Page 60 of Deadly Hope
“Complex,” Voss admitted. “But I can?—”
“We’ll handle security ourselves,” Axel cut in, brooking no argument. “Deke, get started on surveillance feeds of the area. Kenji, pull whatever records you can find. We need to know what we’re walking into.”
“What do you need me to do?” Olivia asked.
Axel glanced up, then away. Looking at her directly hurt too much. “You should stay with Zara. This kind of operation?—”
“He’s my brother, Axel. And whatever he left there, he meant for me to find it. I’m going.”
The room crackled with unspoken tensions. Axel felt them all pulling at him—the tactical risk of trusting Voss, the emotional risk of working closely with Olivia, the burning need to keep her safe warring with the knowledge that they needed her for this mission. Everything he’d feared about letting people get close was playing out in real time.
Finally, he nodded, keeping his voice professional, distant. “You stay with Deke’s team. Follow every instruction exactly. And if anything feels wrong?—”
“I know,” she said, and there it was—that same coolness he’d seen earlier. The walls going up on both sides. “But James is the key to finding Driscoll. And right now, this is our best lead.”
“Or our worst trap,” Kenji muttered, but he was already pulling up satellite imagery.
Axel buried himself in the tactical planning, ignoring the hollow ache in his chest. This was better. Safer. For everyone.
35
The Pilatus knifedthrough another patch of mountain turbulence, its sophisticated avionics doing little to smooth out the Rockies’ winter thermals. Axel forced his white-knuckled grip on the leather armrest to relax, fighting the cold sweat breaking out on his neck. The jet’s luxury interior—all brushed chrome and cream leather—felt like it was closing in on him.
“Minor chop ahead,” Griff’s steady voice came over the intercom. “We’ll head up out of it.”
Minor. Right.
Axel drew in a careful breath, using the counted inhale-hold-exhale pattern that usually worked. Usually being any time he wasn’t trapped in a metal tube thousands of feet above jagged mountains, with nothing but memory and bitter failure for company.
The Colorado Springs operation should have given them something. Instead, they’d spent fourteen hours executing a perfect infiltration of James’s storage facility, only to find dust-covered equipment and empty storage units. Whatever prototype James had been working on,whatever evidence he might have had against Driscoll was long gone.
Another jolt rattled the jet’s frame. Axel’s vision tunneled briefly, memories of Afghanistan threatening to surface. He focused on the present: the soft hum of the Williams engines, the familiar faces of his team scattered throughout the cabin, all showing various shades of exhaustion and defeat.
“Coming up on the leading edge of this system,” Ronan announced. “Might get sporty for a few minutes.”
Sporty.
Axel almost laughed. At least if they crashed into a mountainside, they wouldn’t have to explain to Admiral Knight how they’d burned through a few bazillion gallons of jet fuel only to come up empty-handed. The thought was bitter enough to ground him in the present, push back the memories trying to surface.
The plane banked slightly, its wingtip cutting through a cloud turned orange by the setting sun. Somewhere below, the Rockies stretched out like teeth, waiting. Just like their deadline, getting closer by the minute.
The jet leveled briefly, giving Axel’s stomach a moment’s peace. Three rows ahead, Izzy’s voice cut through the engine drone, soft but clear in the cabin’s acoustics.
“I know it’s scary, baby. Did you try the special flashlight I left you?” A pause. “Under your pillow, remember? The purple one with the unicorns ...” Izzy pressed her phone closer to her ear, turning toward the window. The motion caught the cabin lights, highlighting the shadows under her eyes from their thirty-hour op.
“No, sweetheart, there’s no such thing as shadow monsters. I promise.” Her voice cracked slightly. “Yes, I checked all the closets before I left. And behind the curtains, and under your bed. And thenAbuelitachecked again.”
Axel watched her free hand clench in her lap. He’d seenIzzy take down armed hostiles without flinching, but this—this was the kind of battle none of their training covered.
“Chantal, baby, putAbuelitaon for a minute, okay?” A longer pause. “Mom? Yeah, it’s bad tonight ... I know you checked, but she’s convinced something’s in there with her.” Izzy’s professional demeanor slipped further. “The child psychologist said this might happen, with me being gone so much ... No, Mom, please don’t cry. You’re doing everything you can.”
The plane hit another rough patch. Izzy steadied herself against the seat back, but her voice remained gentle. “We knew single parenting would be hard ... Yes, even with you there ... I know, Mom. I know.” Another pause. “Tell her Mommy’s helping people, just like always. Tell her I’ll be home soon.Te ama.”
She ended the call, staring at the dark phone screen for a long moment. When she looked up, catching Axel’s gaze, her eyes were bright with unshed tears.
“Her class is doing their holiday concert next week,” she said quietly. “They’re singing ‘I’ll Be Home for Christmas.’ Mom said Chantal refused to practice it.”
The words hung in the cabin air, heavy with all the sacrifices their work demanded. Not just from them, but from everyone who loved them.
