Page 80 of Ground Zero

“Is it?” Kyle’s eyes narrowed. “Because from where we’re standing, it looks like you might be helping a terrorist escape.”

She raised her chin. “Maverick’s not a terrorist.”

“You seem pretty sure about that.” Hudson crossed his arms, his stance shifting subtly. “Sure enough to risk your career. Maybe even your life.”

Sweat trickled down her back, cold despite the warmth of the room.

William sat frozen beside her, and she could practically feel his fear.

He wasn’t a soldier, wasn’t trained for violence. If this turned physical, he’d be useless.

It would be her against two special operators in a closed room.

“Gentlemen,” she started, “we all want the same thing here. To stop the attack on Norfolk.”

“Do we?” Kyle asked. “Because someone in this building has been feeding information to Sigma. Someone’s been settingMaverick up. And right now, Agent Mendez, you’re looking like a pretty good candidate.”

The accusation hung in the air like a challenge. Hudson watched her reaction while Kyle’s fingers drummed against his holster.

One of them was lying. One of them had betrayed everything Blackout stood for.

But which one?

The room felt smaller, the air thicker.

Two trained operatives, one rogue FBI agent, one terrified IT specialist, and enough suspicion to ignite into violence with the smallest spark.

Sheridan’s hand drifted toward her own weapon, knowing that if this went bad, it would go bad fast.

CHAPTER 44

As Maverick watched the coastline slide past below, he calculated the distances and the odds. The woman—whoever she was—continued to study him with that predatory amusement.

“You know, your father was brilliant.” The woman leaned back casually, like they were two friends catching up. “It’s a shame he was so inflexible. Things could have been different if he’d just understood the bigger picture.”

Maverick’s jaw hardened. “The bigger picture being murder and treason?”

“The bigger picture being evolution. Adaptation. The attack on Norfolk tomorrow? You’re going to be the mastermind. The evidence is already in place. Your expertise, your access codes, your convenient disappearance.”

His jaw hardened. “No one will believe that.”

Even as he said the words, he wasn’t sure he believed them.

“Won’t they? You fled arrest. You’re currently in a helicopter with unknown conspirators. Your digital fingerprints are all over the attack plans.” Her smile was sharp. “By tonight, you’ll be the most wanted terrorist in America.”

Maverick’s mind raced through options. Land and be captured by Sigma. Stay airborne and be framed for mass murder. Or . . .

He glanced again at the ocean three hundred feet below. They were about a half-mile offshore now. The water beneath him was deep and dark blue.

He’d made higher jumps during training, though never from a moving helicopter.

“The beautiful thing,” the woman continued, “is that whether you’re dead or alive barely matters. Dead, you’re a martyr for extremists. Alive, you’re proof that homegrown terrorism is the greatest threat to America. Either way, we win.”

“And innocent people die.”

“People die every day.” The woman shrugged. “At least these deaths will serve a purpose. They’re part of our long-range plan.”

Maverick shifted in his seat, testing his range of movement. No one in the helicopter seemed concerned about him as a physical threat.