Page 118 of Critical Mass
“Now you get to watch everything play out,” Dimitri said. “You wanted to flee the area before the attack? Instead, you’ll have front-row seats. By tomorrow morning, tens of thousands will be dead.”
Bile rose in Natalie’s throat. “You’re insane. My father would never?—”
“Your father already did! His shipping company. His routes. His contacts. His warehouse. All the pieces are in place, and Padrone simply . . . borrowed them.” Dimitri smiled coldly. “The Americans will spend years blaming Richard Ravenscroft while the real architects of Sigma disappear.”
“Padrone?” Natalie asked.
“Our leader.”
The helicopter descended toward the port, where Natalie could now see activity—men unloading drums from a ship, with vehicles positioned strategically. It was the organized chaos of an operation in motion.
“Please.” Her father’s voice wavered with desperation. “Not Natalie. Whatever you’re planning to do with me, let her go. She’s innocent in this.”
“No one is innocent.” The helicopter touched down on a cleared area near the pier. “Besides, Padrone wants you both here. Wants you to see what your betrayal has cost. Wants your daughter to watch you realize you failed to protect her after all.”
“Who is this Padrone guy?” Natalie asked. “What’s his name?”
Dimitri smirked. “You’ll see.”
“Are you with Sigma?” she continued.
“I think you already know that answer.”
Yes, Natalie thought. He was definitely Sigma.
The rotors began to slow. Through the window, Natalie saw armed men approaching.
And there, waiting at the base of the pier, stood a thirtysomething man in expensive clothes. Even from a distance, Natalie could see the cruel satisfaction on his face.
Padrone . . . that had to be him. Sigma’s leader had come here himself to make sure this plan worked.
She squinted as the man came closer. Something about him seemed familiar.
No . . . it couldn’t be. Was it?
“Is that . . .?” she started. “Is that Jonathan Rutter?”
“Jonathan?” her dad repeated. “That’s not Jonathan.”
As he continued closer, his features became clearer. “It most certainly is. He’s the man I went on that date with, the one you encouraged me to go out with.”
“Then you went out with the wrong man. That man is a sales consultant.”
The blood drain from Natalie’s face.
If that wasn’t Jonathan, then who was he? Probably Padrone, but beyond that? He was definitely more than a sales consultant.
An idea slammed into her mind.
Could this be the man Hudson had mentioned? The one he’d seen in the office? He’d called him Brass.
He fit the description—minus the beard. His face was now clean-shaven.
As the man continued his slow stride toward them, Natalie turned back to Dimitri. “The attack is happening tomorrow, isn’t it? You’re loading these chemicals into vehicles to disperse the nerve agent more widely.”
“Unfortunately, we’ve had to move the timeline up. We’ve equipped the vans with a special machine that will mix and disperse the chemical. It will really be quite efficient.”
“You can’t do this! Too many innocent lives will be lost.”
