Page 42 of Lost Hope

Maya felt her father shift beside her, that familiar protective energy radiating off him. She forced herself to focus on the data, not the raw ache of Tom’s loss.

“Tank—Marcus,” Ronan corrected himself, “was targeted first. Professional hit, made to look like a suicide.” His voice held barely controlled anger. “Right after he accessed restricted files.”

“Which means they were watching him,” Chen observed. “Probably watching you too.”

“And Agent Benson?” Christian asked carefully, his eyes on Maya.

“Wrong place, wrong time,” Christian answered before Ronan could.

Her father’s expression darkened. “The question is, what did Sullivan know that was worth all this?”

The screens flickered, Admiral Knight’s face appearing suddenly. He wasn’t smiling now.

“You’ll want to hear this,” he said grimly. “Richardson just called me back. This goes deeper than we thought.”

21

CALL SIGNS

Ronan shifted his weight,trying to quell the restless energy coursing through him as Admiral Knight’s face reappeared on screen. The yacht’s steering station was visible in front of him, crystal waters stretching to the horizon.

“Sentinel was hired to protect Captain Chen. Extract him to a secure location,” Knight said without preamble.

“Then why’d they chase us?” The words were out before Ronan could stop them. He felt Christian’s disapproving glare but kept his eyes on the screen.

“Fair question, son.” The admiral adjusted his course slightly. “Richardson says his team followed because they assumed you were hostiles who’d grabbed the captain before they could extract him.”

Ronan caught Axel’s subtle head tilt—his friend was thinking the same thing. It made a weird kind of sense, but ...

“They won’t disclose the client,” Admiral Knight continued. “But between us? Smells like Navy brass trying to contain?—”

“John Knight!” An elegant woman in resort wear appeared behind him. “Oh, hello everyone!” She waved, then smacked her husband’s shoulder. “I love seeing you all, but my husbandis supposed to be resting. Doctor’s orders after that heart incident.”

“Minerva, I’m fine?—”

“That’s what you said right before you collapsed at the Kennedy Center.”

The team’s gentle ribbing was respectful but swift, and they signed off leaving Ronan with a knot in his gut. Something wasn’t adding up. The pieces were there—Marcus’s death, Tom Benson, the frame job, Sentinel’s involvement—but the picture they formed made his skin crawl.

“We need to figure out what Tank died for.” His voice came out harder than intended, but he couldn’t soften it. Not when his friend’s killer was still out there. Not when Maya’s partner was dead because of whatever Marcus had stumbled into.

Christian nodded slowly. “Star’s been analyzing your friend’s movements. He spent significant time at VA clinics across Southern California.”

“His medical records show nothing,” Star added. “No personal appointments, no treatment. Man was healthy as a horse.”

“So why the medical visits?” Maya asked.

“A great question.” Ronan met Axel’s eyes. Finally, a place to begin their investigation.

“I’ll dig deeper into those VA visits,” Ethan said, already typing. “Cross-reference with staff schedules, security footage, anything that shows who Tank was meeting.”

“I’ll reach out to some contacts at the DOD,” Jack added. “See if anyone’s heard whispers about brass trying to contain something.”

Christian outlined the rest of the assignments. “Patrick and Austin, start mapping Sentinel’s recent operations. Look for patterns. Star, keep mining those traffic cams around Sullivan’s usual routes.”

Axel caught Ronan’s eye, tilting his head toward the door. Ronan followed him to a quiet corner, already tensing at his friend’s expression.

“We need to call them in,” Axel said without preamble.

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