyes widened. That’s what they all said. Especially in a Lee Child novel. What would Reacher say?I don’t know what you’re talking about. No, no, Reacher would say something like,In two minutes, I’m going to be out of these cuffs and you’re going to wish you were already dead.

Why didn’tthosewords come out of his mouth?

The man frowned. Sighed. “Listen. My name is Roman. My wife Sarai and I have been taking care of Kat since she showed up on our doorstep a month ago, wounded. She went to meet you today on orders from a friend named York. And I know where she is. Trust me yet?”

Wyatt nodded, a little too enthusiastically for his taste, but, “Where is she?”

“Did the assailant get the USB drive?”

Wyatt stared at him, and for a moment, he was in the zone. The one where he stared down a wing, eyes on the puck, feeling his next move in his bones, knowing exactly how to react. “Tell me where she is.”

Roman cocked his head. “On one condition—after you describe the man who took the USB drive, you get on the train to Vladivostok with your team and go straight back to America.”

“And you’ve lost your freakin’ mind.” Wyatt pulled at his bonds. “Coco is in trouble, and I’m not going to let anything happen to her.”

“Neither am I. I’ll find her, put her in protective custody. But first—is there a reason to worry about the USB drive?”

“Yes!” And shoot, he let out a word that betrayed the fact he might be going off the rails.

Tuck it back in, Guns.

“Yes. He took it. A blond guy, maybe five ten or more, good with his hands. A professional. He had a scar on his jaw and clubbed ears. He jumped me, but I think I broke his nose.”

Roman held up his hand. “Breathe, Wyatt.”

Wyatt narrowed his eyes at him.

“I really am on your side.” He started to get up.

“Who was that man?”

“If my guess is right—and we’re still tracking down CCT footage to see if we can find him on the hotel cameras—his name is Damien Gustov.”

And ding, ding, ding, that rang a bell because that name matched up with the name RJ used when she’d relayed her horrific get-out-of-Russia-before-you’re-killed-by-a-hit-man story.

Wyatt went cold, his shoulders simply rising and falling as he tried to get back up, mentally, from his crash onto the ice.

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