The experimental, jet-powered X8 helicopter came in low over the Gilman Glacier.

Lachlan pressed one hand to the doorway leaning into the cockpit, watching Seth and Blair in the pilot seats, bringing them closer to the Hazen Research Base.

The X8 not only had coaxial dual rotors, it had a wide body with jet engines, giving the aircraft the best elements of both helicopter and plane. It possessed more than double the speed of most helicopters and had an increased range. They’d had to do a mid-air refuel en route, but they were now coming in on their target.

Ahead, Lachlan took in the stunning view of the ice glinting in the morning sun through the X8’s wide windshield.

“Who the hell would want to come out here?” Seth said. “On purpose.”

Seth Lynch, a former CIA agent from the Agency’s Special Activities Division, sounded bored. Lachlan knew the man well and knew that wasn’t the case. Tall, dark, and lean, Seth was very good at letting people only see what he wanted them to see. Lachlan had given up trying to work out how many languages Seth spoke or how many accents he could mimic.

Seth wasn’t bored. Far from it.

“Apparently, a team of scientists from universities all around the world,” Lachlan answered. “To study glacial ice.”

Seth looked back over his shoulder and raised a dark eyebrow. He was wearing his all-white, cold-weather gear, his hands moving easily over the X8’s controls. One side of his face was smooth skin, while the other side was covered in a mass of scars.

“Sounds like they ended up with more than ice.”

“Yeah,” the blonde woman beside Seth said. “They had an unwelcome visitor.”

Blair Mason’s blonde ponytail swung behind her. Lachlan’s best friend and second-in-command was also former Marine Force Recon.

She was tough and competent as hell, and had fought beside Lachlan for years. He’d saved her life a time or two, and Blair had more than returned the favor. The woman was an expert in close-quarter combat, and fought mean. There was nothing the woman loved more than tossing bad guys on their asses, usually after she toyed with them for a bit first.

“Yeah.” The frantic transmission he’d listened to had been playing over and over in Lachlan’s head. A man identifying himself as Dr. Samuel Malu had called in a distress call requesting help. The transmission had ended on a terrified scream, and the sound of…something else.

Lachlan spotted the outlines of the domes in the distance. He turned to the rest of his team. In the back of the aircraft, Smith Creed, Axel Diaz, and Callie Kimura all sat, bodies relaxed and also clad in white cold-weather gear. Big, burly Smith, a former Navy SEAL, was cleaning his rifle. Former Air Force Pararescueman Callie—the Team 52 medic—was sorting out her medical backpack. Axel looked like he was asleep, but Lachlan knew the former Delta Force soldier could be awake and move fast when required.

“Okay, listen up. We’re nearly at the camp.” His team all looked up. “Something appears to have attacked these scientists, but we have no idea what. There should be nothing out here but ice. We’ve tried to establish contact with the base, but there’s been no response.”

“You think someone attacked them?” Axel’s voice was a smooth drawl.

“I don’t know.” Lachlan never speculated. He planned for all the contingencies he could think of, but he waited for the facts.

“And why has our little outfit been called in for this mission?” Blair called back from the cockpit.

“Team 52 was activated based on a comment by Dr. Malu, and an email sent earlier by the expedition leader, a Dr. Schafer.” Lachlan looked at them all. “Malu was rambling and afraid, but he mentioned some unusual object they’d found in the ice. An object that was perhaps made of metal, and with possible strange carvings on it.”

Smith leaned forward. Born and raised in the Colorado mountains, with his brawn and beard, he looked like a mountain man. The former Navy SEAL knew more about weapons than anyone Lachlan had worked with. He was also a hell of a tracker. “How old’s the ice on this glacier?”

“Five thousand years old.”

Smith blinked. “Well, I take it we’re here to find out what happened and procure the object.”

“You guessed right.” Lachlan looked back out the window and studied the connected domes rising up off the ice. He could see one large dome was damaged, like a giant had punched its way out. “We’re here. Let’s get ready to go. Be prepared for anything.”

Lachlan checked his high-tech CXM7 integrated assault rifle. The experimental weapon had an integrated grenade launcher and combat shotgun, as well as assisted targeting. He watched his team ready themselves. All of them were professionals, from all branches of the armed forces. Like him, their traditional military careers had ended for various reasons—he flexed his prosthetic hand—but because of their skills, they’d been offered an opportunity with Team 52.

His covert team was tasked with collecting and safeguarding artifacts and objects deemed highly dangerous or classified. Artifacts that no one wanted falling into the wrong hands.

Lachlan might still feel the odd pang of loss for his Force Recon days, but working with this motley crew, and the strange assignments they took on, had proved rewarding. They did good work. Important work.

“Landing now,” Blair said.

Seth and Blair set the X8 down close to the camp. Lachlan slid the side door open and leaped out first. He scanned the surroundings, then waved the others to follow. Moments later, his team fanned out beside him.

Apart from the several flags fluttering on the nearby flagpoles, there was no sound.

“Spooky,” Seth murmured, his pale-blue eyes alight.

“Stay sharp.” Lachlan moved forward. “Let’s clear the place and look for survivors.”

They all nodded. Lachlan moved forward and as he reached the entrance to the first dome, he lifted his weapon.

It was cold inside. They moved quickly to clear the first dome.

“What the fuck?” Seth moved forward, staring at the macabre scene.

Lachlan’s mouth firmed. A woman hung from the roof, frozen in a web of ice, her face etched in fear. What the hell had happened here?

“Let’s clear the rest of the domes, then we’ll cut her down and bag her.”

Lifting his rifle again, he waved two fingers at Smith, Axel, and Callie. The trio split off. Seth and Blair fell in behind him. They methodically moved through the domes.

They found more bodies in the labs and sleeping quarters. Lachlan studied the icy-white eyes, and the coating of ice covering the scientists’ skin and clothes. Several had wild slashes on their chests.

Blair knelt beside a young woman with dark hair. “She froze to death.”

Lachlan rubbed his prosthetic thumb against his rifle. “Yeah.”

Blair leaned closer. “This isn’t from exposure, Lachlan. It’s cold in here, but not that cold. See their eyes? And their veins? Frozen solid. I’ve never seen anything like it. Whatever happened, it happened quickly.”

Seth frowned, his gaze scanning the room around them. “Flash frozen?”

Blair stood. “Something like that.”

Lachlan stared at the bodies. “We’ll bag the bodies and take them with us. Ty will want to examine them.”

Axel and the others appeared. “These are going to make the doc bitch and moan.” Axel’s thick brown hair fell over his dark eyes.

Dr. Ty Sampson was Team 52’s lead genius. The big man was a former Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency, or DARPA, scientist, once responsible for developing emerging technologies for the military. Now he did it for Team 52 and he was grumpy as hell, especially when he had a mystery to solve.

“Let’s clear the last two domes.” Lachlan moved forward. “Blair, you and Seth start bagging the bodies. Check to see if we’re missing anyone.”

His second nodded and waved at Seth. “You’re with me, Lynch.”

“Smith, with me,” Lachlan ordered. “Axel and Callie, you check the other dome.”

Lachlan and Smith found a dark-skinned, older man next to a destroyed communications system. He matched the photo of Dr. Malu. Lachlan stared numbly at the man’s face. It had been a long time since death had made him react.

Shit. Maybe he’d been doing this too long? He remembered his dad. A Marine to the bone, Douglas Hunter had come back from Vietnam and never been the same. He’d had a numbness in his eyes mixed with pain that could explode into rage without warning.

Lachlan shoved the old memories away and focused. There was an empty office he assumed belonged to the base leader, Dr. Rowan Schafer. He had a grainy, black and white picture of her that was particularly unflattering. They hadn’t found her yet.

Smith opened the door to the attached storage room. Nothing.

Lachlan touched his earpiece. All the team wore state-of-the-art microdot communicators. So tiny they were barely visible to the naked eye.

“Clear. Whatever did this, it isn’t here now.” Lachlan glanced at Smith and the man nodded.

“Clear.” Axel’s voice.

“Clear,” Blair added. “We’re starting work on bagging the bodies.”

Lachlan nodded at Smith. They moved back through the tunnels and into the main lab dome. Benches and shelves had been tipped over and torn up. Glass crunched under his boots.

As they moved to join the others in the rec dome, something danced along Lachlan’s senses. He turned in a slow circle. The lab was silent and cold. Nothing moved.

“Boss?” Smith asked.

“Go. I want to take one last look around. See if I can find this object they discovered in the ice.”

Smith nodded and tapped his ear. “Just holler if you need me.”

After he’d left, Lachlan carefully traveled the perimeter of the dome. There had definitely been a struggle in here, and something had rampaged through the lab. He reached the back wall and noted several boxes on the floor, and a shelf leaning against the wall. A shelf?

He studied the waist-high cabinet. The shelf looked like it would fit inside. He spotted another one tossed on the floor.

His eyes narrowed. The cabinet doors were ajar the tiniest bit.

Something moved inside.

Lachlan whipped his CXM rifle up and aimed. With his foot, he kicked the door open.

A woman sprang out with a yell and rammed into him. She was tall and solid, and he staggered back into the bench behind him.

She struggled wildly. Lachlan tried to contain her flailing arms without hurting her. Then he slipped on ice and they went down.

“Fuck,” he bit out.

The woman managed to straddle him and lifted a Glock. Her hands were shaking, her blue eyes a little unfocused, but there was a look of determination on her face. Her teeth were clenched together, tightening an already strong jawline. Dark-red hair escaped from a black, knitted hat on her head.

“Hey.” Lachlan held his palms up. “I’m here to help. My team was sent to find out what happened here.”

She blinked pale-blue eyes rimmed with darker blue that looked strangely familiar. “You’re not the…thing?”

Thing? “No. Just a man.”

“You’re wearing all white…I thought…” She shook her head. “They’re dead.” Her blue-tinged lips trembled.

Lachlan realized her shaking wasn’t all fear or shock. She was dressed in dark cargo pants and a green sweater—which he was man enough to notice clung to very nice curves. However, the clothes clearly weren’t enough to keep her warm in the cool temperature.

“I know,” he said quietly.

Damn, he wasn’t usually the one calming down victims and witnesses they encountered. He usually left that to Seth or Axel. Both had enough charm to make anyone feel easy with them. Well, Seth only turned his on when it suited him, but for Axel, it was like breathing.

But for some reason, Lachlan wanted to comfort this woman.

He reached up and touched her arm. “Let me help you?”

The pistol stayed stubbornly aimed at his chest. Lachlan weighed the odds, then in a lightning-fast move, he gripped her wrist and reared up. He spun her around until her back was flush against the front of him, her curvy butt resting in his lap.

She gasped, bucking against him. She tried to wrench her arm and the gun out of his grip.

His lips brushed her ear. “Just relax. You don’t need the gun.” He didn’t want to hurt her, but he tightened his hold until the gun clattered on the floor.

Her shaking increased. “They’re dead.” A tortured whisper.

“You’re cold.” Lachlan wrapped his arms around her, sharing his heat. “We need to get you warmed up.”

She held herself stiff.

“Let me help you,” he said. “I’m not going to let anything hurt you.”

She was stiff for another long second, then she relaxed into him. She turned her head, their faces only inches apart. “Okay.”

He nodded. “Okay.” She had a faint smattering of freckles he found pretty attractive.

They stayed there, him wrapped around her, for a full minute.

“I’m going to find you some warmer clothes and blankets.” Lachlan moved to stand.

Her hands gripped his wrists. “Don’t leave me.”

There was fear buried deep in her quiet words. Lachlan felt an insane need to protect this woman. “Okay.” He touched his ear. “Callie? Can you find some cold-weather clothes and blankets, and bring them to the lab? We have a survivor.”

“Roger that, boss,” was Callie’s steady response.

For now, Lachlan kept his hold on the woman. He focused on keeping her warm, and not on the curvy ass nestled against him.

“What’s your name?” she whispered.

“Lachlan.”

“They’re all dead, Lachlan.” Her voice hitched.

“Yeah, they are. I’m sorry.”

She swiveled to look at him again and those blue eyes hit him. “They’re dead, and it’s all my fault.”