“We established that.”
“And now it just got complicated.”
Dakota’s mouth tightened. “I thought she was this sweet, sort-of-innocent travel inspector. Someone who evaluated hotels for a living and carried her dead sister’s Bible everywhere.” The words came out harder than he intended. “Instead, she’s a spy. A Black Swan operative who’s been lying to me since the moment we met.”
Ham was quiet for a moment. The bridge lights were starting to flicker on, one by one, as twilight deepened.
“You know what she did in Bangkok.”
Dakota’s hands tightened on the railing. “I know she corrupted the takedown at the warehouse and destroyed months of intel.”
“That’s one version.” Ham turned to face him, leaning against the railing. “Here’s another. She was deep cover—months of setup, embedded with Volkov’s network. When everything went sideways, she had a choice: maintain her cover and let Volkov escape with everything, or blow it all up and hope the destruction was worth the sacrifice.”
“She chose destruction.”
“She chose to stop him. And by the way, she saved Skeet’s and Chloe’s lives, more than once. So that counts.” Ham’s voice was steady. “That’s not betrayal, Dakota. That’s commitment. And it cost her her mission.” Ham met his eyes. “Maybe you should give her a chance to tell you the whole story.”
“I should have seen it coming. Should have known she was . . .”
“Was what?”
“Something other than what she said.” He couldn’t finish it. Couldn’t say playing me or using me or lying. The words stuck in his throat like broken glass.
Ham was quiet for a moment. Then, “You can’t anticipate everything. You’re good, but you’re not omniscient.” A pause. “Maybe that’s the point. Maybe you’re supposed to trust a little.”
“Who—her?”
“No. God. He’s the only one who sees it all. He’s the one who knows. And is on your side.”
Dakota just looked at him.
But weirdly, the prayer from last night rounded back to him . . . Help me see the truth, God.
“I know. Faith is scary for a guy who’s supposed to have all the answers. Scary for a guy who’s seen things go south and blames himself.”
Dakota looked away, jaw tight, something burning in his chest. “Yes,” he said finally. “Yes, it is.”
Ham was quiet for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was gentler. “The Bible says God works all things for good for those who love him and are called according to his purpose.”
“I want to think I do things for a good purpose.”
“It’s not just a good purpose. His purpose.” Ham turned to look at the bridge, the lights reflected on the dark water below. “That means committing our lives to him, even though we don’t know where we’re going. Trusting him, even in the darkness.”
“Even when I mess up?”
“He uses those moments to bring you closer to Himself. If you’ll let Him.”
Dakota stared at the water. The words landed somewhere deep, somewhere he’d been keeping locked for years.
“The reason faith is so hard,” Ham continued, “is that you think you know the best way. And you’re not sure God agrees. Sometimes He doesn’t do what you would do. But that’s man’s pride.” He paused. “You don’t like to be wrong. But you’re never wrong if you’re trusting in God for the outcome.”
Dakota let the words settle, feeling something shift in his chest that he couldn’t quite name.
Movement caught his eye through the glass doors.
Ham followed his gaze. A small smile crossed his face.
“I’ll leave you two to figure that part out.”
