Page 46 of Deadly Hope
The team’s immediate stillness spoke volumes. Even Kenji’s perpetual motion stilled as Deke bowed his head. “Lord, guide our hands and hearts as we seek truth. Protectthose who protect others. And help us honor the sacrifice of those who’ve gone before. Amen.”
“Amen,” the team echoed softly.
Olivia noticed how Griff’s shoulders tensed slightly at the prayer, though his expression remained carefully neutral. Another piece of his puzzle, filed away for later consideration.
“I found something.” Zara’s voice cut through the morning quiet, her fingers stilling on the burner phone they’d retrieved from Switzerland. She pointed to barely visible digits on the phone. “This doesn’t make sense. Model number shows this hit the market eight months ago.”
“But James ...” Olivia couldn’t finish the sentence, but she didn’t need to. The implications hung heavy in the air.
“Someone’s been maintaining that safety deposit box,” Kenji said, already pulling up manufacturing data. “Accessing it. Recently. Without leaving any official trace.”
A shadow passed behind Griff’s eyes as he shifted position, angling for a better view of both the team and the snow-covered access road. The movement was so subtle Olivia might have missed it if she hadn’t been studying the team’s dynamics. They all had tells—Kenji’s nervous energy, Zara’s focused intensity, Deke’s contemplative stillness. But Griff ... Griff moved like someone who’d learned to inhabit negative space.
Present yet apart.
Axel moved closer, his shoulder barely brushing hers as he studied the phone. She’d started cataloging his protective behaviors—the way he positioned himself between her and potential threats, how his hand would drift to his weapon when uncertain variables entered their space. As a therapist, she should be analyzing these patterns clinically, noting how they connected to his PTSD triggers.
Instead, she found herself leaning slightly into the contact, drawing comfort from his solid presence.
“We have options,” Ronan said, his tactical mind already working the problem. “We can wait for another incoming contact?—”
“Or we can dig into this phone,” Zara finished. “But we’d need your permission, Olivia. Given the connection to your brother ...”
James’s voice echoed in her memory—countless conversations where he’d pushed her to trust her instincts.
Trust your gut, Liv. Sometimes the book answer isn’t the right answer.
“Do it,” she said quietly. “Whatever you need to do.”
Zara pointed at an older-looking laptop. “I need that. It’s isolated from the internet. And our systems.”
Kenji slid it over. With one last look at Olivia, Zara connected the phone to the computer. The tiny screen blinked to life.
The team moved with practiced efficiency—Zara and Kenji tag-teaming the technical analysis while Griffin adjusted security positions to compensate for their divided attention. Even Izzy’s casual slouch contained purpose, her eyes tracking multiple screens.
“Encrypted,” Zara announced after several minutes. “But ... elegantly. Like it’s meant to be found by someone who knows what to look for.”
“James was always thorough,” Olivia said, surprised by how steady her voice sounded. “He would have left a key. Something personal.”
She caught Axel watching her again, that particular intensity that made her skin tingle. He saw too much, this man who was supposed to be her patient. This man who kept finding ways past her carefully maintained boundaries.
“We’ll find it,” he said softly, and she wasn’t sure if hemeant the encryption key or something larger. “Whatever message he left, we’ll figure it out. Then we’ll figure out who left his message on a phone that didn’t exist before he died.”
From his corner, Griff made a sound that might have been agreement or warning—with him, it was hard to tell. His ocean-deep silence held volumes of unspoken experience, histories of other messages found too late, other secrets better left buried.
She nodded, not trusting her voice. Because right now, she wasn’t sure which scared her more—what they might find on that phone, or the way Axel’s quiet confidence was becoming necessary to her peace of mind. Or perhaps what terrified her most was how quickly this mismatched family of operatives had started feeling like home.
25
“Got something,”Kenji announced.
Axel felt the team converge with that fluid efficiency he’d come to trust. Out of habit, he positioned himself where he could see both the screen and the room’s entry points.
He was acutely aware of Olivia watching him. He shouldn’t notice these things—the way her breath changed when she was processing something difficult, or how she shifted from therapist mode to something more personal when she thought no one was looking.
“First gateway,” Zara said. “Looks like a prompt. ‘What falls when it’s cold out, but never breaks?’”
The answer hit him immediately, memory flashing to that first night at the safe house. Snow falling thick outside the windows, Olivia’s voice soft as she shared the story about James and their childhood traditions.
