Page 43 of Deadly Hope
“¡Que tenges un buen día en la escuela, mi amor!” Izzy’s voice carried from the window alcove where she was video chatting on her tablet. “Make good choices, Chantal. Mami loves you.”
The six-year-old’s gap-toothed smile filled the screen. “Love you too! Will you be home for my dance recital?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for anything, baby girl.” Izzy blew a kiss before ending the call, her expression softening in a way it only did for her daughter.
“I’m sorry,” Olivia said quietly from her position on the antique settee. “You shouldn’t have to be away from her because of my problems.”
Izzy’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me? This job? Thisteam? It’s exactly where I want to be.” She grinned fiercely. “Besides, my daughter needs to see that women can be kick-butt security specialists who don’t take garbage from anyone—especially men.”
Olivia smiled at Izzy’s declaration, documents spread around her, face set in lines of concentration he was learning to read. The professional mask she wore was good, but he’d noticed the way her fingers kept straying to that compass, how her eyes occasionally unfocused, seeing something—someone—far away. Dealing with James’s ghost couldn’t be easy.
Ronan and Zara worked the comms station. Griffin cleaned his rifle with methodical precision while monitoring exterior feeds. Kenji had transformed the formal dining table into a mobile command center, three laptops running. The team moved with practiced efficiency, but Axel felt the underlying current of unease. Driscoll’s appearance in that photo changed everything.
“Hey.” Kenji’s voice cut through the quiet. “We’ve got a problem.”
Axel crossed to the table in four strides, noting the alert flashing on Kenji’s main screen.
“Someone’s in our systems. Knight Tactical’s primary servers.” Kenji grimaced. “No physical breach, but ... this is weird.”
Security feeds filled the screens—empty halls, sealed doors, everything exactly as it should be. Except ...
“There.” Kenji highlighted code scrolling past. “Someone’s walking through our firewalls like they’re not even there.”
The team shifted into incident response without a word. Ronan moved to a secondary system. Zara pulled up access logs. Griffin abandoned his rifle for a thermal scan of their current safe house. “All clear here.”
“Precision breach,” Axel muttered. “Professional.”
“Very.” Kenji’s expression was grim. “They know exactly what they’re looking for.”
Olivia appeared at Axel’s shoulder, close enough that he caught the faint scent of her shampoo. She studied the screens, head tilted slightly. “You’re all braced for an attack,” she said quietly. “But your body language ... you’re confused more than threatened. Like when a client presents with symptoms that don’t match the expected diagnosis.”
Axel glanced at her, surprised by the insight. She met his gaze steadily, and he was reminded that reading people was literally her profession. Before he could respond, Kenji jabbed a slender finger at his screen.
“Found what they accessed. Or rather, what they’re accessing right now.” Zara brought up a new window. “They’re pulling everything we have on Olivia’s protection detail. Personnel, response patterns?—”
“They’re studying our weaknesses,” Axel finished, ice settling in his gut as old instincts screamed to life.
The next ten minutes transformed the villa’s living room into a war room. Screens filled with cascading data as Zara and Kenji worked their computers. “The intrusion pattern ... I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Axel leaned over Kenji’s shoulder, frowning at the code. This was ... elegant. Professional. Almost respectful, if digital breaking and entering could be called that.
“Pull up the access logs,” he ordered. “What are they actually touching?”
Zara was already moving, her system mirroring Kenji’s. “Digital footprint’s crazy clean. No backdoors, no malware ... it’s like they’re using our own keys.”
“Timeline’s weird too,” Kenji added, mapping the intrusion patterns. “They’re taking their time, methodical. Most hackers grab and run.”
Griffin looked up from correlating physical security feeds. “No signs of on-site support. Nobody’s watching the building, no suspicious vehicles.”
“I’ve got something else,” Kenji said. “They’re accessing personnel files ... security plans ... duty rosters ...” His voice trailed off. “Everything’s specific to Olivia’s detail. Nothing else.”
“Deke,” Ronan called out. “Run checks on all client interactions from the past month. Anyone asking unusual questions about our procedures?”
“On it,” Deke’s drawl crackled back. “But our clients aren’t exactly technical wizards.”
Izzy moved to the main security console. “All current safeguards holding. But if they’re this deep in our systems ...”
The pieces clicked together in Axel’s mind. The precision. The focus. The professional courtesy of leaving everything else untouched. A memory flashed—another operation years ago, where they’d discovered their target had been watching them for weeks, learning their patterns ...
