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36

FAMILIAR GROUND

Ronan strode into Knight Tactical’s ops center, deliberately taking a position at the far end of the conference table. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, late afternoon sun painted the valley in gold, a breathtaking view. He barely noticed.

His team filtered in behind him—Axel claiming the chair to his right, Kenji and Deke settling in across from them. The easy familiarity they’d developed over years of missions felt like a lifeline now. How many more times would they gather like this?

Once this op was over, they’d scatter. Back to their lives. Their homes. Their families. All the things he’d never managed to build.

Christian was already there with Ethan and Star, the three of them hunched over multiple screens. Jack and Austin disappeared to take a few hours with their families—something about their kids’ soccer tournament. Must be nice, having somewhere to go, someone waiting. Someone who mattered more than the next mission.

Zara and Izzy occupied their usual corner, heads bent over laptops. Griff lounged against the wall, his usual sardonic expression in place. “Nice of you to join us, boss.”

The nickname hit harder than usual. Once this was over ... what? Back to ferrying questionable cargo in a beaten-up plane? Starting over somewhere new? Alone?

Christian glanced up, his expression unreadable. Whatever tentative understanding they’d reached as brothers felt fragile in the fluorescent lights of the ops center. Another relationship he’d probably manage to screw up, given time.

Maya entered last, taking a seat near the door. The physical distance between them felt like miles. Good. That’s what he wanted.

Maybe if he reminded himself enough, he’d come to believe it.

A massive screen flickered to life, revealing Admiral Knight on what appeared to be his yacht’s bridge. Even at zero one hundred Mediterranean time, the man radiated energy that put Ronan’s exhausted team to shame. Behind him, moonlight silvered the calm waters, the night sky perfectly clear in that way unique to the Italian coast.

Ronan fought back another yawn. After thirty-six hours with no real sleep, the admiral’s alertness felt like a personal attack. Around the table, his team wasn’t faring much better. Even Christian had given up pretense, his third coffee of the hour going cold beside his laptop. But the admiral looked ready to take on the world, his intense focus a reminder of how he’d earned that fourth star.

“I’ve been trying to contact Buck Richardson since Jack clued me in on your latest intel. He’s gone dark,” Knight began without preamble, the time difference clearly irrelevant to his concerns. The tension in his face stood out sharply in the bridge’s low lighting. “I can’t find anyone that’s heard from him since yesterday morning ...”

“That tracks with the timeline we’re seeing, sir.” Zara studied her monitor. “All Sentinel’s secure channels went quiet after Maya’s infiltration.”

Star leaned forward, her usual energy subdued. “We’re seeing systematic shutdowns across their network, Admiral. Like they’re?—”

“They’re purging systems,” Maya added. “Standard procedure after?—”

“After a breach,” Ronan finished, then immediately regretted it. Their tactical synchronization was still perfect.

But instead of the smile that would have earned him a day ago, this time, hurt flashed across her face before she masked it.

Keep things professional, he reminded himself silently. Mission focus only.

Across the table, Christian’s eyebrows lifted slightly. Axel shot him a look that said he wasn’t fooling anyone. Ronan ignored them both, just like he ignored the hollow ache in his chest every time Maya spoke. Just like he ignored the way everyone in the room was pretending not to notice the growing tension between them.

Professional. Distant. Safe.

“What about the medical records?” Kenji asked, his usual calm voice carrying an edge. The team medic had taken the VA deaths personally—they all had, but for him it was different. These were people he might have treated, might have saved.

“Working on decryption,” Zara replied, sharing a screen with Ethan. The two tech experts had been trading coding duties for hours, their usual competitive banter replaced by grim focus. “But the preliminary analysis shows they’re running a network.”

Deke leaned forward, his quiet presence drawing attention. “The question is why. What’s the endgame?” The former chaplain’s eyes held that penetrating look Ronan had learned to respect—and sometimes fear. Like he could see straight through people’s defenses to their core.

“Whatever it is,” Griff said from his position by the wall, “it’s big enough to spook Richardson into hiding.”

Christian straightened, his tactical mind visibly engaging. “That man doesn’t spook easily. I’ve known him for years through the admiral. This isn’t like him.”

“Unless he knew we were coming,” Star added. “The timing of the systems shutdown?—”

“They knew exactly what we’d found,” Maya finished.

He’d been about to make the same observation. Again, with the perfect tactical synchronization. Ronan forced himself not to look at her, but he could feel her presence across the room like a physical thing.

The admiral’s voice cut through their speculation. “Which is why I’m heading back. Minerva’s meeting the kids in Capri—that’ll keep her occupied while I help you all handle this mess.”

“Sir,” Christian started, leaning forward, “given the security implications?—”

“This isn’t up for debate, Murphy.” The admiral’s tone brooked no argument, but there was something else in his expression. Pain, maybe. Betrayal. “Buck Richardson’s been my friend for thirty years. No way I’m accusing a good man of treason. Not until we’ve got ironclad evidence. If he’s involved in this, I want to look him in the eye when we take him down.”

Ronan understood that kind of loyalty. That need to face betrayal head-on. It was part of what made walking away from Maya so hard ...

The admiral eyed an expensive dive watch. “Minerva’s going to have a fit, but I can make it back to port in under three hours. That puts me in the air by zero five hundred local time at the worst. Then fifteen hours flight time, give or take. I’ll be wheels down around twelve hundred local time.” He eyed his drooping crew. “Let’s call a meeting for thirteen hundred. In the meantime, get me as much intel as you can. And people? Go get some sleep. That’s an order.”

He ended the call, leaving them with action items and a growing sense of urgency.

Christian rose, clapping his hands together. “You heard the man. R and R, including serious rack time, is officially mandatory.”

Before the group could disperse, the hangar door below burst open, admitting his mother in full force. Lawrence Chen trailed her up the stairs with an apologetic expression. “There you all are! I brought sustenance. Nobody thinks clearly on an empty stomach.”

She brandished several bags from the DreamBurger outlet in the tiny airport terminal. Ronan’s stomach betrayed him with a growl, even as his mother’s presence made him tense further.

“Victoria,” Christian started, “we’re kind of in the middle of?—”

“Of starving yourselves while overthinking everything?” She began distributing containers with military precision.

Axel pressed a hand to his flat belly. “Mrs. Quinn, you are the best.”

Her smile dazzled. “Of course, I am. But I’m pleased to no end that you know it, dear.”

Maya’s dad caught Ronan’s eye and shrugged helplessly. Clearly, he’d tried and failed to prevent this invasion.

Before Ronan could process the complicated emotions of his mother feeding his brother’s team—his team—like they were all one big happy family, Maya approached his end of the table. “We should discuss the entry protocols.”

“Send them to Kenji,” Ronan cut her off, standing abruptly. “He’ll coordinate with tactical.”

He saw the flash of anger in her eyes, the slight straightening of her spine. “Right. Keep it professional. Got it.”

She turned on her heel and walked out. The room fell awkwardly silent.

“Real smooth, boss,” Griff commented dryly.

Victoria paused in her dumpling distribution, eyes sharp. “That young lady?—”

“Mom.” Ronan’s voice held a warning even he rarely used. “Don’t.”

She pressed her lips together, clearly holding back whatever maternal wisdom she’d been about to dispense. Lawrence placed a gentle hand on her arm, and she subsided, but her eyes spoke volumes.

Axel paused, fries halfway to his mouth. “You’re being an idiot,” he muttered, too low for anyone else to hear.

“Whatever. Just stay focused,” Ronan growled back.

“Oh, I am. Are you?”

Ronan ignored them all, gathering his papers with sharp movements. He needed air. Space. Distance. His future stretched out before him like a blank page—tattered, torn, and utterly empty. Just the way it had to be.

Just the way he’d chosen to make it.

“The burgers will get cold,” his mother called after him as he headed for the door.

He kept walking. Behind him, he heard Axel accept a container with excessive enthusiasm, heard Christian thank their mother with careful politeness, heard the normal sounds of people connecting, belonging, building something he couldn’t let himself have.

The door closed behind him with a final click.

Perfect. Now he had two women in his life he needed to avoid. At least his mother would keep trying. Maya was smart enough to know better.