Page 42 of Rogue Hope
“Yeah, we do. Cipher needs us,” she continued. “He won’t risk eliminating us until he gets what he wants.”
“That’s a dangerous assumption. Cipher doesn’t follow predictable patterns.”
“Neither do I,” she countered. “I’ve acquired new intel. Possible leads.”
“What intelligence? From whom?”
“My own research,” she lied. “Two locations showing Cipher’s signature—Portland, and Vancouver.”
“And you discovered this through ... research,” Finn said skeptically.
“You should try it sometime,” she suggested coolly. “Oh no. Wait. I forgot. Your idea of research is lying to get what you want.”
He shook his head. “How about we table the discussion of my faults until after we take Cipher down. Back to the present. If you’re receiving intelligence from outside sources?—”
“My sources are my concern. The intelligence is solid.”
Ronan’s voice interrupted from down the corridor. “Everything all right up there?”
Finn nodded. “Just reviewing security plans. We’re fine.”
“It’s late,” Ronan observed meaningfully.
“I’ll coordinate with Deke about these locations tomorrow,” Finn said. “Get some rest.”
“Always the concerned partner,” she replied with unexpected bite.
He flinched slightly. “Whatever happened in Paris doesn’t change the fact that Cipher is dangerous beyond imagination. Be careful who you trust.”
The irony wasn’t lost on her. “Always,” she assured him before closing the door.
Alone again, Zara processed the conflicting warnings from both men—each speaking with conviction, each claiming to have her best interests at heart.
Luckily, Harrison was as good as his word. He’d already sent an encrypted email. Just two lines:
Possible infiltrationinto mothballed CIA safe house.
Phoenix.
She moved to the desk and began digging. Her body demanded rest, but her mind refused to settle. Whatever game was being played, she refused to be merely a piece on the board.
This time, she’d write her own rules of engagement.
22
Dawn light filteredthrough Knight Tactical’s polarized windows, casting the tech center in that peculiar blue glow Zara had come to associate with early-morning investigations. She’d dressed and headed down the hallway at five, needing solitude to process the intel Harrison had offered before the day’s inevitable complications.
Her fingers moved deftly across the holographic interface, sorting satellite imagery of the three suspect locations. Each motion sent tiny sparks of pain through her wrists—yesterday’s beach volleyball extracting its price despite Kenji’s carefully calibrated des. The lake party seemed a distant memory now, its carefree moments eclipsed by the gravity of what her source had shared.
“You started without me.”
Finn’s voice carried from the doorway. She didn’t turn, having recognized his footsteps before he spoke.
“Coffee’s fresh,” she replied, gesturing vaguely toward the station in the corner where Griffin’s imported blend awaited. Another of Knight Tactical’s small luxuries that had once seemed frivolous but now represented a sliver of normalcy in their abnormal lives.
Finn poured himself a cup in one of the specialized ceramic mugs designed to minimize heat signatures—practical paranoia elevated to an art form at Knight Tactical.
Or as she and Maya called it, “Boys and their toys.” Though, truth be told, Izzy the master mechanic was the most enthusiastic gadget hoarder of them all.
