Page 15 of Rogue Hope (Hope Landing: New Recruits #4)

Finn watched Zara work her keyboard with the touch of a concert pianist. Despite their mutual wariness, he couldn’t help but admire her technical proficiency.

“Your southern quadrant has a gap,” he pointed out, careful to keep his tone neutral.

She didn’t look up. “It’s intentional. A vulnerability that looks accidental.”

“Smart.”

“Elementary tradecraft,” she replied, though the slight upturn at the corner of her mouth betrayed satisfaction.

“Coffee?” he offered, rising from his station.

She glanced up briefly. “Black. Two sugars.”

“Your team’s good,” he said, returning a few minutes later with two steaming mugs.

“They’re the best.” The fierce loyalty in her voice was unmistakable. “And they’re not just my team. They’re family.”

Which he wasn’t. The implication struck harder than he’d like to admit.

A sharp electronic tone sounded, originating from Zara’s workstation. Both froze as a communication window automatically opened.

“That’s impossible,” Zara whispered, fingers already moving to trace the intrusion. “This system is hardened. Air-gapped.”

Words began appearing line by line.

The deadline approaches. I trust Knight Tactical is providing adequate resources for our collaboration.

Mr. Novak’s presence is an unexpected but not unwelcome development.

“They’re inside our system,” Zara said, voice tight with controlled alarm.

Don’t waste energy on trace attempts. This is merely a demonstration of capabilities.

She read the messages aloud.

Ronan’s response was immediate. “Physical breach?”

“Digital only so far. But they’ve penetrated the secure system.”

“On our way.”

Zara breathed, executing emergency procedures. “There’s no intrusion pathway. No breach point.”

“Has to be hardware,” Finn concluded grimly. “Something physically present.”

Her head snapped up. “The new coffee machine. Delivered three days ago.”

Ronan, Axel and Deke blasted out of the room, Finn on their heels.

Grim-faced, Griff led the procession back into the computer lab, appliance in hand. He set it on the table and flipped it upside down, yanking the baseplate off.

“Here.” He located a small secondary circuit board. “Custom transmitter with built-in processing capability.”

Ronan and Deke rushed back in, weapons out.

“Clear,” Finn reported. “But we’ve got compromised hardware.”

Deke examined the device. “Military-grade. Modified DARPA tech.”

Ronan holstered his weapon. “What did they get?”

Zara gave Finn a long look before shaking her head. “It’s not what they got. It’s what they found. Cipher will know to look for our trace.”

A heavy silence settled as the implications registered.

“Options?” Ronan asked, unfazed by the setback.

Zara leaned back, thinking. “There’s no choice. We continue to comply. Give Cipher the useless intel he’s demanding. Pass the first test.”

“Time check,” Deke announced. “1749 hours. Less than 50 minutes to comply.”

All eyes turned to Zara, whose expression revealed nothing, though Finn recognized the tension in her shoulders.

“We’ve got this,” she said finally. “But there’s a problem. Authentication mechanisms have changed since my clearance days. I’ll trigger security alerts before reaching the seed.”

Finn spoke up. “I know someone who can provide temporary credentials. Sufficient for the authentication layer.”

“Your mysterious hacker friend?” Zara’s skepticism was evident.

“Yes.”

“And you trust this person?”

“With my life.” He resisted the urge to explain further. Either she’d trust him on this, or she wouldn’t.

She sought Ronan’s gaze before nodding. “Make the call.”

“It’s not a call. It’s a specific contact sequence,” he moved to his workstation. “And we’ll have maybe five minutes to spare if we start now.”

And if his old contact was still feeling generous.

While he and Zara waited, eyes glued to their monitors, the rest of the team retreated.

At 1743 hours, his screen displayed a confirmation.

Credentials incoming. One-time use. 15-minute window.

“We’re on.” He transferred the data package to Zara’s system.

She studied him. “If you’ve messed this up …”

He huffed a laugh. “I won’t make it back to my rental car. I know. I get it.”

“Just so we’re clear.”

More than clear. Finn simply nodded. No point attempting to assure her he was trustworthy. Only actions would do that now.

“Time check,” she murmured, fingers poised.

“1741 hours. Sixteen minutes to deadline.”

Zara began the intricate process of approaching Sentinel Network’s outer defenses. Her technique was flawless, movements efficient, anticipating security measures before they appeared.

“Credentials activating,” she narrated quietly. “Firewalls navigated. System recognizing credentials. Temporary access granted.”

“Bingo,” he whispered, not daring to look away.

“Accessing encryption seed now,” she continued. “Capturing key structure. Complete.”

“Time check?” she asked.

“1828. Nine minutes under deadline.”

Zara transferred the encryption seed to the secure channel Finn had prepared. With one keystroke, she sent the data package to Cipher.

The response came almost immediately.

Compliance confirmed. Further instructions will be forthcoming.

Zara announced the feat over comms. Her teammates filed back in, every one of them now in full gear.

“We’ve found three devices so far,” Deke reported. “One visual, two audio. All tied to recent equipment.”

“Complete sweep of all facilities,” Ronan ordered. “Everything that doesn’t belong.”

“Won’t matter,” Finn said. “They wanted us to discover this level of surveillance.”

“Psychological pressure,” he explained to questioning looks. “And it distracts from whatever they’re actually using.”

“The Trojan Horse idea is still viable,” Zara said suddenly. “They think they’ve rendered it useless, but that’s exactly why we should proceed.”

“Double bluff,” Axel nodded appreciatively.

“It’s risky,” Finn cautioned.

“Risk is unavoidable now,” Zara countered. “But we have one advantage—they think they know exactly how I operate. Seven years ago, they would have been right.”

The implication was clear. Zara was no longer the operative Cipher had calculated for, no longer the person Finn had known in Paris.

“We’ve bought ourselves a little time,” Ronan summarized. “Let’s use it wisely.”

As the team dispersed, Finn found himself alone with Zara. The silence felt different now—less antagonistic. Or so he imagined.

“Your contact came through,” she acknowledged reluctantly. “The credentials worked perfectly.”

“She usually delivers.”

One eyebrow rose slightly.

“Work contact,” he clarified. “Nothing more.”

“None of my business either way.” Zara rose from her chair and headed for the door.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

She paused but didn’t turn. “What?”

The words that nearly formed—apologies, explanations—died unsaid. This wasn’t the time. Might never be.

“Good work today,” he said instead. “Cipher underestimates you. That’s an advantage.”

She nodded once. “I hope. Let’s make it count.”

Watching her walk away, Finn surrendered to the cold certainty settling in his chest.

They were already too late.