Page 43 of Deadly Hope (Hope Landing: New Recruits #2)

Axel kept his breathing steady, gun trained on Driscoll even as his mind raced through scenarios, each worse than the last. Deke was down, pulse steady but completely out.

The tranq dart had been professional grade—exactly what he’d expect from someone with Voss’s record. The background they’d found, anyway.

“You should see your faces,” Driscoll said, tapping something on his phone before setting it on his desk. His smile hadn’t wavered. “Especially you, Reinhardt. All that tactical genius, and you never saw it coming.”

Axel struggled not to wince as the ugly pieces clicked into place. He eyed the motherly-looking woman with disgust. “You’ve been feeding them intel since you started stalking Olivia.”

“Obviously.” Voss’s voice was different now. Harder. She kept her weapon trained on him with practiced ease, but something in her stance nagged at him.

Axel caught the flash of raw fury in Olivia’s eyes at the woman’s casual tone .

Something flickered across Voss’s face—too quick to read, but enough to make Axel’s neck prickle.

Through his earpiece, Griff’s voice crackled, “Lobby’s locked down, but we’ve got hostiles coming up from the parking structure. Armed. Look like private military.”

Driscoll clearly read something in Axel’s expression. “Did you think I wouldn’t have backup? This is Washington. Money buys all kinds of security.”

“Two teams converging on your floor from the stairwells,” Zara reported, tension bleeding through her professional tone. “Heavy weapons. These aren’t rent-a-cops.”

Voss shifted slightly, adjusting her aim. For a fraction of a second, her stance opened up—a rookie mistake no one with her training should make.

“Working on override for elevator lockdown,” Ronan said, his voice tight with concentration. “But their crypto’s solid. Gonna take time.”

Voss’s finger tightened on the trigger—but something was off about the motion. Axel had seen her shoot before. This wasn’t her normal grip.

“I’ve got eyes on snipers setting up across the street,” Izzy cut in. “Three positions, high-end gear. Griff’s in position to handle them. For now.”

Driscoll checked his phone again, satisfaction evident. “Right on schedule. Now, shall we discuss terms? Or would you prefer to wait for my security team to arrive and make this unnecessarily messy?”

Voss shifted again, this time placing herself between Driscoll and his desk drawer. Another mistake too convenient to be real. Axel kept his weapon steady, mind racing. What was her play here?

Through his earpiece, Griff’s voice crackled with urgency. “You’ve got two minutes, tops. They’re flooding the building. ”

Driscoll kept talking, savoring each word. “It really was elegant, you know. James was so focused on the big picture he never noticed the small details. Like how certain information only leaked after passing through his trusted colleague’s hands.”

“You should check your secured servers,” Voss said, her voice razor-sharp. “The ones in Zurich? Geneva? Every piece of evidence James collected, everything I’ve gathered since—it’s all broadcasting right now to every agency he flagged.”

Driscoll’s expression morphed from smug to feral in an instant. He lunged for his laptop, fingers flying across the keys. “No, no, no ...”

“Hostiles breaching the floor!” Zara’s warning crackled through comms.

Driscoll straightened slowly, a dangerous calm settling over him. “Then you’d better cancel that transmission, Margaret, if you want Dr. Kane to live.” His weapon swung toward Olivia.

Axel started to shift, but Driscoll’s backup chose that moment to fire through the windows.

The shot caught his weapon, sending it spinning away.

Pain exploded through his hand—not a direct hit, but close enough to send nerve endings screaming.

He dove behind a leather armchair as glass rained down.

His fingers wouldn’t work right. Like Kandahar all over again.

No. Not now. Focus. Olivia was less than twenty feet away, no cover between her and Driscoll’s weapon.

The memories tried to crowd in—blood on sand, the sound of choppers, someone screaming his name—but he forced them back. Had to move. Had to reach her.

“This isn’t going to work, Margaret,” Driscoll snarled, keeping his aim steady on Olivia. “You really think?—”

“Think?” Voss’s laugh was cold. “I’ve been planning this since Prague. Since you made me watch James die. It’s too late to stop it.”

Axel pushed himself up, ignoring the numbness spreading up his arm. Three steps to the weapon. Maybe four. Not enough time. Never enough time.

Driscoll’s face contorted. His finger tightened on the trigger.

Olivia’s eyes met Axel’s across the room. In that fraction of a second, he saw everything they’d never said to each other.

“No!” Voss shouted, shoving Olivia aside.

The sound of the shot was deafening in the enclosed space. But Olivia didn’t crumple. It was Voss who staggered backwards, red blooming across her chest.

Voss who crumpled to the floor.

“The evidence is out there now,” Voss gasped, one hand pressed to her chest. “You’ve lost, Bing.”

Pistol at his side now, Driscoll stared at the two women, blinking in shock.

Driscoll’s phone buzzed. His face went ash-white as he read whatever was on the screen. Outside, sirens began to wail.

“FBI’s moving in,” Voss whispered, her voice thready. “DOJ too.”

“Shut up!” Driscoll roared. His weapon swung between Olivia and Axel, eyes wild. “Nobody moves. We’re all walking out of here together, or?—”

Multiple shots erupted from the hallway. Kenji’s voice cut through their comms. “In position. East stairwell secured.”

“West stairwell clear,” Ronan added. “But not for long.”

Driscoll swore and backed toward the private exit at the back of his inner office, weapon still trained on Olivia. “Don’t try to follow. This door locks behind me.” Attention still on Olivia, he raised his phone to his lips. “Get the helicopter here. Now.”

If Driscoll escaped now, he’d disappear forever. But Voss’s breathing was becoming more labored, blood pooling beneath her.

“Your call,” Axel said to Olivia, keeping his voice steady. “But we’re losing her.”

A heartbeat of silence. Then Olivia’s voice, ice-cold. “Go,” she ordered Driscoll. “But this isn’t over.”

Driscoll’s smile was savage as he backed through the door. “It never is.”

The moment the door clicked shut, Axel was moving. He stripped off his jacket, pressing it against Voss’s wound.

“Status?” Griff demanded through comms.

“Driscoll’s running,” Axel replied. “But we’ve got something better.” He looked down at Voss, who was struggling to stay conscious. “We’ve got proof. And a witness.”

“If ...” Voss coughed, blood staining her lips. “If I live that long.”

“Medevac, two minutes out,” Zara reported.

Olivia knelt beside them, her expression unreadable. “Why?” she asked Voss. “Why take the bullet?”

“Because,” Voss whispered, “James was right about one thing. The truth ... the truth matters more than revenge.”

The sound of helicopter rotors grew louder. Axel’s hands shook as he pressed harder against the woman’s wound, but his eyes were fixed on Olivia. She was alive. Dear sweet Lord, she was alive. The prayer of gratitude that rose in his throat was wordless, primal—just his heart crying out in thanks.

Voss’s pulse faded. He’d seen too many people die to miss the signs. She wasn’t going to make it. But in this moment, all he could feel was overwhelming relief that the bullet hadn’t found Olivia .

And somewhere in the city, evidence of Driscoll’s crimes was spreading like wildfire through every agency database in Washington.