Page 30 of Rogue Hope (Hope Landing: New Recruits #4)

“This can’t be right.”

Zara muttered, her voice unnaturally loud in the quiet cabin.

But the timestamp on screen matched Harrison’s confirmed presence overseas precisely when he’d claimed to be stateside.

The implications twisted in her gut like a knife.

The chill of betrayal slicing deeper than any physical pain.

She scanned the data again. And a third time. It didn’t make sense.

Unless Finn was right.

Finn entered quietly, stopping short when he noticed her rigid posture. “Find something?”

She exhaled slowly, gathering her composure before forcing herself to speak. “There’s a timestamp. It matches perfectly with Harrison’s confirmed operational schedule overseas.”

He sank down across from her. “I’m sorry. That stinks.”

“Don’t,” she warned sharply, her eyes flashing. “It’s circumstantial. Possibly planted.”

“Okay. It’s not completely impossible. I can’t argue with that. Much. But given Cipher’s capabilities, we can’t dismiss the possibility that Reynolds is involved here. I mean, come on, Zara.”

She looked away, unwilling to concede. Not yet. He, better than anyone, knew that intel officers dealt with layer upon layer upon layer of subterfuge. “I need more evidence.”

“Agreed.”

She blinked at him. “Really?”

He nodded. “We’ll keep digging until we’re both comfortable with the evidence.”

She met his eyes again, searching for any deception, any hidden intent. Instead, she found only sincerity and calm determination. “Okay. No assumptions. Wherever the evidence leads.”

Finn held her gaze solemnly. “Agreed.”

A tense but cooperative silence settled between them. Zara turned back to the terminal, intent on digging deeper. But each keystroke felt heavier now, weighed down by the unsettling realization that trust, once broken, was nearly impossible to mend.

Was Harrison mixed up in this somehow? Was he using her to investigate? That kind of manipulation wouldn’t be out of character. Or worse. Was he Cipher?

As the hours dragged on, the pain grew sharper. Zara’s fingers trembled, her concentration faltering. Suddenly, her wrist jerked violently, scattering typed letters across the screen.

Finn caught the involuntary movement. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” she lied curtly. Yet the tremors intensified, muscles spasming painfully, overwhelming her resolve. She braced herself on the desk, breath coming in shallow gasps.

“You’re having a flare.” Finn moved cautiously, retrieving medical supplies without waiting for permission. “Let me help.”

Her instinct to refuse crumbled beneath practicality. She nodded sharply, allowing him to gently apply heat packs to her hands, his touch respectful yet assured.

“Thank you,” she murmured grudgingly, frustration evident.

He offered a faint smile. “Partners watch each other’s backs.”

Partners did. Sure. So did teammates.

Finn was neither. Never would be.

She pressed the heat pack against her knuckles. Wherever the clues led, whatever the outcome, she’d do well not to forget just how untrustworthy he could be.