Page 111 of Critical Mass
Wrong.
The area they drove through was eerily quiet compared to the bustling activity in the other parts of the terminal.
No workers. No other vehicles except her father’s security convoy.
Just empty pavement stretching toward a clear area marked with a white H.
A helipad.
A sick feeling gurgled in her stomach.
She was out of options right now.
“Dad, please,” Natalie said from the back seat where Dimitri sat beside her, his presence a wall she couldn’t escape. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s really happening.”
“I’m protecting you.” Her father’s voice from the front seat was firm. “That’s all you need to know.”
“By taking me to Italy against my will? This isn’t protection—it’s kidnapping.”
“Watch your tone, young lady.”
The car stopped near the helipad, and Natalie saw the helicopter approaching from the east—sleek, private, expensive.
Her father’s escape plan, his way of getting away from here before the chemical attack. His way of saving himself while thousands of others suffered.
Dimitri opened her door and waited for Natalie to climb out.
She had no choice. Dimitri’s hand rested on his hip, the outline of a weapon beneath his jacket.
She was trapped. Surrounded by her father’s security at a private terminal with no witnesses, about to be flown out of the country.
But maybe—maybe she could still stop whatever was happening. Still prevent Critical Mass.
After all, how could she live with herself if she knew this was going to happen, if she knew she’d been saved while others suffered?
She couldn’t play dumb anymore. It was her only move.
CHAPTER
SIXTY-TWO
Hudson forcedhis legs to move, to run toward shore even though every step felt like his knees might give out.
The dock stretched endlessly ahead of him—fifty yards of exposed wooden planking with no cover, no concealment, nothing but open air and water on either side.
He was a perfect target.
“Stop or we’ll shoot!” another voice called, closer now.
Hudson didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.
If he stopped, that shipment would come early and his teammates wouldn’t know to stop it. If he stopped, Natalie would disappear to Italy or wherever Ravenscroft was really taking her, and Hudson would never reach her in time. Not that he really thought her father would hurt her. But others around him might.
He heard the distinctive sound of a weapon being drawn, a safety clicking off.
Twenty yards to shore. Then fifteen.
Hudson zigzagged, making himself a harder target. Ravenscroft had said to leave him in the boathouse, not to kill him.
