Page 21 of Pressure Point (Lantern Beach Blackout: Detonation #2)

CHAPTER

TWENTY-ONE

Quinn couldn’t take her eyes off the road.

She expected to see another car appear. Gunmen.

Something.

But there was nothing.

That didn’t stop her heart from racing.

That had been close.

Too close.

And it was her fault. Those men had been trying to kill her. She wasn’t sure why the people she was working for had taken her captive—which she felt confident was what had happened.

Now they were after her again.

Atlas was on the phone, calling either the police or backup. Or both.

One thing was certain: He was trying to get her to safety.

Back on campus, behind the safety of the guarded gates, Atlas parked then turned toward her in the SUV. In the distance, investigators still stood on the shore. Blackout operatives lingered. Two vehicles raced from the facility—probably on the way to find the gunmen.

But Atlas . . . he was looking at her. Concern showed in the crinkles around his eyes and his tight expression.

Something about the look made Quinn’s heart pound harder.

The feeling was more than just danger.

It was the fact that Atlas was in front of her.

She felt a surprising surge of emotion toward him. Of affection.

Certainly it was just a hero complex, just as she’d thought earlier. It was the only thing that made sense.

“That was close.” His voice sounded throaty as he said the words.

“Yes, it was.”

He studied her. “But you’re okay?”

She did a quick physical assessment then nodded. “I’m fine. You?”

He nodded also. “Yeah, thankfully. Cassidy and her guys are headed out there. So are some guys from Blackout.”

“But those men will be gone.”

His jaw hardened. “I know. But maybe they left some evidence behind. Let’s get you inside.”

He opened his door and climbed out.

But Quinn didn’t miss the way he looked around first, just to be sure danger wasn’t anywhere close. Did he suspect these people could have invaded Blackout headquarters also?

The thought caused a shiver to race through her muscles.

She needed somewhere to feel safe. To give her thoughts time to process, and maybe more memories to return.

Atlas didn’t stop walking until they were inside. Standing in the lobby, he turned back to her. “Maybe you should get some rest. It’s been a long day . . .”

She could read between the lines.

He needed some time. She couldn’t blame him for that. He had a lot to process as well.

“That’s a good idea.” Her voice cracked as she said the words. She couldn’t help but continue to feel like this was her fault. How could she fix it and make things right?

She wasn’t sure she could.

“I’ll walk you to your room.”

As they stepped farther into the building, Quinn noticed everyone around her watching her with thinly veiled wariness. The warm welcome she’d received yesterday had evaporated, replaced by the kind of professional caution reserved for potential threats.

They walked through the corridors, and Quinn noticed details that had escaped her attention before.

Security cameras at every junction. Card readers on doors that looked like simple office spaces. The way Atlas positioned himself slightly behind and to her right—close enough to react quickly if she made any sudden moves.

He was being cautious. She couldn’t blame him. They had a lot to lose here. If an enemy infiltrated this place as Atlas suspected may have happened, the outcome could be dire.

“Here we are.” Atlas paused outside her guest quarters.

Quinn wanted to say more, but she wasn’t sure what. Instead, she pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and nodded. “Thanks.”

His gaze lingered on her for what felt like a moment longer than necessary. Unspoken conversations stretched between them.

Finally, he looked away and took a step back. “Try to get some rest.”

She would. But what Quinn really wanted was for Atlas to touch her again. To hold her hand.

She wanted to feel that connection—not just with anyone.

With him. With Atlas.

It was probably the situation. It was setting her emotions on edge. Making her feel things she probably wouldn’t ordinarily.

Or would she?

Atlas Manning was a fascinating man.

And off-limits.

Especially if she was an assassin. She had to keep that thought at the forefront of her mind.

For her sake and his.

Atlas waited until he heard the deadbolt slide in place.

Then he walked twenty feet down the hall to where Sarah Blackmore was already positioned in a chair with a clear view of Quinn’s door. Colton must have sent her up here after Atlas had called.

“Standard protective detail protocols,” he told her.

Blackmore nodded, though her sharp gaze suggested she understood this was about more than protection. “Copy that. No one gets in or out without your say-so.”

Especially out.

“Cassidy may be stopping by,” Atlas reminded her. “She’s on the approved list.”

Atlas made his way back outside, where the crash investigation continued despite the gathering dusk.

Portable floodlights had been set up around the shoreline, casting harsh white light over the wreckage recovery operation.

Coast Guard divers worked methodically through the shallow water while FAA investigators catalogued debris on the beach.

The scene looked professional, thorough. But Atlas knew they were missing a crucial piece of the puzzle—Quinn’s role in bringing down the aircraft.

Ty Chambers appeared at his elbow. “We sent a team out to check the woods. Everyone was gone.”

He wasn’t surprised. “I suspected as much.”

“Tell me what happened.”

Atlas ran through the details of the ambush.

Ty rubbed his jaw. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Believe me, neither do I. But if Quinn really was working for the enemy, would they have tried to kill her?” The question had been bugging him. He couldn’t make sense of it.

Ty shrugged. “Maybe if they think she flipped on them, and now they need to eliminate her.”

Atlas wanted to argue, but he couldn’t. Ty was right.

The attack today really proved nothing except that danger was still close—and not backing off.

“In the meantime, we checked the manufacturer’s serial number for the copter,” Ty said.

“And?”

“The helicopter was reported as destroyed during a Navy training exercise in Arizona.”

“What?” Atlas swiped a hand through his hair.

“Someone obviously snatched it and covered it up,” Ty finished. “That explains the sophisticated equipment onboard.”

“And since it was reported as destroyed, Sigma had time to set it up to look like one of ours.” Atlas tapped his finger against his arm as he processed the update.

“Exactly.”

Atlas’s stomach clenched. Quinn had saved dozens of lives today, possibly including his own. That had to count for something, didn’t it?

But what didn’t make any sense was motive. Why would she have saved them if she was here to destroy them?

“Any word on the pilot?” Atlas asked.

“Still unconscious,” Ty said. “Dr. Spenser says he took a hard hit when he ejected—possible traumatic brain injury. Even if he wakes up, there’s no guarantee he’ll remember anything useful.”

Convenient. The thought came unbidden, followed immediately by guilt. Atlas was starting to see conspiracies everywhere, even in medical facts that had nothing to do with Quinn.

Footsteps sounded on the other side of him, and he looked over to see Colton approaching. His face appeared stony and tight.

“Atlas.” Colton’s voice cut through his brooding. “We need to talk. Conference room, five minutes.”

His tone left no room for argument.

Atlas watched his boss walk away, noting the tension in Colton’s shoulders. Whatever conversation was coming, it wouldn’t be pleasant.

As he and Ty followed Colton toward the main building, Atlas wrestled with the decision that had been eating at him since Quinn’s confession on the beach.

Part of him wanted to keep the revelations she’d shared to himself—to protect her from the suspicion and interrogation that would inevitably follow. She’d trusted him with information that could get her killed or imprisoned.

Didn’t that trust deserve some protection in return?

But another part of him—the professional part that had been drilled into him through years of military and intelligence training—knew that withholding critical information from his team was a betrayal of everything Blackout stood for.

People’s lives are at stake. Your feelings about Quinn don’t matter.

The reminder was harsh but necessary. Whatever was happening between him and Quinn, it couldn’t come at the expense of his colleagues’ safety.

By the time Atlas reached the conference room, his decision was made.

He was going to tell Colton and Ty everything.