Page 67 of Rogue Hope
She shook her head. Focus. Harrison’s reputation—his life—hung in the balance.
Three hours passed as she methodically dissected the digital evidence, following breadcrumbs through encrypted channels and hidden directories. This, at least, she understood—the clean logic of digital forensics, where patterns either existed or didn’t.
Deep in a tracing protocol, something caught her attention—a hidden subroutine buried in the authentication logs. She pulled the thread, heart quickening. This could be it—the key that unlocked everything.
For the next hour, she worked feverishly, following the digital path deeper into the system architecture. With each layer she peeled back, her excitement grew. The subroutine appeared to be a sophisticated trap designed to falsify access records—exactly the kind of tool someone would use to frame Harrison.
Zara sat back, a smile breaking across her face. This was it. Proof that Harrison had been set up.
And Finn had led her to it.
Maybe she’d been wrong about him. Maybe his conversion was real. The thought warmed her in ways she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in years.
She dug deeper, tracking the subroutine to its source code. If she could identify who planted it, they’d have their Cipher mole. Just a few more?—
Her fingers froze on the keyboard.
There, embedded in the code signature, was an authentication key she recognized. A unique digital thumbprint she’d seen only once before.
In Paris. Seven years ago. On Finn’s encrypted laptop.
No. There had to be a mistake.
Heart pounding, she initiated a more comprehensive analysis. The timestamp inconsistency she’d noticed earlier now took on new significance. She dismantled the file structure, piece by piece.
What she found froze her blood.
The metadata contained impossible time signatures—modifications made when the server was verifiably offline for maintenance. It was the kind of detail that would escape most analysis, but it confirmed her suspicion. The evidence against Harrison had been artificially constructed and planted.
By the very person claiming to help clear him.
Zara’s hands trembled as she initiated a new search algorithm, focusing on the digital pathway that had led Finn to the evidence. If he had stumbled upon it during legitimate investigation, the access logs would show a logical progression. If he had known where to look ...
The results appeared. The blood drained from her face.
The access pattern was impossibly precise—a direct path to hidden information that should have required weeks to uncover. No false starts. No dead ends. No exploratory searches.
Finn had gone straight to the fabricated evidence as if he’d known exactly where to find it.
Because he had.
Heart pounding, Zara expanded her investigation, following digital threads connecting Finn’s secure communications during the past year. Most were encrypted beyond her immediate ability to crack, but the transmission patterns told their own story: regular communications with an entity using Cipher routing protocols. Encrypted data packets sent just before key Cipher operations. A suspicious communication gap that aligned perfectly with his “spiritual awakening” narrative.
Finn Novak wasn’t hunting Cipher.
He was working with him.
36
The realization hitZara with physical force, emptying her lungs. She gripped the desk edge as the room tilted.
She verified her findings three separate ways, desperately seeking an alternative explanation. Each additional piece of evidence only reinforced the horrifying conclusion. Finn had orchestrated this entire operation, using her to lead him to sensitive information while framing Harrison.
The betrayal was so complete, so perfectly executed, she almost admired its artistry. He had played her masterfully—the confession of past wrongdoing, the religious conversion, the gradual trust-building. All calculated manipulation.
And she had fallen for it.
Again.
