attention back on Sydney. He noticed that she was dressed in Declan Drake’s clothes. Did that mean that Drake was dead? Did Sydney really have it in her to kill the son-of-a-bitch? Nathan eyed her accomplice again. His weapon remained aimed squarely at Nathan’s heart. No, he thought. If Drake is dead, this is the guy who did it. By the looks of him, he could probably kill anyone without a hint of remorse.
Nathan wanted to stall for as long as possible. He hoped that after hearing the commotion on the phone, Anthony Fantroy had enough sense to try and contact Taber. Nathan wished that he had yelled when he first saw them and that one of the guards was on the grounds close by, but they had surprised him from behind. If he tried anything now, Sydney’s friend probably wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in his chest.
“What are you doing, Sydney? Who is this man?” Nathan asked.
Sydney ignored him. “I heard you on the phone, Nathan. Who were you talking to?” Nathan kept his mouth shut. Sydney grabbed the lapels of his shirt and glared at him, her eyes only inches from his. “Why in the hell are you trying to kill me, Nathan?”
Again, Nathan tried stalling. He sighed and looked down at his useless legs, lying like dead snakes underneath him. He always wanted to explain his actions to someone. He wanted to tell Sydney that his motives were altruistic, that The Group meant well for the entire planet, for the future of mankind. If he did, would she embrace their cause?
We are the only ones who have the power, Sydney. If you only knew. If you only had the slightest clue. Your entire view of the world, of your life as you know it, would be forever different. Could you handle something so big? Could any one person beyond The Group handle the truth?
Sydney’s eyes flashed at Nathan’s silence. “Where’s Joseph? What have you done with him?” Sydney yanked on his shirt so hard that she lifted him from his wheelchair. “Damn it, Nathan! I want answers, and I’m not asking again!”
Nathan looked up. It seemed to take forever for his eyes to travel up her elegant body until he met her stare. Her face was brimming with anger. Maybe Sydney Dumas did have it in her to cause another human being significant pain.
She let go of Nathan’s shirt and looked over at her accomplice. His eyes and his gun were firmly aimed at the conference room door. Then she turned back to Nathan and moved even closer to him. She gripped his wheelchair armrests and whispered. “I know what the lawsuit is really about, Nathan. I know who you really work for.”
He instantly tried to wipe away the shock that registered in his face, but he could see it in her hardened glare. His reaction had confirmed her guess about his loyalties.
Nathan’s eyes sagged in defeat. As his sight fell, he naturally focused on Sydney’s working legs. Even in Drake’s bulky cargo pants, Nathan saw the strength in those limber appendages. Those glorious legs that could take her anywhere she wanted to go.
“You don’t have to worry about Joseph any longer,” he whispered. He may not have had power in his body, but Nathan knew his words packed a punch.
Before Nathan could look back up to savor Sydney’s reaction, a faint noise echoed from outside the conference room door. He glanced toward it and saw the curved doorknob begin turning.
Sydney’s accomplice noticed it as well. He leveled his rifle at the door and, before saying a word, blasted two shots through it. Nathan instinctively flung himself underneath the conference table.
“Move! Back the way we came!” the man barked at Sydney.
He’s American , Nathan deduced from hearing his accent. Nathan remained on his stomach, but from his angle, he could see the lower half of Sydney’s body move. Her feet sped to the edge of the table and momentarily stopped before they changed directions. In an instant, she and the American were gone.
After a few dizzying moments, Nathan pulled himself out from