Page 4 of Ground Zero

His personal signature was embedded in every piece of software he’d ever created—a digital DNA that was supposedly impossible to forge.

Unless . . .

“Someone’s been in my systems.” The pieces clicked together with horrible clarity. “Someone with high-level access copied my code and used it to frame me.”

The agent—he really needed to get her name—crossed her arms. “That’s a convenient story.”

“It’s the truth.” Maverick stared at her, willing her to see the sincerity in his eyes. “Think about it—if I was really behind these attacks, would I be out here surfing half a mile from my workplace? Wouldn’t I have run?”

She cocked an eyebrow skeptically. “Criminals make stupid mistakes all the time.”

“But hackers don’t,” Maverick countered. “Real hackers always have an exit strategy. They don’t hang around playing in the waves. They also don’t add their personal digital signature to the malicious code if they don’t want to get caught.”

For just a second, uncertainty flickered across the agent’s features. Then the professional mask slammed back into place. She studied Maverick a long moment, and he found himself memorizing details about her face.

The tiny scar above her left eyebrow. The way her lower lip was slightly fuller than her upper one. The fact that, despite her obvious anger, her hands had been gentle when she’d cuffed him.

Focus, Adams. This woman wants to put you in federal prison for the rest of your life. This is no time to admire her beauty.

He took a deep breath before asking, “What’s your name?”

“Special Agent Sheridan Mendez.” The words came out clipped, professional.

“Well, Agent Mendez, I’m innocent. You have the wrong guy.” He tugged at the cuffs behind him, upset with himself for letting things get this far.

“Oh, really? Then who’s the right guy?”

“Most likely it’s someone with Sigma.”

Sigma was a terrorist organization that had formed in the States. The people involved thought they were being recruited by the US government when, in fact, they were working for criminals who wanted to destroy the United States.

Recognition fluttered through her eyes. “Sigma?”

“If I had to guess, they set me up to take the fall for your partner’s death.”

Sheridan Mendez stared at him like he’d started speaking in tongues.

As if summoned by their conversation, the distinctive whine of approaching engines cut through the morning air. Two black SUVs raced down the beach access road in front of them, moving way too fast for a casual morning drive.

“They with you?” Maverick asked.

A frown tugged at the corner of her lips. “Not necessarily.”

“Then I suggest, for both of our sakes, you proceed with caution.”

CHAPTER 3

Sheridan wanted to feel relief as she watched two black SUVs pull to a stop twenty yards away.

Backup was here.

Most likely.

No, that was who theyhadto be, she corrected herself. They hadn’t come with her team to the island, but it wouldn’t surprise her if the Bureau had sent more than one team. They must have also realized that Maverick was at the beach surfing.

Something was finally going according to protocol—despite what Maverick had claimed about his innocence.

She couldn’t let him get into her head. He was simply desperate to escape, to get away with what he’d done. He’d say anything to get himself off the hook.