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There was no signage. No indication of what was happening on the other side of the fence. He tipped his baseball cap lower. He had confidence in the ID delivered at first light, but he still needed to play his part with conviction. The creaking Fiat settled as he pulled on the handbrake, pine-scented cardboard air freshener swinging wildly.
Jo was at his side, notepad in her lap, fake ID clipped to the fitted shirt she wore. Her grip on the notepad tightened until her knuckles shone white through the skin.
He covered her hands with his. “This is going to work.”
“You don’t know that,” she whispered.
He ran his thumb gently over her icy hands. “Do you trust me?”
She met his gaze and nodded.
Good. “Just follow my lead.”
He blew out a breath readying himself, blocking out the memory of Jo’s body under his hands last night, the tempting slope of her breast, the pink-coffee pucker of her nipples that begged to feel the scrape of his teeth along their sensitive underside. She was fast becoming more than a distraction; she was becoming an obsession.
One of the two security guards stationed at the gate ambled toward them. Young, cocky with a swagger brought on by the weapon on his hip. Early morning sunshine highlighted sparse hair on his upper lip and jaw. Griff swallowed a rumble of displeasure. A fucking boy.
The boy-guard halted as Griff wound down his window. He bent to survey inside the rental.
Jo gave him a wave and straightened the notepad on her lap. “Hi.”
“Morning.” Griff offered his ID between two fingers, his breathing slow, his manner casual. “NORSAR.”
The guard took the ID and studied it for interminable seconds. Griff fought the urge to pull at the collar and tie slowly strangling him. This was why he didn’t work in a fucking office.
“NORSAR?” The boy rocked back on his heels.
“Norwegian Seismic Array. We monitor seismic—”
“I know what you do.” The guard scrunched his nose in disdain. “What’s your business here today?”
Griff pasted a smile on his face instead of popping the guard on the nose like he deserved. “We’re reviewing emergency response planning and seismic retrofitting of all local businesses. Our sensors show concerning activity in the Møre-Trøndelag Fault Complex.” The words tripped off his tongue neatly. He waved a casual hand at the rising expanse of cliff blocking out the morning sun.
The kid glanced at a chunky tablet. “You’re not on the list for today.”
“Really.” Griff flashed a look of surprise at Jo. He turned his attention back to the kid. “I don’t want to put you on the spot.” He made a play of looking at his watch. It wasn’t yet seven. “Feel free to ring Dr. Nilsen to confirm. I’m sure he won’t mind you calling him at home.”
The boy guard sucked air in through his teeth, his eyes narrowing in appraisal.
“That cliff face behind you.” Griff jerked an offhand thumb toward the sheer cliff face. “The rock wall is a deadly force just waiting to be unleashed. There are sensors embedded within it, monitoring for the slightest shifts, the tiniest fracturing cracks. Changes so gradual, so invisible, no one can see them, then one day—BOOM!”
He slammed his fists together, making Jo jump. “Tons of rock shear off, triggering a cataclysmic chain reaction. The falling boulders gain momentum as they plummet, dislodging more and more rock in an unstoppable avalanche.” He lowered his voice. “It’s not until the landslide smashes into the fjord that the real destruction begins. The displacement of water surges, a towering wall of water over thirty, forty feet high.”
He locked eyes with the guard, but relaxed back in his seat. “I’ve seen the aftermath. Homes, lives, everything wiped out in mere seconds. The wave hits like a freight train, decimating anything in its path. And it all starts with tiny, hidden cracks—a deadly pressure cooker waiting to blow.”
The guard stared up at the rocky cliffs. His bony Adam’s apple bobbed. “Wait here.” He walked back to his colleague, his pace brisker than it had been when he approached the van. Griff allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction.
“Shit.” Jo glanced up at the cliffs. “I had no idea.”
Griff eyed the guards in conversation, drumming his fingers on the dash. “Yeah. Neither did he.”
She sighed, and he unhooked her fingers from her notepad, threading his through hers.
“Is this your first time?” he asked.
“First time for what?” A puzzled frown descended on her lovely face. Damn, he wanted to kiss it away.
“First time assuming a false identity and obtaining illegal entry into a multi-national corporation?”
