Page 86 of Ground Zero

There were no words for what they’d each risked, what they’d chosen, what was building between them despite the impossible circumstances.

Then professionalism reasserted itself.

Sheridan pulled off her blazer and wrapped it around his shoulders. “Tell me what happened.”

As she helped him toward her car, Maverick filled her in.

“This woman is connected to this somehow, to Sigma. She was in her late thirties, auburn hair, expensive suit. Cold. She knew about my parents, said my father could have chosen differently.” He slumped against the car, exhaustion hitting him. “She enjoyed telling me how they’re going to frame me for what’s going to happen in Norfolk.”

Sheridan’s eyes widened. “William found files on Project Election. Your parents were murdered because your father discovered military contractors were creating false threats. The same thing Sigma’s doing now, just bigger.”

“Project Election,” Maverick repeated, the name tasting bitter. “So it’s all connected. Twenty years of lies, and they picked me to take the fall because of what my father knew.”

“We’re going to stop them.” The skin around Sheridan’s eyes wrinkled with both compassion and conviction.

He looked at her—this FBI agent who’d arrested him, who’d risked everything to help him, who was now as much a fugitive as he was.

“Cook knows about Norfolk,” she continued.

“Can we trust him?” Maverick’s voice sounded gravelly, even to his own ears.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” She helped him into the passenger seat. “But right now, we don’t have many options.”

Maverick grabbed her arm before she closed the door. “Sheridan, that woman in the helicopter—she was somebody. Somebody important. I just don’t know who.”

“We’ll figure it out.” She squeezed his hand. “But, Maverick . . .”

“What?”

“What are we going to do? We can’t go back to Blackout. The FBI thinks I’m helping a terrorist. Sigma’s hunting us both. And the attack is happening in less than twenty-four hours.”

He didn’t have an answer.

For the first time since this started, Maverick truly didn’t know what their next move should be.

Sheridan climbed into the driver’s seat and cranked up the heat for Maverick’s sake.

His lips were still tinged blue, and his whole body shook despite her jacket.

She reached into her backseat and grabbed an oversized sweatshirt. “Why don’t you take your shirt off and put this on?”

He didn’t argue. She looked away as he changed.

The sweatshirt was snug but otherwise fit.

“Cook has teams in Norfolk,” Sheridan told him as she pulled onto the road. “But they’re not finding anything because nothing’s happened yet. He thinks I lied to help you escape.”

“You did help me escape.”

“That’s not the point.” She checked the mirrors, watching for pursuit. “The point is they’re not taking the threat seriously enough. They’re looking for the wrong things.”

“I was afraid of that.”

She paused. “There’s something else also. There are kill orders out on you. You’re considered a serious threat right now.”

He drew in a sharp breath. “If you’re with me, they’ll kill you too.”

Something in his voice made her glance over. The way he said it—his words weren’t a warning. They were a plea.