Page 36 of Secret Hope (Hope Landing: New Recruits #5)

Kenji stared at the old schematics until his vision blurred. No way they could disable that submarine. Which meant at best, Vega would ruin Cassidy's life… and her foundation. All those lives that wouldn't be saved… Not to mention getting away with at least two more murders.

And most likely, he'd still have the three of them hunted down before he left.

Water dripped steadily from damaged ceiling tiles. The building's groans had become a constant soundtrack to their planning session.

Sophia watched him from under lowered lashes. "I agree, mate. No way to make it in there."

"So we don't try to reach it," Cassidy said. "We make sure Vega can't reach it either."

Spencer perked up from where he'd been fidgeting with a broken radio. "Like... blow up the dock? Because I definitely don't know how to do that. Just to be clear."

"Better," Cassidy said, her green eyes sharp with calculation. "We make him think he's already won. That he doesn't need to run at all."

The weight of their situation settled over the room like a physical presence. Through the reinforced windows, Kenji could see the storm's eye approaching—that eerie calm that would bring civilians out of hiding, complicating everything.

He consulted his dive watch. "Knight Tactical's still an hour away, at best. Even if the storm calms enough for them to approach, we're talking dawn at the earliest."

Cassidy had gone very still, her expression shifting into what he recognized as her tournament face. "We stage my death," she said slowly. "Make it look like the building collapse killed me. Vega wants confirmation before he leaves—we give it to him."

"You're talking about using yourself as bait," Kenji said, every protective instinct screaming rejection.

"I'm talking about controlling the narrative." She stood, moving to the schematics. "Look—this section of the building is already partially collapsed. We stage an accident scene there. Make it convincing enough that when his men come to verify, they see exactly what they expect."

Spencer's eyes widened. "Like in The Sting! We con the con man!"

"Exactly." Cassidy traced the layout. "Debris, fake blood from medical supplies, torn clothing. I play dead while you guys position yourselves for ambush."

Kenji found himself studying the location despite his horror at the plan. The tactical operator in him could see the advantages—controlled environment, element of surprise, chance to acquire real weapons from Vega's men.

"And when Vega himself comes to gloat?" Sophia asked, already inventorying their supplies. "Because he will. Man like that needs to see his victory firsthand."

"Then we spring the trap," Cassidy said simply. "He'll be overconfident, probably bring minimal security if he thinks the threat is already neutralized."

The plan was forming in Kenji's mind despite his emotional rejection of it.

They could use the debris to create natural cover positions.

The fake blood would need to be convincing—lucky they had actual medical supplies from treating injuries.

Spencer could sell the panicked discovery, draw the guards in. ..

"The timing has to be perfect," he heard himself saying. "We need their radios to monitor communications. And someone needs to make the 'discovery' believable enough to report up the chain."

"I can do that," Spencer volunteered, surprising everyone. "I mean, I'm already kind of panicky. Won't be hard to play terrified civilian who just found a body."

Kenji looked at each face around the table—Spencer's nervous determination, Sophia's professional assessment already working through contingencies, Cassidy's quiet courage despite the fear he could see in her eyes.

She's not a soldier, the protective part of him argued. But she'd proven over and over that she didn't need to be. She had her own strength, her own ways of fighting.

"We'll need signals," he said finally, his tactical mind overriding his emotional objections. "Visual only—can't risk radio chatter they might intercept."

Relief flickered across Cassidy's face. "What kind of signals?"

"Hand to throat means abort. Touching your ear means proceed. Palm flat against chest means immediate danger." He demonstrated each gesture, watching her memorize them with the same intensity she brought to reading poker tells.

"Right then," Sophia said, already moving toward the door. "Spencer, you're with me. Restaurant kitchen should have everything we need—iodine from the first aid supplies, ketchup, maybe some food coloring, corn syrup, if we're lucky."

"Me?" Spencer straightened, looking both surprised and pleased. "I mean, yes. Totally. I can help carry things."

"Among other talents," Sophia said dryly. "Two pairs of eyes are better than one, and you know this resort's layout better than anyone." She glanced back at Kenji and Cassidy. "We'll be back in a jiff. Ten minutes, tops."

"Be careful," Cassidy warned. "Vega's people could be?—"

"Skulking about like proper villains?" Sophia's accent thickened with false cheer. "We'll keep our heads down. Come on, Spencer. Time to play chemistry set."

Spencer practically bounced toward the door. "This is like that time in college when we had to fake a crime scene for theater class. Except, you know, with actual stakes and people trying to kill us."

"Fascinating," Sophia said, already ushering him out. "You can tell me all about it while we raid the kitchen."

As the door closed behind them, Kenji turned to Cassidy. "How long until the eye passes over?"

He checked his watch. "Maybe forty minutes. When those shelter doors open and civilians start wandering around, everything gets more complicated."

"Then we better make this happen fast." She met his eyes, and he saw the same determination that had carried her through Vega's torture.

Looking at her—brilliant, brave, willing to risk everything to stop a monster—Kenji felt his resistance crumble. Because she was right. This was their best shot. Maybe their only shot.

"Visual signals only," he repeated. "And Cassidy? When this goes down, if anything feels wrong?—"

"I know," she said softly. "Trust the plan. Trust each other."

He wanted to say more. Wanted to tell her how the thought of her in danger made his chest tight with fear. Wanted to confess that somewhere between that first poker game and this moment, she'd become essential to him in ways that had nothing to do with the mission.

Instead, he just nodded. "Let's make Vega think he's won."