Page 83 of Lost Hope

Ronan watched her examine the schematics, memorizing the tilt of her head, the way her finger traced possible entry points, how she finished his tactical thoughts before he voiced them. One more op. He could do this one last time—be professional, keep his distance, get the job done. Then he’d head off into the sunset. Find a job overseas. Something, anything, to put enough distance between them that he wouldn’t have to face this gut-wrenching fear every time she walked into danger.

He ignored the voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like his mother, asking if he really thought running would make it hurt any less.

41

SUNSET WATCH

The command vehicle’sair conditioning struggled against the late afternoon heat. Ronan swiped a hand over his sweaty forehead and shifted in the passenger seat, trying to find a position that didn’t aggravate his wound. Two days wasn’t nearly enough healing time, but no way he’d sit this out. Not with Maya there.

Through the windshield, he watched Ethan setting up the drone equipment, muttering about sight lines and thermal imaging. The van was parked in what looked like an ordinary scenic overlook, offering a clear view of both the Golden Gate Bridge and the converted Nike missile site. Tourists came and went, snapping photos, completely unaware of the fortress beneath their feet.

“I mean, seriously?” Ethan’s voice crackled through the comms. “Underground lair. Secret passages. Probably has a white cat somewhere in there.”

The driver’s side door opened and Maya slid in, bringing a wave of fresh air and tension with her. “Deke’s team is in position,” she reported, all business. “They’ve found the maintenance tunnel entrance.”

Ronan nodded, pulling up the thermal imaging on his tablet. His arm protested the movement, and he couldn’t quite hide the wince.

Maya noticed—of course she did. “Should you be?—”

“I’m fine.” The words came out sharper than intended. He softened his tone. “Christian’s team?”

“Moving into tourist cover now.” She pulled up her own tablet, careful to maintain the professional distance between them in the confined space. “Axel’s complaining about the hiking boots.”

“Of course he is.”

They settled into an awkward silence, watching the feeds as their teams took position. The sun was starting to set, painting the bay in colors too beautiful for a mission like this. Tourist traffic was thinning out.

Ronan knew he should focus entirely on the operation, on monitoring their teams, on watching for threats. Instead, he found himself asking, “What’s next for you? After this is over?”

He felt rather than saw her surprise at the question. “Assuming we survive your tech billionaire’s Bond villain basement?”

“Assuming.”

Maya was quiet for a moment, studying the feeds. “There’s work to be done at Hope Landing. Real work, not just cleaning up Richardson’s mess.” She paused. “The whole team could do good there. You all could.”

The suggestion caught him off guard. “My team’s not a thing. Not anymore.”

“You should be. You’re good for each other.”

Before he could process that—or his unexpected reaction to it—Christian’s voice cut through on comms.

The sun had nearly set now, painting the command vehicle’s interior in deepening shadows. In the dim light, it was harder tomaintain the careful distance between them. Harder to ignore the familiar way she analyzed data, the quick insights he’d come to rely on these past few days.

“Maya ...” he started, not sure what he was going to say.

Her tablet chirped. “Movement in the tunnel,” she reported, instantly professional. “Deke’s team has contact.”

The mission was starting. Whatever he’d been about to say would have to wait.

It always did.

They watched Deke’s body cam footage as his team moved through the maintenance tunnel. The infrastructure was pure Cold War—thick concrete walls, heavy blast doors, emergency lighting that cast everything in sickly green.

“Point team reaching first junction,” Deke whispered. “No contact.”

Ronan frowned at the thermal imaging. “Too quiet. We should be seeing patrols.”

“Underground’s clear,” Christian reported from his position. “Moving to phase two.”

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