23. Inside Language
23
INSIDE LANGUAGE
Maya leaned against the command center wall, watching the two teams settle into a rhythm as natural as breathing. The soft symphony of typing from multiple keyboards mixed with the gentle hum of cooling fans from overworked computers. Even after two years apart, Ronan’s people moved around each other like dancers in a well-rehearsed ballet. And the Knight Tactical crew was no different—each person anticipating the others’ needs, finishing sentences, sharing looks that spoke volumes.
Seven years in law enforcement, and what did she have? A dead partner and a father who thought helping meant taking over.
Lord, what are you trying to show me here?
Zara worked three keyboards simultaneously. “Got something on Griffin. Digital signature, forty-eight hours old. He accessed a terminal at the Santa Monica Public Library.”
“Finally, the ghost made a mistake,” Austin said.
“Griff Hawkins doesn’t make mistakes,” Kenji and Izzy said in perfect unison.
Deke nodded. “Man’s been off-grid for two years. If he left a trace?—”
“He wanted us to find it,” Axel finished.
“I’ve got a visual,” Ethan announced. “It’s fuzzy, but?—”
Ronan leaned over his shoulder. “That’s our boy.” He pulled back, face contorting as if he’d been slapped.
Maya touched his arm. The man vibrated tension in waves. “What?”
He pointed at the reflection in the tiny reading glasses perched on his friend, Griffin’s wide face. “The mermaid. It’s the Hans Christian Andersen Mermaid statue. In Copenhagen.”
The temperature in the room plummeted. The subtle change in breathing patterns rippled through the room like a wave. Quick glances exchanged between team members like a silent morse code.
“You’re talking about Copenhagen. Why?” Axel’s voice was carefully neutral.
Ronan nodded. “Griff’s telling us this has to do with Copenhagen.”
“Copenhagen.” Axel repeated the word, as if it tasted like ash. “As in the Copenhagen Op? Just want to be clear here.”
Ronan met his friend’s gaze. “‘Fraid so.” He stepped away from the group and shoved his hands in his pants pockets, staring at the ground.
The op where he’d killed a civilian. Whatever Ronan was about to say, it was bad.
“The facility we compromised?” Kenji’s voice held old pain. “The one where you?—”
“The one where I violated ROE. Yup.” The bleak look in Ronan’s eyes made her tear up. “I think they found a connection,” Ronan said. “Between Copenhagen and these deaths. Griffin was trying to tell me without tipping off anyone watching him.”
The room fell silent again as implications sank in.
“Why didn’t he come to us directly?” Izzy asked finally.
“That’s what we need to find out,” Ronan said. “Before they find him first.”
He eyed the Knight Tactical crew who were watching all this, faces carefully blank. “Look, guys, I can take the time to explain the op to you, but it’s probably quicker if you just access the files. There’ll be details there I probably don’t remember. And background that might lead us to our next clue.”
“On it,” Ethan said and jumped back onto his computer. “I’ll check all the way up the chain of command.”
“I’ll check State and the CIA,” Star added.
Ethan grinned, waggling his eyebrows. “See why I love her?”
His glaring attempt to lighten the mood fell flat, but Maya could have hugged him for trying.
Clearly oblivious to the subtext in the room, her dad clapped his hands together, shifting into his familiar “teaching stance”—shoulders back, chin lifted. “Good. So we’re moving now. Let’s dig into this guy’s message and move forward, people.”
She gritted her teeth, biting back a sarcastic remark. Adding more fuel to the emotional fire raging between Ronan and his team wouldn’t help.
Her father clapped again, that familiar gleam in his eye. “When I worked Narcotics, we used to leave signs for deep cover agents. Special codes?—”
The sharp contrast between her father’s too-cheerful voice and the room’s tension made Maya wince.
“Dad, this isn’t 1992. We can’t just?—”
“Actually,” he pressed on, “there was this one time in Hancock Park?—”
“When you single-handedly saved the city?” she muttered.
Ronan caught her eye across the room, his lips twitching despite looking like he’d just been punched in the gut.
But there was something else happening—something in the way his team watched him. Worry in Kenji’s careful observation. Anger in Izzy’s sharp retorts. Some undefined debt in the way Deke positioned himself, always between Ronan and the door. Like they were all carrying something heavy. Something that had to do with why their leader had let them down and then walked away three years ago.
Another mystery , she thought. But right now, they had to figure out how to answer Griffin’s breadcrumb trail before it went cold.
Maya watched Ronan trying to clear a wave of emotion from his face, saw the weight settle on his shoulders. And saw how his team—both teams—shifted subtly closer, holding him up without touching him.
“We need to be smart about this,” Ronan said. “Griffin won’t respond well to a tactical team descending on Santa Monica.”
Their eyes locked. Maya felt that now-familiar spark of attraction, tangled with irritation. “And waiting around while we debate this is better?”
“The Ghost spooks easy,” Izzy added, glancing between them with interest. “Trust me, you don’t want to see him riled.”
Maya stepped closer to Ronan. “My case, remember? My jurisdiction.”
They were almost toe to toe now, Ronan giving no ground. “And Griff isn’t some suspect you can just?—”
The soft squeak of tactical boots on polished floors echoed as people shifted positions, tension building in the room.
“Children,” Lawrence interrupted cheerfully. “If I might suggest?—”
“Dad, not now.”
“Lawrence, please.”
They’d spoken in unison. Maya felt heat climb her neck as Deke poorly disguised a laugh with a cough.
“The library’s public,” Star offered diplomatically. “We could set up surveillance?—”
“And scare him off completely,” Axel said. “Griffin’s not going back there anyway.”
“But he’ll be watching it,” Zara mused. “He’ll want to know who responds to his message.”
Maya could feel Ronan’s warmth, smell that hint of soap and gunpowder. It was distracting. Irritating. “So we leave our own message.”
“Using your dad’s old undercover codes?” The corner of Ronan’s mouth lifted.
She wanted to kiss him. Or punch him.
“Actually,” her dad said, “I was thinking something more modern. Something that would look innocent to anyone else, but Griffin would recognize ...”
Maya watched understanding dawn in Ronan’s eyes. She might not like it, but the man was sharp.
“A job posting,” they said together.
This time, the heat in her cheeks had nothing to do with embarrassment.
“A help wanted ad,” her dad suggested, warming to his topic. “For a security consultant position. With extremely specific requirements.”
Maya caught on. “Requirements only your friend would recognize as significant.”
“I hear you.” Deke grinned. “Like the dates of certain ops.”
“Or locations that mean something to the team,” Kenji added.
Ronan nodded slowly. “Posted from an IP address he’d recognize.”
“I can make it look like it came from Marcus’s old terminal,” Zara offered. “He’ll be monitoring that.”
Maya felt her frustration building. They were all so in sync, finishing each other’s thoughts while she stood on the outside. And Ronan ... he’d shifted seamlessly into team mode, that wall going up between them again.
“And what if someone on the other team recognizes those codes?” she challenged.
Ronan turned those intense eyes on her. “That’s why we need to be precise. Choose markers only Griffin would know.”
“Mission protocols from the Copenhagen op,” Axel said quietly.
The team went still. Maya watched emotions flash across their faces—pain, guilt, something darker.
“He’d recognize those,” Izzy whispered.
“Care to share with the class?” Maya asked, unable to keep the edge from her voice.
“No,” Ronan said flatly, and for a moment the tension between them crackled like lightning. He turned to his computer guru. “Let’s do it. Zara, can you?—”
“Already coding. Give me a sec.”
Maya moved closer to Ronan, lowering her voice. “You can’t shut me out of parts of this investigation just because they’re classified.”
He turned, bringing them face to face. “Some secrets aren’t mine to share.”
“But they’re Griffin’s secrets too, aren’t they?” She held his gaze. “The man we’re trying to save?”
Something shifted in his expression—surprise, maybe even admiration. But before he could respond, Zara spoke up.
“What do you think?” She threw up an announcement on the big monitors mounted to the walls.
SECURITY CONSULTANT NEEDED
Boutique risk management firm seeks experienced security specialist
Location: Santa Monica, CA
Requirements:
- 8-10 years military/security experience
- Advanced training in Nordic emergency protocols
- Familiarity with Ghost surveillance systems
- Must be certified in Echo-Eight containment procedures
Project involves assessment of library security systems.
Submit credentials to: Dr. Sarah Nightingale
Coastal Research Division
Reference ID: SEAL-1408-M3
Ronan clapped. “Outstanding, Major. Outstanding.”
The Knight Tactical crew eyed the posting, looking as clueless as she felt.
“Care to fill us in?” Christian asked before she could.
Axel stepped up to the closest screen and went down the list. “Nordic equals Copenhagen. Obviously.”
Christian rolled his eyes. “For sure. I think we’re following. Go on.”
“Right.” Axel pointed to the next line. “Ghost is Griff’s call sign. Echo-Eight, our team designation. Ocean Beach was Griff’s preferred surf spot before he joined the Navy.”
“The meeting will take place at 1408. That’s an inside joke,” Izzy added. “Old Ax-man here could never get anywhere on time, so we always started our workouts and meetings at eight after the hour. Only we never clued him in.”
Christian grunted. “Then M3 is Muscle Beach on Third Street. I like it.”
Ronan and Maya—everyone but his own people—stared at the man.
“What?” Christian attempted to look innocent. “I’m not all good looks.”
“He’s right,” Ronan said. “It’s perfect. Only the team would know about Axel’s timing issue, and Griffin would recognize?—”
Star interrupted, urgency sharpening her voice. “We’ve got another problem. Someone else is accessing Marcus’s encrypted cloud files. Right now.”
“Define ‘someone else,’” Christian demanded, moving to Star’s station.
“Multiple searches,” she responded. “All VA facilities in Southern California. Patient records, staff schedules, security protocols—” She went still. “They’re methodically accessing every clinic Marcus flagged. Like they’re hunting.”
“Hunting Griffin?” Maya asked.
“Or hunting anyone Marcus was trying to protect.” Kenji’s voice was grim. “Those disappearances and deaths your friends traced? They’re accelerating. Three in the past week.”
Star pulled up a timeline. “If this pattern holds?—”
“We’ve got less than forty-eight hours before the next one,” Ethan finished.
Maya felt Ronan tense beside her. “Griffin knew. That’s why he’s surfacing now.”
“He’s not just leaving us breadcrumbs,” Axel said quietly. “He’s running out of time.”