Page 53 of Rogue Hope
Whatever happened next, he’d protect Zara with his life.
27
The secure phonevibrated against the nightstand, jolting Zara awake.
Almost dawn. She reached for the phone.
Harrison’s encrypted signal pattern. Heart racing, she answered.
“You survived,” Harrison’s voice was relief wrapped in tension. “Good. Reports suggested casualties at Phoenix.”
“We made it out,” she whispered, glancing at the bedroom door, ensuring it remained closed between her and where Finn slept on the couch. “Barely.”
“Someone knew you were coming,” Harrison said, not a question but an accusation.
Zara’s hand tightened on the phone. “Affirmative. The building was rigged to blow.”
A weighted pause hung between them. Then: “How confident are you in Novak’s loyalties?”
The question hit like ice water. “What exactly are you implying?”
“Nothing specific.” The familiar voice softened into the paternal tone that had guided her career. “But the timing is ... troubling. You reconnect with Novak, there’s a bomb.”
“He wasinsidewith me,” she insisted, though doubt crept at the edges of her certainty. “He saved my life.”
“Of course he did,” Harrison replied with practiced smoothness. “Not suggesting he planned it. But his presence creates vulnerabilities. Information travels.”
Pain flared—sharp, demanding attention. Bad timing. She pressed her palm against the mattress, focusing on the solid surface as the room tilted slightly.
“I’m worried about you, Mockingbird. This operation’s gone from complex to lethal. Consider reading in additional assets?”
“We’re handling it,” she managed, even as her fingers stiffened painfully. “I’ll update when I have more.”
His voice dropped lower. “Don’t forget. Loyalty to others should never outweigh commitment to truth.”
Fair enough. But where, exactly, was the truth?
The call ended, leaving her staring at the blank screen. Betrayal twisted in her stomach—not from the old spymaster’s suspicions, but from her own flickering doubt about Finn.
Which pricked her with guilt. After everything they’d been through, how could she question him now?
She tried to stand, needing her medication from her go-bag across the room. Her legs buckled immediately, sending her back onto the bed. Punishment for yesterday’s trauma and stress.
“Notnow,” she whispered.
A soft knock at the door. “Zara?” Finn’s voice, alert despite sleep’s roughness.
She straightened despite screaming muscles. “I’m fine.”
The door opened anyway. Finn took one assessing look at her rigid posture, her white-knuckled grip on the mattress. “Medication in your bag?”
The simple question—no pity, just practicality—broke through her defenses. She nodded once.
He retrieved her go-bag and placed it beside her.
She fished out her meds from the hidden compartment with trembling fingers.
As she swallowed the pills, Finn leaned against the dresser, maintaining distance. “We need to talk about how you got that intel pointing to Phoenix.”
