Page 13 of Rogue Hope
God, keep her safe. Let them follow me instead of staying here. Let me draw the danger away from her.
Seven years ago, he’d been the villain, using her for his own illegal ends, choosing mission over morality, loyalty to Cipher over love for her. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
Even if it cost him his life.
8
Sweat trickleddown the sides of Finn’s face from a heat the thin summer breeze couldn’t touch. Cedar Street offered only temporary cover. His pursuers would reacquire him within seconds, their coordinated search pattern designed to eliminate escape routes systematically. He needed to create distance quickly while remaining unpredictable.
The sounds of the parade provided auditory cover as he increased his pace to a controlled run, taking a zigzag path through residential backyards. Each property offered momentary concealment but also potential witnesses or security cameras Cipher could access later.
A quick glance at his watch confirmed it was nearly noon. The holiday crowd would be moving toward the town park for the post-parade festivities, creating both obstacles and opportunities. Large gatherings provided excellent cover but limited mobility and escape options.
He vaulted a low fence and cut across a side yard, emerging onto yet another pine-lined lane. The street was mostly deserted, residents either at the parade or watching from front porches several blocks over. The female operative appeared at the far end of the street.
Finn ducked behind a garden shed, checking his immediate surroundings before pulling out his phone. He needed information on Zara’s location. If he could confirm she was safely surrounded by her team, he could focus entirely on drawing the pursuit away from Hope Landing.
The phone’s screen remained blank. Dead. Not battery failure—he’d charged it fully that morning. The device had been remotely disabled, a sophisticated countermeasure that confirmed what he already suspected. These weren’t ordinary mercenaries. They had access to advanced technology and electronic warfare capabilities.
A twig snapped behind him. He pivoted, dropping to a crouch in one fluid motion. The third operative—the big dude—had approached from an unexpected angle, moving with surprising stealth for his size. His right hand drifted toward a concealed weapon.
“Novak,” the man said, his voice carrying a faint Eastern European accent. “This doesn’t need to get messy.”
The man’s weight distribution suggested formal combat training—possibly Spetsnaz or similar special forces background.
“You’ve had quite a run,” the operative continued, maintaining a cautious distance. “Seven years of interference. The boss is impressed, actually. Wants to talk.”
“I’ll bet,” Finn replied, his voice deliberately calm. “Tell Cipher I’m not interested in a reunion.”
The operative’s expression flickered briefly—surprise, quickly masked. Interesting. He hadn’t expected Finn to confirm knowledge of his employer so readily.
“You’ve misunderstood the invitation,” the man said, shifting his weight subtly. “It’s not optional.”
Finn registered movement in his peripheral vision—the female operative approaching from the left, the man in theblue shirt from the right. They were boxing him in, using the playground equipment to limit his escape options. Three against one, in broad daylight, with potential civilian witnesses nearby.
Not ideal odds.
“Take him,” the heavyset man ordered.
The woman came in low, targeting his knees, while Blue Shirt aimed higher, going for a chokehold. The heavyset man remained out of reach, overseeing the capture.
Standard operating procedure.
Finn dropped to the ground, causing the woman to miss her target, then rolled sideways as Blue Shirt’s momentum carried him forward. In the same motion, he hooked his foot around the woman’s ankle, using her own forward momentum to unbalance her.
The resulting collision between the two operatives bought him precious seconds. He sprinted toward a narrow gap between the playground and a chain-link fence. But the heavyset man reacted quickly, drawing a weapon—not a firearm but something that looked like a specialized taser.
Non-lethal capture equipment. They wanted him alive.
Finn dove through the gap, feeling the crackle of electricity as the taser probes missed him by inches. He landed hard on his injured ribs, the pain immediate and intense, but adrenaline kept him moving. Rolling to his feet, he sprinted toward the community center, where the holiday festivities would provide temporary cover.
As Finn rounded the corner of the center, the sounds of celebration engulfed him. A band played patriotic music while children raced about with sparklers and flags. Adults gathered in groups, many holding plates of barbecue and cups of lemonade.
He slowed his steps and his breathing, adjusting his body language to match the relaxed, festive atmosphere. He snaggedan abandoned baseball cap from a bench, donning it as he moved deeper into the gathering. The hat and his reversed jacket created a significantly different silhouette, potentially buying him valuable seconds.
A group of teenagers moved past, laughing and jostling each other. Finn fell in step beside them, matching their pace and energy, allowing their youthful exuberance to provide additional cover as he scanned for his pursuers.
There—the woman had positioned herself near the band, her eyes methodically sweeping the crowd. Blue Shirt was by the refreshment tables, his casual posture belied by the focused intensity of his gaze. No sign of the heavyset man, which concerned Finn more than if he’d been visible. The leader was likely coordinating from a higher vantage point.
