Page 42 of Secret Hope (Hope Landing: New Recruits #5)

The hurricane's eye was a liar.

Above them stretched a perfect circle of midnight sky, stars twinkling with obscene serenity as if the world hadn't been torn apart just hours ago.

The air hung motionless, thick with salt and destruction, while somewhere beyond this false peace the storm's second wall gathered strength for its return.

Cassidy burst from the resort's shattered entrance with Sophia at her side, their feet splashing through knee-deep water that had claimed the gardens.

What had been manicured paradise now looked like Atlantis rising—palm trees bent at unnatural angles, their fronds trailing in the flood like the hair of drowned giants.

"Service tunnel's this way," Sophia called, her Interpol training showing as she navigated the transformed landscape. "Cuts straight to the dock."

The eye wouldn't last much longer, and when it collapsed...

No time to think about that.

They plunged into the flooded darkness of the maintenance tunnel, emergency lighting casting everything in hellish red. The water was higher here, swirling with debris and diesel rainbows from ruptured fuel lines. Each step was treacherous, the current trying to sweep their feet from under them.

How many men did Vega still have? Just Webb? A full security detail waiting in the submarine?

"There," Sophia pointed to scrapes along the wall, fresh gouges in the paint. "Spencer's fighting him."

Good. Every second of delay was a second for them to close the distance.

They pressed on, following the trail of disruption—an overturned maintenance cart here, drops of blood there. The fake blood on Cassidy's skin had mixed with sweat and seawater, creating rusty streams down her face that she didn't bother to wipe away.

The tunnel opened into a wider corridor, and suddenly they could hear it—the distinct rumble of massive pumps working to keep the submarine dock operational despite the flooding. Almost there.

"Cass," Sophia's hand caught her arm. "We go in hot, Spencer dies. We need a plan."

"I distract, you shoot?" Even as she said it, Cassidy knew how desperate it sounded. But what else did they have?

"With this?" Sophia held up her compact Glock, water dripping from its frame. "Nine rounds against however many crew are in that sub? Those aren't poker odds, love."

The wind outside was picking up, no longer the eye's deathly calm but the first whispers of returning fury. They could hear it building—a distant roar like an approaching freight train.

"Then we improvise," Cassidy said, pushing forward. "We've made it this far on faith and desperation. Why stop now?"

They emerged onto the submarine dock, and Cassidy's breath caught.

The sleek vessel sat in its berth like a predatory whale, hull black and gleaming despite the chaos around it. Water sloshed across the dock, rising visibly with each surge. And there, silhouetted against the submarine's bulk?—

Vega dragged Spencer toward the boarding ramp, one arm locked around his throat while his other hand pressed a pistol to Spencer's temple. No other guards visible, but the submarine's hatch stood open, promising reinforcements just out of sight.

Spencer's face was white with terror, his expensive clothes torn and soaked. But he was still fighting, feet dragging, making Vega work for every step.

"That's it," Cassidy whispered. "Keep fighting."

She stepped from cover before she could second-guess herself. "Vega!"

He turned with maddening calm, as if he'd been expecting them. Spencer's eyes widened with desperate hope that made Cassidy's chest tight.

"Ms. Reynolds." Vega's voice carried that same cultured amusement, though she caught the edge beneath it now. "Still playing the hero? Even dressed for your own funeral, I see."

The fake blood. She'd forgotten how she must look—like something from a horror movie, death walking.

"Let him go," she said, advancing slowly. "You've got your submarine. You don't need him."

"But I want him." Vega's grip tightened, making Spencer gasp. "Call it insurance. Or maybe just satisfaction."

Beside her, Sophia moved with liquid grace, positioning for a clear shot. But Vega noticed, shifting Spencer to block any angle.

"It’s over, Xavier," Sophia said, pulling out her phone with her free hand. "Everything's been transmitted. Your routes, your contacts, your buyers. Running just makes it worse."

For the first time, uncertainty flickered across Vega's face. His eyes darted to the submarine, calculating distances and odds.

That's when the storm surge hit.

A wall of water crashed through the dock area, the hurricane's gift delivered with violent force. It slammed into Cassidy's legs, nearly knocking her down. Vega stumbled, his grip on Spencer loosening as he fought for balance.

"Now!" she screamed to Spencer. "Drop!"

Training from some long-ago self-defense class must have kicked in. Spencer went completely limp, his full weight dragging downward just as another surge hit. Vega cursed, trying to maintain his hold, but the water was rising too fast, the current too strong.

The submarine rocked violently in its berth, steel groaning against the dock. Lines snapped, parting with a sound like rifle shots. The nose of the steel beast flew skyward before slamming back down onto the dock.

Cassidy lunged forward through the churning water. Not at Vega—that would get Spencer killed. Instead, she dove low, letting the current carry her in a sliding tackle that took Vega's legs out from under him.

They went down in a tangle of limbs and seawater. Vega's gun discharged, the sound massive in the enclosed space, but the shot went wild. Spencer rolled away, coughing and gasping.

"Run!" Cassidy shouted, fighting to keep Vega down as another surge tried to sweep them all toward the submarine.

But Vega was stronger. His elbow caught her ribs, driving the air from her lungs. Stars exploded across her vision as he twisted, trying to bring the gun around?—

He screamed. His gun splashed into the rising water as he clutched his shoulder, blood blooming through his expensive shirt. Sophia stood steady despite the flooding, her Glock still trained on him.

"That's for making me lie to my friend," she said conversationally, though Cassidy caught the tremor beneath the words.

The wind outside had become a howl. The eye was collapsing, the storm's second wall approaching with all the fury they'd survived before. Water poured through every opening, the dock becoming a river.

"We need to go." Spencer had found his voice, pointing to the tunnel they'd come through. "Now! Before?—"

The submarine's engines roared to life. Someone inside had decided to cut losses and run. The massive vessel began to move, hull scraping against the dock with a sound like screaming metal.

Vega clutched his shoulder, his handsome features now a rictus of fury…and fear. There was no time to deal with him now.

"Move!" Cassidy grabbed Spencer's arm, hauling him toward the tunnel.

They ran through rising water that was now waist-deep, fighting against a current that wanted to drag them back toward the dock. Behind them, the submarine scraped free of its berth, cutting through the storm surge with its crew but without its master.

The tunnel was a nightmare of flooding and debris. Emergency lighting failed completely, leaving them to navigate by touch and instinct. Cassidy kept one hand on Spencer, the other on the wall, Sophia's presence behind them the only thing keeping panic at bay.

They emerged into chaos. The resort's grounds were unrecognizable, transformed into a churning sea broken by the skeletal remains of buildings. The wind hit like a physical wall, driving rain horizontal.

But there—lights through the storm. Figures moving with purpose through the chaos.

"That's them!" A familiar voice boomed through the hurricane's roar. A man’s massive frame materialized from the storm, tactical gear streaming water. "Deke,” he shouted to a teammate. “Southwest corner."

"Got 'em!" An even bigger man appeared from another angle. Both operators converged on their position, weapons ready but focused on protection rather than threats.

"About time you showed up," Sophia managed, though relief colored her professional tone.

"Traffic was murder," the first one replied, already wrapping a thermal blanket around Spencer's shaking shoulders. "Plus someone"—he jerked his head toward Deke—"insisted on stopping for coffee."

"Priorities," Deke said, but his eyes were scanning the area with sniper's precision. "Vega?"

"Dock," Cassidy gasped, pointing back through the storm. "Sophia shot him. Shoulder wound. He's?—"

A sound like thunder, but wrong—structural, metallic. Through the driving rain, they could see the dock area collapsing, the storm surge undermining supports weakened by the submarine's violent departure.

"We need to secure him," the second man said, already moving. "Axel?—"

"On it." The operator shifted Spencer to Sophia's care. "Keep them here. We'll be right back."

Cassidy grabbed Axel's arm. "The dock's failing. You can't?—"

"It's what we do," Axel said gently but firmly. "Get back inside. That's an order."

The two operators vanished into the storm before anyone could protest further. Cassidy stood frozen, torn between following and obeying, until Sophia's hand on her arm made the decision.

"They know what they're doing," Sophia said, though worry crept into her voice. "Come on."

Heads bent against the rising wind, they fought their way back into what remained of the ballroom.

Back to Kenji.