Page 30 of Ground Zero (Lantern Beach Blackout: Detonation #3)
M averick watched as Sheridan grew more irritated.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“Take it easy . . .” Maverick raised his hands in a peaceful gesture. “I needed to talk to you.”
“You nearly gave me a heart attack!”
“Sorry. I didn’t want to call out when you were on the phone with your boss.” He studied her face, noting the stress lines around her eyes. “How did it go at Blackout?”
Instead of answering, she crossed her arms and glared at him, clearly not done with their previous conversation. “I went next door looking for you. You were gone. No note, no message, nothing.”
In different circumstances, he might be amused by her outburst. But there was nothing funny about this situation. “The house next door is compromised.”
“Wait.” A knot formed on her brow. “What do you mean that house is compromised?”
“I couldn’t stay there.” Maverick moved closer, keeping his movements slow and non-threatening. “This morning after you left, two agents searched both houses. They almost found me.”
The anger in her gaze flickered like a candle about to go dark. The emotion was replaced by concern. “What do you mean there were two men? Were they agents?”
“That’s the million-dollar question. They looked like FBI, moved like FBI, but . . .” He paused, remembering the overheard conversation. “One of them mentioned Ground Zero. Said the operation was too important to compromise.”
Sheridan’s face went pale. “That means either the FBI is more compromised than we thought, or those weren’t real federal agents.”
“There’s more. I recognized one of their voices, but I can’t place it.” Maverick ran a hand through his hair. “It’s someone I’ve worked with before, Sheridan. I’m sure of it. Someone I’ve spoken with, probably on the phone, but whose face I’ve never seen.”
She was quiet for a long moment, and he saw her processing this information alongside whatever she’d discovered during her visit to headquarters.
She muttered something under her breath and shook her head, dropping a paper bag on the coffee table. “So they’ve checked out both of these cottages. Are we even safe here right now?”
“Probably not for long. What did you find out at Blackout?” he quietly asked again.
Sheridan reached into her pocket and pulled out a USB drive. “This was hidden in your desk drawer. And Maverick . . . what’s on it doesn’t look good for you.”
Maverick looked at the USB drive in Sheridan’s outstretched hand, his stomach already sinking.
Whatever was on this device had been hidden in his desk—planted there by someone with access to his office, someone who wanted him to take the fall for Ground Zero.
“Show me,” he said quietly.
Sheridan moved to the kitchen table where Maverick had left the laptop. She sat and inserted the drive.
Maverick watched the folders populate on the screen.
His blood turned colder with each file name that appeared.
NAVAL_STATION_ACCESS_CODES.txt
FBI_PERSONNEL_FILES.zip
SIGMA_CONTACT_PROTOCOLS.doc
PAYMENT_CONFIRMATION.pdf
“Open the payment file,” she told him.
He already knew what they’d find. Part of him didn’t want to see it, didn’t want to face reality.
The document filled the screen—bank transfers totaling over two million dollars, all linked to an account with his social security number. The dates aligned perfectly with the cyberattacks.
Anyone looking at this would see ironclad proof of his guilt.
“This is . . .” Maverick ran his hand through his hair, his mind racing through the implications. “Sheridan, if you turn this in, I’m finished. No jury in the world would look at this evidence and see anything but treason.”
“I know.” Her voice sounded soft, understanding.
With growing dread, he clicked through the other files. The Naval Station access codes were for areas he’d never even been cleared to enter—the submarine pens, nuclear ordnance storage, the communications center.
Whoever had planted this had current, high-level access to Norfolk’s most secure areas. The base did use contractors—and those people had to be vetted. But someone was smart enough to know how to work the system.
“These aren’t just some random access codes.” He pointed at the screen. “These are for the most sensitive areas of Naval Station Norfolk. The submarine maintenance bays where they service the nuclear fleet. The weapons depot where they store Tomahawk missiles.”
Sheridan leaned closer, studying the data. “So whoever planted this?—”
“Has legitimate access to these areas. Or knows someone who does.” Maverick’s jaw tightened. “This isn’t just about framing me anymore. Someone’s planning to use these access points for the Ground Zero attack.”
He thought about the encrypted messages they’d decoded earlier.
Primary target: Naval Station Norfolk.
Less than forty-eight hours now until whatever Sigma had planned.
This was entirely more serious than he’d ever imagined. And it still wasn’t clear exactly what these people intended to do.