“We need eyes and ears inside the compound,” West says. “It’s a safe bet none of our tech is going to work beyond those walls. Not unless we can figure out exactly what’s so special about the phones Simon uses.” He nods to Ripper, and the hacker holds up two small, black pieces of plastic, each the size of my thumb.
“These should be able to clone the signal. If we can get it close enough to one of his men. We’ll need an hour to figure out how to counteract his jammers. Maybe two.”
Two hours? There’s no fucking way she’s spending two hours with that asshole.
Ryker shoots me a look when I start to get to my feet. I promised him I’d listen, so I sink back down and rest my head against the wall.
Across the room, West clears his throat. “In twenty minutes, Hope will reply to Simon’s last message and tell him where he can pick her up. How close to one of his special phones does the receiver need to be?”
“Eight feet,” Ripper says. The strain to his voice sets me on edge. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold it together. Or how I’m supposed to let Hope go, knowing she could be trapped in that house for two hours.
Simon could kill her in minutes. Or spend the whole time beating the crap out of her.
“Hope, you’ll have a GPS tracker with you. We’ll lose the signal once you’re inside the compound, but we’ll get it back as soon as we can disable whatever tech he’s using. Try to get him to take you to Bettina, and stay there.”
“What if he doesn’t let me?” she asks. “He’s seen the plane. He’ll want to know who brought me here.” Her voice breaks, and I can’t sit still any longer. I have to hold her. To protect her for as long as I’m able. Shouldering past Ryker, I wrap my arms around her from behind.
The way she melts against me? I love this woman. Nothing in my life has ever mattered more than keeping her safe. “The best lies have a grain of truth to them,” I say, my lips close to her ear. “If he interrogates you, tell him I brought you here. That we fought because I wanted to kill him.”
Hope turns in my arms, panic in her eyes. “But then he’ll know you’re coming!”
“He’ll know Wyatt’s coming,” West says. “One man. Not a team of five.”
“Six,” I say, meeting his gaze over Hope’s head. “We’re six. I’m not staying in the van.”
Ryker growls an oath, and West holds up his hand. “Yes, you are. We’re headed into a shitshow with limited intel, and you’re compromised.” Before I can protest again, he slants a quick gaze to Ripper. Fuck.
Ry didn’t want me and Hope in the van to protect us. He wanted us to stay with Ripper. The man’s fighting his worst memories twenty-four-seven. He left Seattle—Cara and Charlie—for me. For Hope. The way his shoulders hunch, how he flinches whenever anyone comes near, and the constant tremble in his fingers? He’s hurting. Maybe not physically, but in every other way possible.
Rip needs an anchor. Can I really let these men and women risk their lives while I sit by and do nothing to be that for him?
If Hope dies, my life is over.
“Ry? A minute?” I nod toward the kitchen, and he follows me while West continues going over the plan. “Don’t shut me out on this.”
Pain etches lines around his eyes, and he shakes his head. “I need you to stay with Rip. If anything goes wrong—if I don’t come back—”
“Stop right there. You don’t think I see it? How hard this is for him? He doesn’t need me. He needs you. So does Wren. And the baby. I’m not the one who should stay in the van. You are.”
Whatever Ryker was expecting me to say, that wasn’t it. He rubs a hand over the top of his head and blows out a long, slow breath. “I don’t stay in the van. Never have.”
“But you’ve stayed in Seattle for six months. Because you know any mission could be your last. Yet you’re here. Why? Because I just happened to be there when you crawled out from under a dead bush eight clicks from Hell.”
“I told you. We’re family,” he says, keeping his voice low.
“So prove it.” Arms crossed over my chest, I stare him down—or up, as he has more than six inches on me. “Prove to me that you know what family means. Stay in the van with your brother, and when this is all over—whatever happens—go back home to your wife and baby.”
“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters. “West’s plan—”
“West can alter the plan. But the orders have to come from you.” I reach out and grasp his arm just below the elbow. “I need to be a part of this, Ry. No matter how hard it is. I’ll keep my shit together. For Hope, I can do it.”
“I need your word—no, your promise. And before you answer, I’m gonna tell you what that means to me. To all of us.” His eyes take on a soft shimmer, and from the way his body tenses, this is serious shit. “Wren lost her brother. Before Russia. She’d raised Zion after their mom ran out on them when he was still a kid. Promises meant everything to them, and when Z died…” He shakes his head, and his hand goes to the back of his neck for a long moment. “Promises led her to me. So this team—all of us here and everyone in Boston—we agreed. You never make a promise unless you’re damn sure you can keep it.”
“I hate this plan. The last thing I want is to send Hope anywhere near that asshole. But I trust West—and you—so, I promise. I’ll follow orders, and I won’t lose control again.”
His quick nod is all I get. But it’s enough. When Ryker McCabe makes a decision, he never looks back.
Hope
