Page 16 of Secret Hope (Hope Landing: New Recruits #5)

Kenji checked his watch as they moved through the resort's marble corridors—twenty-three minutes since they'd found Holloway's body. The main tournament would begin in exactly fifty-seven minutes, and with each passing second, their window of opportunity narrowed like a closing trap.

How long before housekeeping discovered the corpse? How quickly would resort security lock down the building? How much time did they have before Vega's net closed completely around Cassidy?

The brief minutes he'd spent helping her regain composure had been necessary—she couldn't have maintained her cover in shock—but every second counted now.

The business center occupied a quiet corner of the resort's main floor, its glass walls offering clear sightlines while providing the illusion of privacy.

Through the transparent barriers, Kenji spotted Sophia immediately—auburn hair swept into a professional chignon, charcoal blazer impeccable despite the early hour, her fingers dancing across a tablet screen as she spoke in low, measured tones.

"There," Cassidy breathed, relief flooding her voice. "She's safe."

He assessed the assistant even as they approached.

Mid-thirties, composed under pressure, the polished competence that spoke of education and experience.

But there was something else—the way she positioned her tablet to prevent shoulder surfing, how she'd chosen a seat with clear views of both entrances, the subtle shift of her weight when she noticed their approach.

Not entirely civilian behavior.

They waited until Sophia finished her call, watching through the glass as she made final notes before closing the video connection.

When she looked up and saw them, her expression shifted through surprise, concern, and finally suspicion as she registered Kenji's presence beside her clearly distressed boss.

"Cass?" Sophia was on her feet instantly, moving toward them with quick, purposeful strides. Her Australian accent sharpened with concern. "What's wrong? And why is the bloke who lost his shirt at poker yesterday following you around?"

"Sophia, this is?—"

"Kenji Marshall. Former Navy SEAL, combat medic, currently with Knight Tactical security." Sophia's eyes narrowed as she rattled off the information. "I looked him up after that scene at registration yesterday. Question is, why's a private security contractor playing nursemaid to my boss?"

"Because your boss walked into a murder scene that was staged specifically for her," Kenji said bluntly, watching Sophia's reaction.

The color drained from Sophia's face, but her body language shifted immediately—weight balanced, ready to move. "Vega?"

"We need somewhere private to talk," Cassidy said, her voice steadier than Kenji expected. "Your room?"

Sophia nodded, but her suspicious gaze never left Kenji. "Follow me. But if this is some con ?—"

"Sophia, please." Cassidy's hand briefly touched her assistant's arm. "I know it looks strange, but he helped me. I was... I found Marcus Holloway's body, and Kenji kept me from completely falling apart."

"Holloway's dead?" Sophia's accent thickened with shock. "All right, let's move before someone notices we're having a moment in the middle of the bleeding lobby."

As they walked, Cassidy explained everything in hushed, urgent tones—Vega's ultimatum, the deepfake videos, the text that had lured her to Holloway's room.

Sophia listened without interruption, though Kenji noticed her hand drifting toward her jacket pocket more than once, as if checking for something.

"So Vega wants you to cheat, you said no, and now one of the targets is conveniently dead in a room you were lured to," Sophia summarized as she unlocked her door. "Classic frame job. Question is, what's a SEAL doing in the middle of it?"

"Being in the right place at the right time," Kenji said, immediately moving to check the bathroom and balcony.

"Or the wrong place at the suspicious time," Sophia countered, closing and locking the door behind them. "No offense, mate, but Cass has a habit of trusting people she shouldn't. It's my job to be paranoid for her."

"Sophia—" Cassidy started.

"No, she's right to be suspicious," Kenji interrupted, respecting the protective instinct. "You don't know me. But you know Vega's reach, and right now I'm the only person on this island with the training and resources to keep you both alive."

"Says you." Sophia moved to position herself between Kenji and Cassidy—subtle but deliberate. "For all we know, you could be working for Vega. Gambling addiction's expensive, yeah? Perfect leverage for a bloke like him."

The accusation hit too close to home, but Kenji kept his expression neutral. "If I was working for Vega, would I have helped her recover from the shock? Would I be here planning how to protect her instead of letting his plan unfold?"

"Could be playing the long game. Get close, earn trust, — "

"Soph, stop." Cassidy's voice carried quiet authority. "I appreciate the protection, but he's right. When I found that body, I nearly collapsed. Kenji got me functional again, helped me maintain my cover. If he wanted me implicated, all he had to do was walk away."

Sophia studied her boss for a long moment, and sighed. "Right. Sorry. It's — this is exactly the thing I'm supposed to prevent. Some assistant I'm turning out to be."

"You've been brilliant," Cassidy assured her. "But this is beyond what either of us signed up for."

As they talked, Kenji moved through the room—positioning a water glass against the door to detect vibrations, adjusting curtains to eliminate sniper angles, and pulling the phone cord from the wall jack.

"Oi, what're you doing to my room?" Sophia demanded.

"No landlines," he explained. "Too easy to monitor. The water glass will shift if anyone approaches the door. And those curtain adjustments prevent long-range surveillance."

Sophia watched him work, her expression shifting from suspicion to reluctant professional interest. "You weren't kidding about the training."

"Ten years with the SEALs, a year now in private security. I've kept principals alive in worse situations than this."

"Principals," Sophia repeated, her accent making the word sound almost mocking. "That what Cass is now? A principal?"

"Right now, she's a target," Kenji said flatly. "And staying alive means thinking strategically, not emotionally."

"Speaking of which," Cassidy interjected, sinking into a chair, "what exactly do we do? Vega made it clear—comply or Haven House burns."

Kenji moved to the window, checking angles and sightlines while his mind raced through options.

"We buy time. You play along with his tournament scheme—for now.

It keeps you visible, public, surrounded by cameras and witnesses.

He can't make direct moves against you while you're performing exactly as ordered. "

"You want her to cheat." Sophia's voice was flat with disapproval. "Cass has never cheated at cards in her life."

"I want her alive," Kenji corrected. "Everything else is negotiable."

"Easy for you to say, mate. You're not the one who'll have to live with it after."

"Sophia," Cassidy said quietly. "He's right. If I don't play along, at least temporarily..."

"We run," Sophia said firmly. "I can have us on a charter flight in two hours. My cousin in Brisbane?—"

"Vega owns this island," Kenji interrupted. "The airport, the marina, probably half the local government. You wouldn't make it to the tarmac."

Sophia's shoulders sagged slightly. "So what then?"

"I've got resources you don't—a team of operators back in the States who can dig into Vega's operation, identify vulnerabilities, find leverage we can use. But I need time to contact them and formulate a real plan."

"How long?" Cassidy asked.

"Tournament runs in two-hour sessions. First break is at fourteen-thirty. That gives me roughly two hours to coordinate with my team and develop options."

"Your team," Sophia said slowly. "Knight Tactical. They any good?"

"The best in the business."

"They'd have to be, going up against Vega." She pulled out her tablet, fingers flying across the screen. "All right, I'm in. But we do this my way too. I've got contacts in Hong Kong who might have dirt on Vega's shipping operations. While you're calling in the cavalry, I'll work my angles."

Kenji found himself reassessing Sophia. The protective assistant had more resources than he'd initially assumed. "Good. We need every advantage we can get."

He moved to Sophia's desk, pulling out a sheet of resort stationary. "First, Cassidy needs to send Vega a message. Something that looks like capitulation without appearing coerced."

Cassidy took the pen with reluctant fingers. "What do I say?"

"Keep it simple. 'I'll be at the tables as directed. Ready to comply.'"

"That makes my skin crawl," Sophia muttered as Cassidy wrote the words in her careful script.

"Mine too," Cassidy admitted. "But if it keeps us alive long enough to find another solution..."

Sophia read over her shoulder as she folded the note. "I'll have it delivered."

"No." Kenji shook his head. "We use hotel services. Creates a paper trail, involves neutral parties. Less suspicious than hand delivery."

"Right, because Vega definitely cares about suspicious," Sophia said, but she was already calling the front desk. Her accent smoothed out to something more professionally neutral as she arranged for message delivery.

"You'll need secure communications," Sophia observed after hanging up. "Can't trust the hotel's Wi-Fi or cell towers. Vega probably monitors everything, the paranoid tosser."

"I've got encrypted satellite capability in my gear."

"'Course you do." Sophia's irreverent tone was back. "Probably have a secret base in a volcano too."

Despite everything, Kenji saw Cassidy's lips twitch toward a smile. "Soph..."

"What? If we're trusting GI Joe here with our lives, might as well know if he comes with action figure accessories."

"Thirty-two minutes until tournament start," Kenji said, recognizing the deflection for what it was—Sophia keeping Cassidy from spiraling into panic. "You both need to be visible, engaged, acting normal. Cassidy plays her part, Sophia supports from the gallery. Stay together, stay public."

"You're leaving?" Cassidy's voice held a note of anxiety she couldn't hide.

"Long enough to set up secure communications and contact my team. Twenty minutes, thirty at most."

"I don't like it," Sophia said immediately. "Splitting up is exactly what Vega would want."

"Which is why you stay in public areas with witnesses. He can't make a move against Cassidy while she's doing exactly what he demanded." He met Sophia's skeptical gaze. "I know you don't trust me. But right now, I'm your best option."

"Our only option, you mean," Sophia corrected. "There's a difference."

"Sophia, please," Cassidy said softly. "I know this is insane. I know trusting a stranger goes against everything logical. But when I was in that stairwell, shaking apart..." She touched her cross necklace. "Maybe the Lord sent him at the perfect moment."

Sophia’s expression softened. "All right. But if this goes pear-shaped, I'm holding you personally responsible, Marshall."

"Fair enough." He moved toward the door. "First break is at fourteen-thirty. Meet me in the hotel bar— it’s public, crowded, safe. I’ll have some answers then."

"You better," Sophia said. "Because if anything happens to her while you're playing secret agent?—"

"Nothing will happen to her," Kenji said with quiet intensity. "I give you my word."

"The word of a gambling addict who owes money to dangerous people?" Sophia asked pointedly.

The accusation stung, but Kenji met her gaze steadily. "The word of a man who's failed at a lot of things, but never at protecting someone who needed it."

Something in his tone must have reached her, because Sophia's posture relaxed fractionally. "Okay. Twenty minutes. Don't be late."

As he left, Kenji heard Sophia's accent thicken with affection: "Come on, Cass. Let's get you freshened up. Can't have the Angel of the Felt looking like she's seen a ghost, even if she has."

The familiar banter between them continued as he walked away, and Kenji found himself oddly grateful for Sophia's protective irreverence. Cassidy needed someone who could keep her grounded, someone who wouldn't let her sink too deep into the horror of what was happening.

Vega was sending a message, and a warning.