Page 63 of Lost Hope

He let her guide him toward the Knight Tactical medical bay tucked in next to the workout area, very aware of her fingers still resting just above his elbow. He’d give it ten minutes, then they needed answers.

In the end, he endured twenty minutes of Maya hovering while Kenji cleaned and re-stitched his arm. Not that he minded having Maya around. She reminded him of the ocean—calm on the surface but with currents that could pull you under if you weren’t careful. And he was definitely in danger of drowning, especially when she looked at him with that mix of concern and exasperation.

The painkillers they gave him were barely enough to take the edge off—his insistence on staying clear-headed meant settlingfor something just above aspirin. Maya’s eyeroll suggested exactly what she thought of that decision.

Finally, Kenji snapped off his latex gloves. “He’ll do.”

While Kenji cleaned up, Maya helped Ronan shrug back into his shirt. “Be careful. If you pull those stitches playing hero again, I’m letting your mom interview you while you’re on the good drugs.”

“That’s just cruel.”

Her smile didn’t quite hide her concern. “Then don’t pull your stitches.”

They could hear the two vets’ enthusiastic voices carrying from the command center, punctuated by what sounded like Ethan and Zara giving them a technical rundown of the surveillance systems. His mother’s rapid-fire questions provided a steady backbeat to the chaos.

Through the windows of the medical bay, he saw Griffin standing slightly apart from the others, posture rigid as Axel and Deke tried to draw him into conversation.

“Something’s wrong,” Maya said quietly.

Ronan finished buttoning his shirt one-handed. “Let’s go find out what.”

30

TRIP WIRES

The command centerhad reached a new level of controlled chaos by the time Ronan and Maya arrived. Lawrence had apparently bonded with Kate over surveillance tech, the two of them hunched over his tablet while he demonstrated something involving thermal imaging. Mike Rutherford was regaling Victoria with a story about his Ranger days that had Christian pinching the bridge of his nose.

Jack and Austin were in their customary positions at the head of the conference table next to a stone-faced Deke, all of them looking slightly stunned. Ronan could see where the two energetic retirees, combined with the forces of nature that were his mother, and Lawrence Chen, might set anyone back on their heels. The top-tier security company had morphed into a mash-up of Golden Girls meets Die Hard.

Ronan tried to steer his mother away from the gray-haired Ranger. “Mom, that’s not actually relevant to?—”

“Everything’s relevant,” she countered, recording device at the ready. “Now, Mr. Rutherford, you were saying about the blood tests?”

The word ‘blood tests’ caught Kenji’s attention. He looked up from his borrowed station, where he and Star had been combing through data. “What blood tests?”

“The ones that made no sense,” Kate said, finally looking up from Lawrence’s tablet. “I went in for a cortisone shot for my sciatica. Somehow ended up giving enough blood for a platelet drive.”

Mike nodded. “Same here. Physical therapy for my knee turned into a vampire convention.”

“Standard protocol includes basic panels,” Kenji explained, but Mike was already shaking his head.

“Not like this. They took multiple vials, different colored tops. Said something about a new veteran wellness program.”

Griffin’s head snapped up. He’d been studying a terminal in the corner, deliberately distant from the group. “When exactly?”

“Three weeks ago,” Kate said. “Right after they changed my regular doctor.”

“Four weeks for me,” Mike added. “Different clinic, same deal. New doc, lots of tests.”

Maya’s father tapped his glasses against his chin. “Something about that library’s been bugging me. Star, honey, could you access the usage logs for the Santa Monica library for the past month?”

She laughed. “In a heartbeat.”

He nodded slowly. “Not hard to do, huh?”

Zara snorted this time. “A seventh grader could do it. Maybe a really talented fourth grader.”

He zoned in on Griff. “So really, anybody could.”

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