Page 62 of Deadly Hope
The unspoken truth hung heavy in the cabin. Three years of searching, and they were no closer to proving Driscoll’s corruption than the day James died. Olivia slumped in her seat, the defeat in her posture painful to witness.
“I’ve been over everything a hundred times,” she said quietly. “If James left clues, I can’t find them. Maybe ... maybe we were wrong. Maybe there was nothing to find.”
“You know what’s interesting?” Voss’s voice cut through the hopeless silence. “Driscoll records everything. Paranoidabout being misquoted by the press. Has cameras and mics in every office, every meeting room.”
“We know,” Kenji said. “Man documents his whole life. What’s your point?”
Voss leaned forward. “James spent years running ops against guys like Driscoll. He knew how they thought, how paranoid they were about protecting themselves.”
The energy in the cabin shifted subtly. Axel could almost see the idea taking shape, spreading from person to person like a current.
Olivia sat up suddenly, her eyes wide. She turned to Voss, then Axel. “What if we’re chasing the wrong thing? What if there is no evidence?”
“Then we’re sunk.” Axel didn’t mean to put it so bluntly, but there it was.
“I don’t think so.” Olivia didn’t seem deterred.
A slow smile spread across Margaret Voss’s face. “We don’t need evidence. We just need Driscoll to believe we have it.”
Right. Of course. Axel did a mental face palm.
“We dangle the bait and watch how he reacts,” he finished, feeling the familiar surge of adrenaline that came with a plan taking shape.
“Right?” Olivia’s eyes sparkled, her entire form infused with new purpose.
For the first time in hours, hope flickered in the cabin. They had less than forty-eight hours to make Driscoll believe they had the proof to destroy him—and wait for him to come after them.
The jet’s landing gear deployed with a heavy thunk. Below, Hope Landing’s lights spread out like a constellation.
Game on.
36
Olivia feltthe shift in the cabin’s energy.
Kenji’s fingers flew across his tablet. “Pulling Georgetown office schematics now. Original blueprints, recent renovations, utility layouts—” His voice held the focused excitement of a kid with a new puzzle.
“Security rotations?” Deke was already sketching patterns in his notebook, the way he always did, mapping time and space into a mathematical grid. “We’ll need their shift changes, response protocols?—”
“I can help with that.” Voss pulled up her own tablet, and Olivia noticed how naturally the CIA operative had shifted into their rhythm. “Driscoll’s confirmation hearing is scheduled for noon on Thursday. That means he’ll be at his Georgetown office early the day before—he’s religious about his pre-event routine.”
“How religious?” Axel asked from the back.
“5:30 a.m. arrival, like clockwork. Spends an hour or two reviewing everything alone before his staff shows up.” Voss’s precision spoke of long observation. “He travels with fourpersonal security contractors, all ex-military. Two teams of two, rotating coverage.”
Kenji whistled softly at something on his screen. “The building’s locked down tight. Biometric access, motion grid, closed-circuit cameras on every approach.”
Perfect. A man that paranoid would be looking for threats everywhere. All they had to do was make him see one.
“Bluffing a man like Driscoll ...” Kenji set his tablet down, shaking his head. “The moment he realizes we’re playing him?—”
“Game over,” Deke finished. “Not just for the mission. For us.”
“We get one shot at this.” Kenji’s usual easy manner had hardened into something more urgent. “If he calls our bluff, he’ll bury the evidence so deep we’ll never find it. And then he’ll bury us.”
Olivia felt the weight of their concerns, but something else was taking shape in her mind. “What if that’s exactly what we want him to do?”
The others turned to her. Even Axel shifted forward in his seat.
