Page 87 of Critical Mass
And trying not to remember that kiss.
Trying not to wonder what it would be like if any of this were real.
The Ravenscroft estate felt different this time, Hudson mused. Less like a showpiece and more like a fortress. Security personnel patrolled the grounds, cameras tracked every approach, and Hudson counted at least six armed guards between the front gate and the house.
Richard Ravenscroft showed them to their rooms—separate rooms on opposite ends of the same wing. Proper and protective? Or strategic positioning to keep them apart?
“Dimitri will be posted at the front door,” Ravenscroft said as he paused with Hudson outside his room. “If you need anything, just ask. Brunch is at eleven.”
His words sounded like an invitation, but they felt like house arrest.
Hudson waited until he heard Ravenscroft’s footsteps fade down the hallway before pulling out his phone as it buzzed.
A text came in from Colton.
Call ASAP. Secure line.
Hudson moved to the bathroom, turned on the shower for noise cover, and dialed.
“The bug worked,” Colton said without preamble. “We’ve been listening to Ravenscroft’s calls all evening. The Dubai shipment is arriving at Warehouse 7 tomorrow night—Thursday. Final inspection scheduled for Friday morning.”
Hudson’s pulse quickened. “What’s in the shipment?”
“He spoke in code, but we’re nearly certain it’s chemical precursors. Individually legal, but when combined, they create a weaponized compound. We’re talking mass casualty potential if deployed in a populated area.”
“Target?”
“Everything we suspected seems to be confirmed. The Norfolk area. The timing suggests Friday rush hour. There will be maximum civilian casualties and maximum economic impact.”
Hudson closed his eyes. This was it. Confirmation that Richard Ravenscroft was planning a terrorist attack.
“We’re raiding the warehouse Thursday evening,” Colton continued. “Before the inspection, before they can move the materials. We’ll catch them in the act, seize the chemicals, and bring down the whole operation.”
“One way or another, this stops tomorrow night.”
The call ended, and Hudson stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.
Twenty-four hours. That was all they had left.
Tomorrow night, Blackout would raid Warehouse 7. They’d seize the chemicals, and either Ravenscroft would be there—confirming his guilt—or he wouldn’t, leaving questions that might never be answered.
Either way, Natalie’s world would shatter completely.
Hudsonshouldfeel satisfied. They had the intelligence they needed. The mission was nearly complete. He’d done his job.
But all he felt was hollow dread at what tomorrow would cost the woman he loved.
He wanted to go to her. To tell her everything—about the bug, the raid, the chemicals. To give her a chance to prepare for what was coming.
But he couldn’t. Not yet. Not until she was safe and clear and away from her father’s reach.
So he’d stay.
He’d maintain his cover.
He’d protect her for one more day.
Then he’d watch her heart break when she learned the truth about both of the men in her life.
