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Page 4 of Ground Zero (Lantern Beach Blackout: Detonation #3)

S heridan felt Maverick go rigid beside her, saw his face drain of color.

His parents? How did a terrorist organization have information about his family? She knew his parents had died when he was young, but . . .

“Don’t listen to him,” she rushed, her voice low. “It’s a manipulation tactic.”

But Maverick stared at Skidmore with an expression she’d never seen before. Not fear.

Something deeper.

Something that looked like an old wound torn open.

“My parents died in a car accident when I was twelve.” His voice was barely audible as he said the words.

The implications clicked together in Sheridan’s mind with horrible clarity.

These men were hinting that there was more to his parents’ deaths than was initially indicated. That maybe they’d even been murdered.

“The timing of their deaths was awfully convenient.” Skidmore called from the other side of the dune. “Your dad worked on some top-secret projects for the government, right? Not long after that, there was an election. Some people claim it was rigged.”

Sheridan watched Maverick’s hands clench into fists. Whatever Skidmore was implying, his words had hit their target.

“You’re lying.” Maverick’s voice shook as he crouched behind the driftwood alongside Sheridan.

“Am I? Then why don’t you look into a classified file one of your colleagues may have seen before. The one labeled ‘Darius Adams—Project Election.’”

Sheridan saw the exact moment Maverick’s world shifted. The betrayal that crossed his features wasn’t about some distant terrorist organization.

It was about the people he worked with every day. The people he trusted.

One of them was dirty.

“Mav—” she started.

“We need to move.” He cut her off, his voice suddenly flat and professional. “Now.”

“But—”

Before she could argue, Maverick was up and sprinting toward the construction site.

Thankfully, she was a fast runner. She had to stay close—had to stay on his heels.

For more than one reason.

They dashed across the sand, bullets kicking up sprays around their feet.

The construction site in front of them was a maze of half-built beach houses in various stages of completion. Two-by-four frames, stacks of lumber, cement mixers, and construction debris provided perfect cover as they rushed through the development.

Sheridan ducked and rolled just as splinters exploded from a wooden frame post inches from her head.

She quickly jumped to her feet, rocks and gravel pricking her bare feet. That was the least of her worries right now.

She continued running after Maverick, providing covering fire as weapons chattered behind them.

She finally caught up to Maverick behind a partially framed house, both of them breathing hard.

She paused, still on alert as she sucked in several deep breaths. “Are you okay?”

When Maverick looked at her, she noted how his eyes had gone cold and distant. “Define okay.”

Fair point. In the last ten minutes, he’d been arrested for treason, attacked by fake federal agents, and told his parents’ deaths might have been murder.

That would be a lot for anyone.

“We’ll figure it out.” She peered around the corner, searching for the shooters. “But, first, we need to get out of here alive.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” He peered around the corner also.

With her gun drawn and ready, they both watched as the fake agents moved with stealth around the houses, searching for them. Their attackers weren’t aware which direction they’d gone. Not yet.

They needed to use that to their advantage.

Maverick picked up a rock and, aiming carefully, threw it inside one of the nearby homes.

The men shouted and scrambled toward the sound, assuming Sheridan and Maverick were inside.

Just what Maverick had wanted.

He nodded toward the access road visible beyond the last framed house. “My truck’s just ahead. Stay low and watch for my signal.”

Despite everything Sheridan’s training told her about maintaining professional distance, she found herself hoping they’d both survive long enough for her to find the truth about this situation.

Even if that truth destroyed everything she believed about the people she trusted most.

They reached Maverick’s truck—a beat-up Ford F-150 that had seen better decades—without taking any more bullets.

As he fumbled for his keys in a protected pocket of his wetsuit, Sheridan’s phone buzzed with an incoming call.

Assistant Director Cook. Her boss.

She ignored it. No time to answer now.

Maverick unlocked his doors, and they scrambled inside.

He wasted no time heading down the road and out of sight.

By the time those men realized they were gone, she and Maverick should be far away.

Her heart rate slowed—though barely.

Her phone buzzed again, and she stared at the screen where Cook’s name stretched again. Two calls in a row?

She knew that meant she shouldn’t ignore her boss.

Yet still, her finger hovered over the Answer button without pressing it.

Protocol demanded she immediately report this incident. To tell Cook about the arrest and the shooters. To request backup and proper transport for the suspect.

The suspect who currently drove his truck away from the scene with calm efficiency.

Indecision twisted inside her.

“You going to answer that?” Maverick didn’t look at her as he asked the question. He kept his eyes on the road.

Sheridan frowned as she watched the call go to voicemail. Then her phone immediately started ringing again.

“Agent Mendez.” Maverick’s voice was quiet, understanding. “I know what you’re thinking. Everything in your training is telling you to answer the call and report this.”

“It is.” She looked back toward the houses where the fake agents had disappeared. “But everything in my gut is telling me someone close to me told those guys exactly when and where to find me. I’m not sure who I can trust—because I’m pretty sure those guys would have taken me out to get to you.”

She silenced the ringer.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re making the right choice.”

“I hope so.” Sheridan turned off her phone completely. “Because if I’m wrong about you, I just threw away my career for nothing.”

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