Page 63 of Deadly Hope
“Think about it,” she continued. “Men like Driscoll don’t just keep evidence of their crimes. They obsess over it. Control it.”
Voss nodded slowly. “That’s why he records everything. So he knows exactly what proof exists.”
“And how to destroy it,” Olivia finished. “We don’t need him to confess.” She looked around the cabin, seeing the idea catch like sparks arcing between minds. “We just need him to lead us to his own evidence by trying to eliminate it.”
“The moment he starts deleting files ...” Kenji’s fingers were already moving across his tablet again.
“He confirms they existed in the first place,” Axel said quietly. “Consciousness of guilt.”
“And his own surveillance system will record every move he makes.” Voss’s smile held a predator’s appreciation. “He built himself the perfect trap. All we have to do is make him spring it.”
The plane banked slightly, and Olivia felt the subtle shift in cabin pressure that meant they were starting their descent. They had less than twelve hours to put this plan in motion. To make a man like Driscoll reveal his own crimes in his desperate attempt to hide them.
It wasn’t a perfect plan. But it felt right in a way none of their other attempts had. Because this wasn’t about finding what James had left behind. It was about using what they knew about men like Driscoll. About power, and fear, and the mistakes people make when they fear they’re about to lose everything.
“Twenty-four hours,” Deke muttered, scribbling calculations. “Counting flight time, prep, positioning ... we’ll need to be wheels-up from Hope Landing by this time tomorrow.”
“Walk me through it.” Axel’s voice carried that familiar mission-focus edge. “Step by step.”
Kenji spun his tablet, displaying a 3D rendering of the Georgetown building. “External security is layered. Motion sensors, infrared, building management systems?—”
“I can kill the feeds,” Deke cut in. “Make it look like routine maintenance. But we’ll have a narrow window before their redundancies kick in.”
“Getting inside isn’t the problem,” Kenji continued. “It’s getting Driscoll to follow.”
“And once he’s inside?” Olivia asked.
“That’s where it gets interesting.” Kenji’s grin held a hint of mischief. “Ol’ Bing’s surveillance archives are like Fort Knox. State-of-the-art encryption, air-gapped servers, dedicated fiber lines ... Actually accessing that feed? That’s movie stuff. Pure fiction.”
“But making him think we have?” Voss raised an eyebrow.
“Simple psychology.” Kenji winked at Olivia. “Zara and I can spoof some convincing network artifacts, make it look like there’s been a breach. The right digital breadcrumbs, a few carefully crafted error messages ...”
The plan crystallized in Olivia’s mind. “Then we make contact and offer to trade what we ‘found’ in his files.”
“The more impossible the hack seems,” Kenji added, “the more he’ll believe we have had inside help. The kind that would know where his real secrets are buried.”
“And that’s when he’ll panic,” Voss concluded. “Try to purge anything that could validate our bluff.”
“Creating exactly the evidence we need.” Olivia felt the familiar pre-mission tension, equal parts anticipation and fear. “But the timing has to be perfect. He needs to believe the threat is immediate, critical?—”
“And coming from someone who knows exactly what they’re looking for,” Axel finished, his eyes meeting hers across the cabin.
The plane dived as Ronan made the final descent into Hope Landing. Through the window, Olivia could see the outline of the Knight Tactical hangar against the night sky. Home, or what passed for it these days.
While Ronan taxied to the hangar, the team gathered their gear with practiced efficiency. Olivia watched Voss move toward the exit, noting the careful way she favored her left side. Those injuries from the warehouse weren’t just for show.
A touch on her arm made her pause. Axel waited until the others had filed out before speaking.
“About Voss ...” He ran a hand through his hair, a rare tell of uncertainty. “I was wrong. Her intel’s solid. The plan’s solid.”
“But?” Olivia knew him too well to miss the reservation in his tone.
“But it’s too clean.” His voice dropped lower. “Think about it. A CIA operative with intimate knowledge of Driscoll’s operation. A perfect window of opportunity ...”
Through the cabin window, Olivia watched Margaret talking with Kenji near the hangar entrance, her gestures animated despite her injuries. “You think we’re being played?”
“Not necessarily ...” Axel chose his words carefully. “But I think when something looks too perfect, there’s usually a reason.”
