Page 72 of Rogue Hope
“I need five minutes with Zara,” he said quietly. “Alone.”
Axel laughed. “Negative, dude. No. Way.”
“Zara.” Just her name. A plea.
She felt Ronan tense beside her, waiting.
“Lock him down,” she ordered, turning away. “I’ll complete the report.”
She marched from the room, each step carefully measured despite the bone-deep fatigue settling in. Only in her office did she allow the mask to slip.
Sinking into her chair, Zara dropped her head into her hands. The pain was unmistakable now. She fumbled through her desk drawer for medication, swallowing the pills dry.
Lord, give me clarity. Please.
Her computer chimed. Harrison Reynolds’ ID flashed on screen.
Taking a steadying breath, she accepted the call. Reynolds appeared, silver hair perfectly styled, expression pleased.
“Zara. Excellent work in Malaysia.” His voice carried that particular warmth he reserved for his protégés. “Just got confirmation that Novak is in custody.”
“Yes, sir.” Formality helped maintain distance. Helped her think. “The evidence was conclusive.”
“As I knew it would be.” Reynolds’ smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Your analytical skills were always exceptional. He picked the wrong agent to retarget.”
Zara nodded, uncomfortable with praise that once would have meant everything. Reynolds had been her mentor, the one who believed in her when others questioned her capabilities. His confidence had shaped her career.
“I’m sending additional files,” Reynolds continued. “Final pieces connecting Novak to Phoenix. We’ll need them for the official record.”
“Of course.” Zara hesitated. “Sir, the evidence we’ve gathered—it’s comprehensive, but?—”
“But you’re wondering if I’ve been too thorough?” Reynolds finished, his smile knowing. “Second thoughts are natural, Zara, especially given your history with the subject. Remember, men like Novak are masters of deception. Your personal connection is precisely what he tried to exploit.”
The words hit uncomfortably close to her own doubts.
“I understand, sir.”
“I’ll be in touch.” Reynolds nodded. “And Zara? Well done. Truly.”
The connection terminated, leaving Zara staring at her reflection in the blank screen. Why did his praise leave her cold?
She pulled up the case files, reviewing them for the hundredth time. Server logs. Financial transactions. Communications. All pointing to Finn as Cipher’s operative.
Yet something nagged at her. A pattern too perfect. A trail too easy to follow once she knew where to look.
She zoomed in on a server access timestamp. July 17, 0214 hours.
That server should have been offline from 0200 to 0330.
A simple error? Clock syncing issues happened all the time.
Or something more?
Her fingers flew across the keyboard despite growing stiffness. If there was one discrepancy, there might be others.
Three hours later, her suspicions had snowballed. Three more timestamp anomalies. A financial transaction processed during a banking holiday. Communications that matched known Cipher patterns too perfectly, as if deliberately mimicking them.
The pain behind her eyes intensified as her hands and arms protested hours of typing. She needed rest, needed clarity.
