Chapter 21
The screen flickered, pixelated, then resolved into a face Sarah recognized from her dive into Griff’s background.
Ronan Quinn. The team leader Griff had described—dark-haired, sharp-featured, with eyes that probably missed nothing.
Even through the computer screen, he radiated command presence.
Behind him, Sarah could see a home office.
Ronan’s new wife, Maya appeared in frame, elegant and lethal in equal measure, her hand finding Ronan's shoulder.
The silence stretched for heartbeats.
Ronan broke first. He made a face, leaning closer to the camera. "What happened? You look like hammered garbage."
Griff waved off the question. “Long story.”
That earned him a dazzling grin. “I bet.”
From their photos, Sarah already knew Griff’s teammates were every bit as good-looking as he was. Tens. All of them. Was there something in the Hope Landing water? If so, Sarah wanted gallons of it.
Griff rocked back on his heels, crossing his arms over his impressive chest. “You look pretty good for someone Maya lets dress himself."
A ghost of a smile crossed Ronan's face, but it faded quickly. “So are you coming home, or what?”
Griff toed the rich carpet. Sarah fisted her hands, resisting the urge to jump into the conversation. These were his people.
“We need to talk,” Griff said. “I’ve got a line on Tank’s killers. On Stillwater. Maybe even Sentinel.”
Ronan held up a hand. "Let’s pull in the others," he said, fingers flying across his keyboard.
Within seconds, the screen split into multiple windows.
Axel Reinhardt appeared first, clearly mid-workout—built like a Viking with sweat still gleaming on his close-cropped hair.
Then Deke Williams, massive and kind-eyed, sitting in what looked like a church office with a cross visible on the wall behind him.
"Ghost?" Deke's voice was barely a whisper. "Brother, is that really you?"
More windows opened. Izzy Reyes materialized looking furious, short platinum-spiked hair disheveled. Kenji joined from what appeared to be a kitchen, flour dusting his shirt. Zara and Finn appeared in the same frame—they must have been together, both looking shocked.
"And you are?" Axel teased Griff, but there was no humor in his voice.
Griff flinched. "I'm sorry."
The bigger man shrugged and grinned softly. “I know.” Then his eyes widened. “Dude. What happened to your face?”
Griff opened his mouth, but Deke spoke first.
"Sorry?" Deke's quiet voice carried more weight than Izzy's anger. "Brother, we pray for you every night. Every. Night."
"You know I was onto Tank’s killers. Couldn’t risk bringing them down on you. Not yet," Griff said.
Deke glared. “Not your call, bro.”
“Maybe not. Happy to debate that later.” The big man scratched the top of his head and squinted at the camera. “Seriously.” He swirled a large finger in front of the lens. “What happened there? Looks painful.”
Izzy winked. “I know. Right? Can’t wait for this tale.”
Griff rolled his eyes. "Guys. Focus. I ran into someone else doing the same thing. Different angle."
She inched forward, wondering what these warriors would think of a desk pilot dressed in Fifth Avenue loungewear.
Griff pointed between her and the screen. "Team, Sarah Winters. Sarah, my team."
She leaned into view, very aware of multiple sets of highly trained eyes assessing her. She waved. "FBI forensic accountant. Or I was.” She faltered. “I mean until I got sent into the middle of Montana to––“
“––To be assassinated.” Griff cut in.
"FBI?" Ronan's tone was instantly suspicious.
"Analyst, not field agent. My supervisor is Patrick Hollings. Zara, Kenji, I'm sure you can verify all that in about thirty seconds."
The beautiful dark-haired woman looked up from her monitor and threw Sarah a bright smile. “Already done.”
The dangerous-looking man behind her, Finn, nodded. “She’s who she says she is.”
"How did you two meet up?" Maya gestured between her and Griff.
"She's been running her own investigation into the biological passport scheme," Griff explained. "Coming at Tank's killers from the financial side. Following the money while I followed the bodies."
"And they tried to kill you for it." Axel finished, shaking his head. “So typical.”
She nodded. "Sent me to Montana for 'emergency training.' Chechens were waiting."
"Sarah Elizabeth Winters. Clean background," Kenji informed his team. "Father was Army Intelligence, died 2014. Mother's a teacher in Connecticut. Commendations for three major fraud cases. No red flags."
"Your father was military?" Deke's tone warmed slightly.
"Colonel James Winters, 7th Intelligence Battalion. KIA Afghanistan."
That changed something in their expressions. Military family. One of them, in a way.
"Show them what you found," Griff said.
Sarah turned her laptop toward the camera, launching into her presentation.
"After you all took out Admiral Richardson, the biological passport scheme never ended. It expanded. Senator Buckley's been authorizing payments to Stillwater. His authentication code is all over these transactions. First we saw them paying bribes out. Now we know why—they’re being bankrolled by Buckley’s black budgets. Two sides of the same machine."
“So he’s running Sentinel,” Kenji said.
She pulled in a deep breath. "It gets worse. The Charleston Summit? It's what they're calling the Charleston Option. A false flag operation."
She forwarded them the termination lists, watched their faces as they found their own names.
"They're planning to kill us all," Axel said flatly.
"And blame it on domestic terrorists," Sarah confirmed. "Then they’ll be free to sell their fake biological passports to anyone who can write a big enough check."
Doc leaned into frame beside Sarah. "Which is why we're going to stop them."
Maya frowned. "Who are you?"
"Dr. Theodora Worthington," Doc said crisply. "Sarah's former professor. I've been providing... let's call it tactical support."
"A professor?" Axel’s skepticism was obvious.
"Among other things. I believe Admiral Knight might remember me from a joint task force in Prague, circa 2009."
Ronan’s jaw dropped. He blinked at Doc. "You're THAT Worthington? The one he said could—"
"Yes, well, John always did exaggerate,” she insisted, but Sarah could tell the praise pleased her.
Griff shot Doc a look. When Doc nodded, he turned back to the camera. “She’s got a stake in this, too.”
Most of his teammates acknowledged that solemnly, clearly understanding his meaning, but Ronan studied her for a little longer. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Doc bowed her head for a moment. A streak of daylight caught the white highlights in her hair. When she looked up again, it was all business. “Thank you. Now on to logistics. They expect you at the summit. You need to be there, but not how they expect."
"We can't pull out," Axel said. "That would tip them off."
"Agreed," Griff said. "We go, but we go prepared. And we go separately."
"But we're contracted as a team," Izzy protested.
"The contract says Knight Tactical provides security," Ronan said, thinking it through. "Not that we arrive together. We can stagger arrivals. I’ll cite logistics."
"I'll handle the official communication," Maya offered. "Tell them we're bringing equipment from different locations, need multiple vehicles."
"Good," Griff said. "We need to move carefully. They're watching for any change in pattern."
"Where's everyone now?" he asked.
"We’re all in Hope Landing," Ronan said. "We can be wheels up in an hour, right Iz?"
The petite Latina nodded. “Absolutely.”
Griff grunted. “Make a couple drops, say Nashville, Atlanta, a couple other metro areas within a couple days’ drive of Charleston and we’re golden. You can each arrive from a different point.”
"I get dibs on Nashville," Deke insisted. “No way I’m flying that close to BeeBee’s Barbecue without stopping in."
“Smart man,” Doc commented.
While the others planned their drop-off spots, Griff studied a map.
"Sarah and I leave at first light," he said.
Ronan and Axel nodded at each other over the cameras. “I’ll get Christian to arrange a safe house immediately,” Ronan said.
"I follow the day after in my own vehicle," Doc added. "I have resources you'll need—equipment, communications, things that can't travel with you officially."
"We stagger arrivals over the next seventy-two hours," Ronan decided. "No way they’ll locate the safe house, but they’ll be watching every traffic and surveillance camera surrounding Charleston. They’ll see at least a few of us heading into town.
So we need to make it look like logistics, not tactics. "
Griff thought for a minute before nodding. “Sounds good. That’ll give us another forty-eight to plan the mission.”
"I can arrange clean vehicles for backup transportation," Doc offered. "Things not tied to Knight Tactical."
"We'll need those," Ronan agreed. "Official vehicles for show, clean ones for reality."
"Radio check every six hours, beginning in the morning," Maya said. "Code phrase?"
"JFT. Justice for Tank," Deke suggested quietly.
Everyone nodded.
"Sarah's sending all the evidence," Griff said. "Study it during the drive. Know what we're walking into."
"This is insane," Kenji said.
"This is justice," Deke corrected. "For Tank."
A pause settled over the connection, heavy with the weight of what they were about to undertake.
"Before we go," Deke said, his deep voice gentle but firm, "we should pray."
Sarah's heart lifted. Someone else on this team of warriors shared her faith.
"Tank would want that," Deke continued.
Sarah saw various reactions across the screens—Ronan nodded immediately. Maya and Kenji bowed their heads. Izzy fidgeted but stilled. Beside her, Griff went rigid, his jaw tightening.
"Lord," Deke began, his voice carrying the confidence of deep faith, "we come before You seeking justice, not vengeance.
Guide our steps. Give us wisdom to see through deception, courage to face danger, and strength to protect the innocent.
Watch over us as we honor Tank's memory by finishing what he started. "
"Amen," came from multiple screens, and from the small woman standing beside her.
Sarah added her own quiet "Amen," but noticed Griff remained silent, his hands clenched on the table.
His eyes were open, staring at something beyond the screen.
She recognized that look—the struggle of someone who once believed but couldn't anymore, who wanted to pray but found the words stuck behind walls of grief and anger.
"Bring our brother Ghost back to us safely," Deke continued, and Sarah saw Griff flinch slightly. "And thank You for sending Sarah to help us find the truth. We trust Your plan, even when we don't understand it. In Jesus' name, Amen."
"Amen," Sarah said more firmly this time, watching Griff's profile. His lips moved slightly, as if forming the word, but no sound came out.
Griff cleared his throat. "We should go. Long drive ahead."
"Stay safe," Ronan said. "All of you."
"Ghost," Deke added, his tone knowing, "Tank's faith was big enough to carry us all. Still is."
Something flickered across Griff's face—pain, longing, loss.
"Together," he managed.
"Together," the team echoed.
The screens went dark one by one.
Sarah watched Griff slump back, exhaustion and something else—spiritual exhaustion, maybe—written across his face. His team was coming. His family of faith and warriors, walking into a trap with their eyes open and, for some of them at least, with God's protection sought.
"That was beautiful," Sarah said softly. "Deke's prayer."
"Tank and Deke," Griff said roughly. "The team's conscience. Always praying, even when—" He stopped, unable to finish.
"Even when you thought God wasn't listening?" Sarah supplied gently.
He nodded once, sharp.
"He's still listening," she said. "Even when we can't pray. Even when we're too angry or hurt to believe. He's still there."
Griff stood abruptly. "We need to go."
Doc appeared with car keys, having given them a moment. "Ready?"
"Ready," Griff said, but Sarah heard what he didn't say—ready for the mission, maybe, but not ready to confront the faith he'd lost along with Tank.
Sarah touched her cross pendant, sending up her own silent prayer for the man beside her who'd forgotten how to pray but whose lips still tried to form "Amen."
Time to drive toward danger. Time to spring a trap on those who thought they were the hunters.
Time for justice—and maybe, Lord willing, time for healing too.