Page 119 of Critical Mass
Dimitri grinned. “And you’ll both be here to experience it. To understand that all your father’s attempts to stop Sigma accomplished nothing except ensuring his own daughter would die alongside thousands of others.”
The helicopter’s door opened, and cold air rushed in, carrying the smell of diesel fuel and chemicals.
Dimitri gestured with his weapon. “Out. Both of you. Don’t make me shoot you before Padrone has his chance to gloat.”
Natalie’s father met her eyes, and she saw devastation there.
All his secrets, all his suspicious behavior—he’d been in too deep.
He’d wanted to protect her. Instead, he’d inadvertently led his daughter directly into the attack zone.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered as armed men surrounded them. “Natalie, I’m so sorry.”
But sorry wouldn’t stop the vehicles from dispersing this nerve agent. Sorry wouldn’t save the thousands of people about to die.
And sorry wouldn’t change the fact that she and her father were now hostages at ground zero of a terrorist attack, with no way out and no one coming to save them.
Jake killed the SUV’s lights as they continued to assess the situation.
Hudson stared at the area in front of them.
The commercial port sprawled across hundreds of acres—massive container yards, towering cranes, ships the size of city blocks.
“There.” Maverick pointed toward Pier 19. “A helicopter just landed.”
Hudson leaned forward from the back seat, his eyes scanning the scene. The helicopter sat on a cleared area near the pier, cockpit dark and empty. But surrounding it were vehicles that didn’t belong—white commercial vans and men darting between shipping containers.
“Count?” Jake asked.
“At least six vans that I can see,” Atlas said, adjusting the tactical binoculars. “Probably more we can’t see. And I’m counting twelve armed men. The scene is organized. This is definitely the target location.”
Hudson’s phone buzzed. Colton.
10 minutes out. Hold steady.
Ten minutes. They’d already burned ten minutes getting here, and Colton’s team was still ten minutes away.
That meant Natalie had been at the mercy of whoever was running this operation for twenty minutes.
Resolve hardened in his muscles. “We can’t wait.”
“I know,” Jake replied. “Which is why we’re gearing up.”
Atlas was already pulling weapons from the tactical bags in the back—rifles, spare magazines, body armor. He tossed a vest to Hudson.
“Perimeter fence looks standard chain-link,” Atlas observed. “Guard station at the main entrance, but there’s a service gate on the north side. Probably our best entry point.”
“K9 units?” Hudson strapped on the vest despite the protest from his bruised ribs.
“Negative.” Jake checked his weapon, chambered a round.
Hudson grabbed the rifle Atlas offered him, the familiar weight settling something in his chest. He wasn’t unarmed anymore. Wasn’t alone.
“Okay,” Jake said. “We go in quiet and establish positions.”
“And if quiet doesn’t work?” Atlas asked.
“Then we make enough noise to keep them distracted until Colton arrives with the cavalry.” Hudson met both men’s eyes. “But either way, we’ve got to stop this.”
