Page 15 of Ground Zero

M_Adams_Secure: Understood. How do you want to handle the problem?

Unknown User: Permanently.

M_Adams_Secure: Consider it done.

The time stamp was from three days before Danny’s death. Had Danny been the problem they’d eliminated?

Sheridan’s hands trembled as she scrolled through more messages. References to “eliminating loose ends” and “maintaining operational security.” Plans for cyberattacks that matched perfectly with the incidents she’d been investigating.

Then there was the most recent message, the one that had just popped up on the screen a few moments ago.

Unknown User: First part of plan successful? Confirm you’ve earned Mendez’s trust.

Her vision blurred as rage warred in her chest.

She’d been right the first time.

Maverick Adams wasexactlywho he appeared to be—a terrorist hiding behind a noble facade.

And she’d been foolish enough to begin to trust him.

A soft footstep sounded behind her.

Sheridan’s training kicked in instantly. She spun around, drawing her weapon in one fluid motion.

She found herself face-to-face with Maverick.

He now wore jeans, a dark T-shirt, and some flip flops. His hair was still damp from the shower.

But his expression made her grip tighten on her gun.

He had the careful, calculating look of someone who’d been caught.

Maverick froze when he saw the Glock pointed at his chest.

Agent Mendez stood in front of the computer, her stance perfect, her brown eyes blazing with fury.

Whatever she’d found on that screen had convinced her he was guilty.

Which meant someone had planted evidence where she’d be sure to find it.

He thought about the files on the computer. He hadn’t shut it down. He had nothing to hide.

But the information there could have been misinterpreted.

“Easy.” He raised both hands slowly.

He’d found his friend’s gun in the bedroom. Now the weight of the .38 pressed against his lower back, tucked beneath his shirt. But he made no move to grab it.

Instead, he calmly asked, “What’s going on, Sheridan?”

“Don’t.” Mendez’s voice sounded steady, professional, but anger simmered underneath. “Don’t use my first name like we’re friends. Like you didn’t orchestrate my partner’s murder.”

Maverick’s stomach dropped. “What are you talking about? I’ve never even heard of your partner until today.”

“Your messages.” She gestured toward the computer screen without taking her eyes off him. “Talking about the FBI. Discussing acceleration of attack timelines. The newest message mentioned me by name. It’s all right there. This is a game to you, isn’t it?”

He glanced at the screen, and things clicked in place. “Those messages aren’t from me. Someone knew you might be with me and set me up.”