Page 51 of Lost Hope

- Must be certified in Echo-Eight containment procedures

Project involves assessment of library security systems.

Submit credentials to: Dr. Sarah Nightingale

Coastal Research Division

Reference ID: SEAL-1408-M3

Ronan clapped. “Outstanding, Major. Outstanding.”

The Knight Tactical crew eyed the posting, looking as clueless as she felt.

“Care to fill us in?” Christian asked before she could.

Axel stepped up to the closest screen and went down the list. “Nordic equals Copenhagen. Obviously.”

Christian rolled his eyes. “For sure. I think we’re following. Go on.”

“Right.” Axel pointed to the next line. “Ghost is Griff’s call sign. Echo-Eight, our team designation. Ocean Beach was Griff’s preferred surf spot before he joined the Navy.”

“The meeting will take place at 1408. That’s an inside joke,” Izzy added. “Old Ax-man here could never get anywhere on time, so we always started our workouts and meetings at eight after the hour. Only we never clued him in.”

Christian grunted. “Then M3 is Muscle Beach on Third Street. I like it.”

Ronan and Maya—everyone but his own people—stared at the man.

“What?” Christian attempted to look innocent. “I’m not all good looks.”

“He’s right,” Ronan said. “It’s perfect. Only the team would know about Axel’s timing issue, and Griffin would recognize?—”

Star interrupted, urgency sharpening her voice. “We’ve got another problem. Someone else is accessing Marcus’s encrypted cloud files. Right now.”

“Define ‘someone else,’” Christian demanded, moving to Star’s station.

“Multiple searches,” she responded. “All VA facilities in Southern California. Patient records, staff schedules, security protocols—” She went still. “They’re methodically accessing every clinic Marcus flagged. Like they’re hunting.”

“Hunting Griffin?” Maya asked.

“Or hunting anyone Marcus was trying to protect.” Kenji’s voice was grim. “Those disappearances and deaths your friends traced? They’re accelerating. Three in the past week.”

Star pulled up a timeline. “If this pattern holds?—”

“We’ve got less than forty-eight hours before the next one,” Ethan finished.

Maya felt Ronan tense beside her. “Griffin knew. That’s why he’s surfacing now.”

“He’s not just leaving us breadcrumbs,” Axel said quietly. “He’s running out of time.”

24

PARENT TRAP

Ronan watchedhis team demolish the impressive spread of sandwiches and snacks Christian and Ethan had assembled. Some things never changed—Deke still ate enough for three people, Izzy still stole pickles off everyone’s plates, and Kenji still arranged his food in precise geometric patterns before eating.

The familiar scene twisted something in his chest. For a moment, it could have been any mission briefing from before. Before Copenhagen.

“Man, you guys eat like this every day?” Izzy asked around a mouthful of turkey club. “We were lucky to get MREs between ops.”

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