Page 96 of Ground Zero
“And kill Sarah.” His stomach twisted as the words left his lips.
“I never meant to kill her. I had no idea.” Kyle’s voice cracked. “By then, I was in deep. They had me under their thumb, and I couldn’t say no to whatever they asked.”
“You don’t strike me as someone who’s being manipulated,” Sheridan said.
“I suppose that over time I began to see things their way,” Kyle said. “It doesn’t mean I don’t have some regrets.”
Maverick stepped closer. “So let me get this straight. First, you kill Sarah and somehow arrange for Brass to walk away,making everyone think he was dead. Then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, you try to frame me. Why? How?”
His voice barely contained his anger.
“They told me what to do. Said if I didn’t do it they would kill my parents. They even sent me pictures of them to let me know they were serious. I had no choice!”
“There’s always a choice!”
Sheridan moved. While Kyle’s attention was on Maverick, she struck fast—her hand clamping down on his wrist, forcing his thumb to stay pressed on the dead man’s switch while simultaneously driving her knee into his side.
Kyle grunted, trying to twist away, but Maverick was already there, helping to pin Kyle’s hand in place.
“Let go, and we all die!” Kyle gasped.
“Then don’t let go,” Maverick said.
Together, he and Sheridan forced Kyle to his knees, keeping his thumb pressed on the trigger.
“Sheridan, tape!”
She grabbed duct tape from a nearby crate, and they wrapped it around Kyle’s hand and the detonator, ensuring the trigger stayed depressed even without Kyle’s cooperation.
“There.” Maverick zip tied Kyle’s other hand to a pipe. “That’ll hold for a few minutes.”
Kyle let out a bitter laugh. “You’re just delaying the inevitable. The timer’s already running inside the devices. Ten minutes from when I activated them, remember?”
“Then we’d better move fast.” Maverick turned to Sheridan. “The boat. We load the explosives on the boat, get the bombs away from populated areas.”
“That’s suicide—” Sheridan started.
“It’s the only way. I don’t have time to defuse them all.” He already moved toward the crates. “Get the boat ready.”
Sheridan ran for the door while Maverick began dragging crates toward the loading dock. The boxes were heavy, and his ribs screamed with each movement. But adrenaline kept him going.
Outside, Sheridan had the boat ready to go. They began loading the crates, handling each carefully.
One wrong move . . .
He shook his head, knowing he couldn’t dwell on that right now.
“We’ve only got five minutes,” Sheridan said.
The last crate hit the deck.
Maverick jumped aboard, and Sheridan gunned the engines.
The boat lurched away from the dock.
“Four minutes!” Maverick shouted. “Get us as far from shore as possible!”
The boat screamed across the water, engines at full throttle.
