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CHAPTER ONE

TYR SKAVANGA IS HOME!

THE HEADLINE BLARED at him His sister Britt had placed the newspaper on her desk, where she knew he couldn’t fail to see it Britt was trying to tell him in her usual no-nonsense way how much he’d been missed, and hoords could never express his three sisters’ happiness now he’d returned The photograph beneath the headline showed Britt, Eva and Leila, hugging each other, their faces wreathed in smiles of joy

Because of him

Turning, he went to stare out of Britt’s office here snow drifted fro outside the building was pristine white and unspoiled, while inside, reflected in the as a killer’s face, his face, and he couldn’t hide from that

He had no wish to, Tyr thought gri town that bore his fast people he loved He’d stayed away for too long after leaving the army, to protect his sisters and friends froed Britt, his eldest sister, had never given up on hi to contact hi the usual response from hih her husband, Sheikh Sharif Sharif was one of Tyr’s closest friends and had re to reveal Tyr’s whereabouts, or what he was doing while he ay, even to his wife, Britt

In the end it was a child who had pricked his conscience and brought hiirl froee camp, and when the tears of joy subsided she had turned to him to ask, with all the concern a child of seven who’d seen too much could muster:

‘Don’t you have a family, Mr Tyr?’

The little girl’s question had shah his ar him to think about those he’d left behind Yes, he had a family and he loved theirl’s family had com They were reunited They were alive That was all they asked for When he’d left the ca, he’d worked until his strength gave out, and all the tiged at him, made him realise how lucky he was to have people who loved hih he had dreaded confronting his sisters, ould see through the shell in an instant to this new and ed man

He had been of inestimable value to Special Forces, a senior officer had told him as he pinned aTyr wanted carved on his tombstone He wanted to be remembered for what he’d built, and not for what he’d destroyed He’d encountered three types of soldier in battle: those who enjoyed their job, those ent about their duty with unfailing courage and loyalty to comrades and country, and those ould never recover from what they’d seen, physically,He had the love of a good faed, not just to stay alive, but to remain relatively unharmed, at least outwardly And noas up to hi process so he could be of some use to those less fortunate than himself

‘Tyr!’