Page 23 of Rogue Hope (Hope Landing: New Recruits #4)

“So this is how it’s going to be?”

Zara shoved her phone screen in Finn’s face, her voice tight with controlled rage. “You get close enough to learn about my condition, then expose me to everyone? Not sure what your plan is from here, but whatever your endgame is, it’s not gonna happen.”

Her fury pushed him back two steps.

Her eyes, usually coolly analytical, blazed with an intensity that startled him.

“You did this.” She shoved the screen toward him again.

He read the awful words.

“What?” Confusion crashed over him, followed quickly by indignation. “Zara, I didn’t?—”

“Twelve months.” She advanced on him, her movements tight with barely contained rage. “A whole year, I’ve kept this under wraps. Then you waltz back into my life, and five minutes later everyone knows.”

Before he could process her accusation, she grabbed the tablet from his desk and hurled it across the room.

“You were the only one who knew,” she continued, voice trembling with emotion. “And now they’re all sending me supportive messages like I’m some kind of”—her voice cracked slightly—“invalid who needs their pity.”

He could barely process what was going on. Someone had revealed Zara’s diagnosis to the team, and she believed it was him. The accusation stung more than he expected.

“Zara, stop.” He raised his hands, palms outward, a gesture both defensive and placating. “I didn’t tell anyone about your condition. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Skip it,” she scoffed, the words dripping with disbelief. “I think we both know what you’re capable of.”

Her words landed hard. Finn absorbed the verbal assault, recognizing the fear driving her anger.

“I understand why you’d think that,” he said carefully, “but you’re wrong.”

He moved slowly toward his computer, keeping his movements deliberate, non-threatening. Years of operational experience had taught him how to approach dangerous situations—and Zara Knight in this state was nothing short of dangerous.

He gestured at the monitors. “How about we do some old-fashioned detecting before you toss me onto death row?”

She didn’t respond. But she didn’t throw anything else, either, so he figured he’d bought himself a few precious seconds.

He jabbed a finger at her work station. “How about checking security logs?”

Arms wrapped around her waist, she glared at him. “You can’t be serious. Give it up.”

“Humor me. This one time.”

He forced himself not to move, just endure her icy rage while he prayed the Lord would help her see reason.

Just when he’d given up, she stalked to her chair, eyes averted.

“There’s nothing here. Everything’s—” She turned toward him, mouth hanging open.

“ No way . Knight Tactical’s internal communications were compromised approximately ninety minutes ago.

High-level breach targeting very specific information channels. ”

She sat back, eyes glued to the screen. “The intrusion bypassed fourteen separate security protocols.”

He moved behind her, reading over her shoulder. “Cipher’s signature,” he guessed. “He deliberately left traces—wanted us to know it was him. And he extracted exactly one file from the secure medical database.”

The terminal displayed the access log.

KHOURY, ZARA - MEDICAL HISTORY - ACCESSED 08:37:22.

She whirled her chair around to face him, anger giving way to something more complex—shock, vulnerability, and dawning horror. “Cipher has my medical records?”

“Not just has them—he deliberately distributed them to the team through what appeared to be internal communications,” Finn confirmed gently. “It wasn’t me, Zara. It was Cipher, making a point.”

Her shoulders slumped, composure fracturing before his eyes. The transformation was brief but profound—a glimpse behind the armor.

“I’m sorry.” He put his hands on her shoulders, an unconscious response to her distress.

She jerked away. “Don’t.”

He raised his hands, respecting the boundary she’d established while absorbing the sting of her rejection. Even now, after everything, she wouldn’t allow him to offer comfort.

“This changes our operational timeline,” he said instead, shifting into the professional language that represented safe territory for them both. “If Cipher has penetrated Knight Tactical’s internal systems this deeply, we need to move immediately on that safehouse lead.”

Zara’s expression had already reset, though Finn could still see traces of strain around her eyes. “I’ll brief the team.” She headed for the door.

“Zara,” he called softly as she reached the threshold.

She paused without turning.

“I’m sorry about Paris,” he said for the millionth time. “But I’m not that guy anymore.”

She remained motionless for a heartbeat, the silence weighted with seven years of unresolved history. “Thirty minutes,” she repeated before disappearing into the corridor.

Alone in the aftermath of her fury, Finn surveyed the damaged tablet on the floor—a physical manifestation of the emotional storm that had just swept through. He bent to retrieve the broken device, mind already shifting to operational planning even as concern for Zara persisted beneath the surface.

Cipher had deliberately exposed her most closely guarded vulnerability, using her medical condition as a psychological weapon.

The calculated cruelty of the tactic reinforced everything Finn had come to understand about their adversary—Cipher struck not just at operational weaknesses but at personal ones, maximizing psychological impact alongside strategic advantage.

As he gathered his borrowed gear, his resolve hardened. Whatever complications existed between him and Zara, whatever unresolved history stretched behind them, one thing remained clear. He would protect her during this mission, regardless of personal cost.

Even if she would never allow herself to acknowledge needing that protection.