Page 39 of Ground Zero
“You can say that again.”
They gathered their things—the laptop with the decrypted messages, their weapons, and Sheridan’s overnight bag. Then Maverick led the way, silently moving through the shadows between the houses.
The neighboring home was a modest beach cottage similar to Sheridan’s rental, but it was older and more weathered. Maverick found an unlocked window on the side facing away from the road and helped Sheridan climb through before following.
Inside, the house smelled of stale air and old carpet. Dust covered the furniture, and the refrigerator hummed emptily in the kitchen. No one had been here in a while, if he had to guess.
But they needed to confirm first.
They checked the place.
It was empty.
“Perfect.” Maverick positioned himself at a front window that gave them a clear view of Sheridan’s rental. “Now we wait and see if anyone comes calling.”
CHAPTER 22
Sheridan settled beside Maverick at the window, her heart still racing from their relocation.
Part of her wondered if they were being overly paranoid. But the larger part—the part trained in federal law enforcement—knew that paranoia kept you alive.
“Did you recognize either of those names the men said?” Maverick asked. “Jensen and Martinez?”
She shook her head. “No idea. They don’t sound familiar to me.”
They’d been watching for almost an hour when she saw them.
Three dark figures moved through the shadows around her rental house with the same professional stealth they’d encountered at the fishing cottage.
Her breath caught in her throat. “Maverick.”
“I see them.”
He sat beside her at the window, close enough that she could feel the tension radiating from his body. His jaw was set in that focused way she was beginning to recognize—the same expression he’d worn when defusing the situation on the beach.
Even in the dim light, she saw his eyes tracking the movement below with the sharp awareness of someone who’d learned to assess threats in combat zones. His hands rested on the windowsill, steady despite everything they’d been through.
She found herself oddly reassured by his calm competence.
She watched as the men surrounded the house. One covered the back exit while two approached the front door. They moved like a coordinated unit, like people who’d done this many times before.
“If we’d stayed . . .” she whispered.
“We’d be dead,” Maverick finished with a frown.
The men disappeared inside the rental house, and Sheridan found herself holding her breath. She had no doubt those guys were searching for any clue about where she and Maverick might have gone.
But what if they were doing more than just searching? What if they were planting surveillance equipment—listening devices, cameras, GPS trackers?
The implications multiplied in her mind like a virus.
“They could be planting bugs,” she whispered to Maverick.
He nodded. “We have to assume that house is completely compromised now.”
The rental house that was supposed to be her safe base of operations had just become a trap waiting to spring on anyone who trusted it.
After several minutes that felt like hours, the figures emerged from the house. They gathered on the front porch, close enough that Sheridan could catch fragments of their conversation.
