Page 45 of Rogue Hope (Hope Landing: New Recruits #4)

Finn’s wrists burned against the restraints, but that was nothing compared to the rage searing through him as Reynolds marched Zara across the vast hangar to the workout area.

Their eyes locked across the room. Despite everything—the danger, her obvious pain, the betrayal of her mentor—he saw nothing but steel in her gaze. His admiration for her resilience burned even brighter.

Reynolds adjusted his pleats, every inch the polished intelligence veteran. Only the cold calculation in his eyes betrayed the monster beneath the swanky clothes. “Comfortable, Novak?”

“Five-star accommodations,” Finn shot back, testing his restraints again. Solid. Professional. Unbreakable. “Though your hospitality could use some serious work.”

Reynolds smiled thinly. “Always the jokester.” He gestured to the Vanguard operative standing guard. “Give Ms. Khoury a chair. She’s had a difficult day.”

“Don’t bother on my account,” Zara said. “I prefer to stand in the presence of traitors.”

Reynolds clicked his tongue. “You might want to reserve judgment until you hear the whole story, Mockingbird.” He began pacing, hands clasped behind his back like a professor preparing to lecture.

“I built you. Shaped you from promising but raw talent into one of the finest operatives the Agency has ever seen.”

“You manipulated her medications,” Finn spat, unable to contain his fury. “What kind of sicko does that to someone they claim to care about?”

“A pragmatic decision.” Reynolds didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. “I needed her functional but compromised. Clear enough to perform the tasks I required, but vulnerable enough not to detect my influence.”

Zara’s jaw tightened. “Why? All of this—the setup with Phoenix, framing Finn, sending my team into danger—why, Harrison?”

The older man’s expression shifted to something almost reverential. “For the Solomon Key.”

He knew.

Finn’s blood turned to ice in his veins. “Never heard of it.”

Reynolds smiled, satisfaction glinting in his eyes. “I’ve always prided myself on knowing things nobody else does. It’s why I’ve survived this long in a business that devours the uninformed.”

Finn forced himself to keep his expression blank. The Solomon Key. His most closely guarded secret—a biometric authentication program he’d created after Paris. After he realized just what a danger Cipher represented.

He’d spent months engineering the uncrackable system designed specifically to protect Sentinel Network’s master codes.

“How did you even—” Finn began, then stopped himself, realizing there was only one explanation. “You’ve been monitoring me. All this time.”

“Not consistently,” Reynolds admitted, opening his hands in a gesture of almost academic interest. “You’re remarkably skilled at disappearing.

But I caught enough fragments over the years.

Mentions in encrypted communications. References in black market intelligence exchanges.

” He leaned forward slightly. “You created quite the masterpiece, Mr. Novak. A biometric key that requires not just physical markers but specific brainwave patterns from two separate individuals, working in perfect synchronization.”

Zara’s eyes widened, her gaze shifting to Finn. “This Solomon thing, you built it?”

Finn swallowed hard. “After Paris. After I learned what Cipher …” He jutted his chin at Reynolds. “What he was really after.” His throat felt dry. “Two-person authentication—biological and neurological. Impossible to crack with technology alone.”

“And impossible to force through coercion,” Reynolds added, sounding almost impressed. “If either party is under duress, their brainwave patterns alter just enough to invalidate the authentication. Brilliant work.”

Zara swung on Reynolds. “Why didn’t you grab us both earlier? Why the elaborate charade with Phoenix?”

Reynolds spread his hands. “I needed to buy time. I could have grabbed Novak. No one would even notice if he disappeared. But if you disappeared, your team would come looking.”

“You wanted my team to think we were dead,” Zara concluded, voice tight with anger. “You wanted time to disappear with us.”

“That was the original plan, yes.” Reynolds shrugged slightly. “We had to adapt.”

Finn connected the dots. “The hotel in Kuala Lumpur. That was you too?”

“A necessary diversion.” Reynolds checked his watch casually, as if discussing dinner plans rather than elaborate deception. “Though not as successful as I’d hoped.”

Zara glared at him. “You’ve been Cipher all along, haven’t you?”

Reynolds’ expression hardened fractionally.

“Yes … and no. I am involved. Intimately.” His voice took on a fervent quality that sent chills down Finn’s spine.

“Cipher is a collective of the most brilliant minds from intelligence communities around the world. People who recognize the fundamental flaws in our existing security apparatus.”

“You’re traitors,” Finn said flatly.

“We’re visionaries,” Reynolds countered, eyes flashing.

“The conventional intelligence community has become bloated, inefficient, corrupted by politics and bureaucracy. Information that should be acted upon is buried in red tape. Threats that should be neutralized are allowed to fester because of diplomatic concerns.”

He straightened his shoulders. “The Council of Ciphers cuts through that nonsense. We take the intelligence that matters and ensure it reaches the right people—people who will actually use it.”

“People who’ll pay for it, you mean,” Zara said. “You’re selling state secrets.”

“We’re ensuring global security by bypassing broken systems,” Reynolds corrected. “And yes, that requires funding. Significant funding.”

“Noble cause corruption,” Finn said, disgust rising in his throat. “You’ve convinced yourself you’re the hero of this story.”

Reynolds smiled thinly. “History is written by the victors, Mr. Novak. And I intend to be victorious.” He checked his watch again. “Which brings me to the matter of your cooperation.”

“Not happening,” Zara and Finn said in perfect unison.

Reynolds nodded to one of the Vanguard operatives, who produced a tablet and handed it to him. “Perhaps this will change your minds.”

He turned the screen toward them, displaying real-time biometric data from each Knight Tactical team member’s gear.

Five distinct signature patterns—labeled Ronan, Axel, Griffin, Maya, and Deke—showed elevated heart rates and declining oxygen saturation levels.

A topographical overlay indicated their position deep within the Blackridge Mine complex, with flashing red warnings highlighting a sealed section.

Zara made a sound deep in her throat.

“They’re currently trapped in the eastern shaft of the Blackridge Mine,” Reynolds explained calmly.

“As you can see, their vitals are already showing signs of oxygen deprivation. The biometric sensors in their gear don’t lie.

” He zoomed in on the oxygen readings, which were steadily dropping.

“I estimate they have approximately three hours before hypoxia sets in. Perhaps another hour after that before death.”

Finn studied the data, his training automatically searching for inconsistencies but finding none. Knight Tactical’s biometric monitoring systems were state-of-the-art—designed to track operatives’ vital signs in the field. The signatures appeared authentic.

“What do you want?” Zara’s voice was barely audible.

“Your willing participation in accessing Sentinel Network using the Solomon Key,” Reynolds replied. “In exchange, I will provide the exact coordinates of your team’s location to rescue personnel.”

“How do we know you’ll keep your word?” Finn demanded.

Reynolds spread his hands. “You don’t. But consider the alternatives. Refuse, and your friends die. Cooperate, and they at least have a chance.”

Finn’s gaze found Zara’s across the room. In that moment of silent connection, something passed between them—something Reynolds, for all his intelligence and manipulation, couldn’t comprehend.

A shared faith.

Reynolds might control their physical circumstances, but he couldn’t touch their spirits. He couldn’t break the bond that had formed between them through fire and pain.

“We’ll need time to discuss this,” Zara said, her voice stronger now.

“Of course.” Reynolds’ smug smile suggested he believed he’d already won. “You have one hour. Though I suspect the decision is already made.”

As Reynolds and his operatives moved toward the door, a strange calm settled over Finn. The kind of peace he’d only experienced in moments of true spiritual clarity.

The Lord hadn’t brought them this far to abandon them.

His eyes met Zara’s again, and in her steady gaze, he found the confirmation he needed. Together, they would find a way through this darkness.

Reynolds had manipulated everything else, but he’d made one critical miscalculation.

He’d brought them together.

And together, they were far more dangerous than he could possibly imagine.