14. Trust Circle
14
TRUST CIRCLE
Ronan followed Maya and Christian into the briefing room, his boots silent on polished concrete. The space carried that distinct mix of smells he remembered from command centers—fresh coffee, gun oil, and that peculiar scent of electronics running hot. But underneath was something unexpected—fresh-cut flowers from a vase near the windows. A domestic touch that felt jarringly out of place. And yet totally fitting. Reassuring, even.
Clean. Professional. Expensive.
But it was the team that caught his attention. Everyone displayed the casual confidence of operators who’d survived enough disasters together to become family. Austin dropped into a chair, boots on the table until Jack Reese smacked them off. He’d never admit it, but he’d read up on the Knight Tactical team to know Star and Ethan Hernandez by sight. The two cyber-security specialists were already deep in their own world of algorithms and data streams, finishing each other’s sentences.
The easy flow of people who trusted each other completely.
Christian stood apart, his expression distant. Probably going over every ugly detail of Ronan’s General Discharge in his mind. His perfect, polished brother who’d never made a wrong move in his life would have memorized every line of that report. Would have analyzed exactly how Ronan had managed to throw away a promising military career with one catastrophic decision.
Or so it looked.
Who was he kidding? These people had distinguished service records, successful civilian transitions, legitimate operations. And here he was, the guy with a General Discharge that might as well have been stamped “Suspected Traitor” in red ink. They had to be wondering if he was involved in whatever had gotten Marcus killed.
His gaze shifted to Axel, who looked like Christmas had come early. His friend was practically bouncing on his toes, drinking in the tech, the gear, the whole setup with unrestrained enthusiasm. Trust Axel to see this place as his version of Disney World, complete with innovative toys.
Then to Maya. He’d known her less than twenty-four hours, but her laser focus and fierce determination already impressed him. The Knight Tactical team would see it too—her quick mind, her unwavering sense of justice. The kind of federal agent who’d never compromise, never back down. Who’d earned every commendation in her spotless record.
At least their credibility might keep the team from assuming he was dirty. The black sheep of the group, sure, but not a threat.
He almost smiled at that thought. Black sheep. Story of his life. At least he knew the role by heart.
Old habits die hard. Ronan found himself analyzing the room dynamics, reading the team like he would’ve done before a mission. Jack stood at the head of the conference table, loose but alert, the kind of natural leader people followed without question. No surprise Admiral Knight had picked him to run operations.
The double doors swung open. Two women breezed in—both beautiful enough to stop traffic, one blonde, one dark-haired—juggling DreamBurger coffee carriers. Civilians, by their casual summer dress. A pair of towheaded toddlers clung to the blonde’s legs like determined koalas.
One of the twin boys broke free, making a wobbly sprint for Austin, who scooped him up without missing a beat in his conversation with Angie, the CIA officer.
The other twin zeroed in on Christian. The tiny man ran so fast he did a header straight into Christian’s leg, but his bio bro scooped the baby up before any damage was done.
Ronan’s breath caught as his stern-faced brother’s expression transformed, softening into a wide grin. Christian swung the little boy up onto his lap, accepting a sticky kiss.
At the head of the table, Jack smiled, shaking his head as he snagged a coffee and watched. “As usual, I’m chopped liver.”
Christian looked up from tickling the squirming kid in his lap. “Sorry. Not sorry.”
“Don’t worry. I still love you.” The stunning blonde brushed back Jack’s hair and bussed him on the cheek.
The man’s cheeks pinked. “Kelli, meet Ronan, Maya, and Axel. Guys, my wife. And the Twin Terrors.”
Maya wrinkled her nose. “You have a daughter, too, right?”
Pride shone in the man’s eyes. “Amelia. She’s at preschool.”
Smiling, the woman acknowledged them with a wave. “Sorry to break up the meeting, but the kids insisted on seeing Daddy.”
“And by that, you mean their uncles,” Jack corrected, laughing.
Axel turned his attention to the dark-haired woman. “So great to meet you, Mrs. Daggett. DreamBurger is ... Wow.”
“His favorite. By a million miles.” Ronan stepped in as Axel’s voice sputtered out. You’d think he was meeting the Beatles.
The cyber-guy, Ethan, patted his six-pack abs. “And the main reason we maintain that fancy gym downstairs.”
Nobody even blinked at having toddlers in a high-level tactical briefing. These people were more than a team—the casual touches, the inside jokes, the way they anticipated each other’s movements.
The fabric of Ronan’s tactical shirt suddenly felt rough against his skin, a physical reminder of how out of place he was. Even the air felt different here—warmer, softer somehow, carrying traces of baby powder and Lauren’s expensive perfume mixed with the lingering scent of weapons and tactical gear. A combination that shouldn’t work, but somehow did.
Jack’s twins were just part of their strange, deadly family.
So Bio Bro had managed to break the Murphy family curse. From what Ronan’s mother had told him, the Murphy men were, as far as she knew, completely allergic to emotion. And interpersonal ties.
Or at least that was his excuse.
Jack waited until Kelli and Lauren had corralled the twins out of the room before he took a seat and leaned forward. “Before we get into details, let’s be clear about what you need and what we can offer.”
“We need to clear our names,” Maya said immediately. “So I can get back to investigating two murders.”
“While staying alive,” Axel added. “That would be my vote.”
Jack nodded. “Knight Tactical specializes in complex operations requiring multiple skillsets. Investigation, protection, cyber intelligence, tactical response.” He gestured around the room. “Everyone here has an extensive military or law enforcement background. We’re licensed, bonded, and have connections throughout the intelligence community. Plus, we’ve been through this kind of deal ourselves.”
“More than once,” Star added.
“And what’s the cost?” Ronan asked bluntly. No point dancing around it.
Christian’s jaw tightened, but Jack held up a hand. “You’re family. Literally. And even if you weren’t, you’re SEAL brothers. No charge. But first, we need complete transparency from all three of you. Everything you know. Everything you suspect. No holding back.”
“That works both ways,” Maya said, her tone careful. “We need to know what you find. All of it. No sanitized briefings.”
“Agreed.” Jack looked at each of them in turn. “But understand what you’re buying into. We’re a team. We work together, or not at all.”
Ronan felt the weight of Christian’s stare. “And if we don’t like how you operate?”
“Then we part ways. But right now, you’re fugitives with limited options and powerful enemies. We can help. If you let us.”
Axel’s eyes were bright with possibility—or maybe just the thought of access to Knight Tactical’s impressive tech and unlimited DreamBurger meals. But beneath his eager expression, Ronan saw the tactical assessment running. His friend was convinced they needed backup.
Ronan met Maya’s questioning look. Much as he hated involving Christian’s team—hated giving his bio bro a front-row seat to his messed-up life—they were out of options. Tank was dead. Maya’s partner, too. Whoever was behind this had the resources to make three more people dead just as easily.
Not like they had any other choice. He gave Maya a tight nod.
She turned back to Jack. “We’re in.”