Page 27 of Crossfire Creek Siege

The photo changed to a more recent image. Brady in a suit, at some kind of charity gala, clean-cut but with that same dead stare.

“Since then,” Noah continued, “he’s been trying to ‘expose the hypocrisy’ of Crossfire Ops, Strike Force, and Maverick Ops. His words, not mine.”

Garrett snorted. “That’s rich coming from a guy who tried to sell his own mission footage to a defense contractor.”

Noah didn’t disagree. “He’s held a grudge for months. Blames us for abandoning him.”

Gage rubbed a hand across his jaw. “Holding a grudge’s one thing, but coordinating an assault on a fortified compound? That takes serious cash.”

Noah nodded, grim. “He’s got it. His wife was killed three months ago in what was reported as an industrial accident. She was the sole heir to a family trust worth eight figures.”

“Damn,” Gage muttered. “So now he’s rich, angry, and out for revenge.”

“Exactly,” Noah said. “And he’s got the resources and the training to pull something like this off.”

Rena exhaled softly beside Gage. “Then maybe we just found our bastard.”

Gage wasn’t sure yet. But looking at Brady Halden’s cold eyes on that screen, he knew one thing. This guy didn’t just want justice. He wanted to make Crossfire Ops bleed.

Noah hit the remote again, and the third photo filled the screen. A man in his late thirties, dark hair slicked back, eyes that looked like they hadn’t seen sleep in a decade. Rhett Danner.

“This one,” Noah said quietly, “was one of ours.”

The air in the room shifted. Even before Noah started talking, Gage could feel the heaviness settle.

“Rhett was a Crossfire tech specialist. Systems infiltration, cyber support, tactical communications. Brilliant, but volatile. The kind of guy who could take apart a security network blindfolded and then build one better just to prove he could.”

Noah paused, his gaze flicking to Isla, who sat at the end of the table. “You trained under him, didn’t you?”

Isla nodded. “When we were both at Strike Force. He was a genius, but he didn’t take failure well. Or authority. He had this… obsession with proving that tech could fix what leadership broke.”

Gage could see that. He’d known a dozen like him in the service. Too smart, too driven, and convinced the world owed them retribution when things went wrong.

“Nearly a year ago, shortly after Crossfire Ops was up and running,” Noah continued, “Rhett lost his wife and unborn child in a mission Crossfire greenlit. His wife was a civilian contractor, a communications analyst working deep cover in a rogue cell. Rhett wasn’t supposed to know the specifics, but he figured it out. When the strike hit, she was still inside the compound.”

The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on.

Noah’s voice stayed even, but there was grit underneath. “He blamed me. Said I signed the order that killed his family. He stripped every Crossfire signature he could find from his accounts and disappeared.”

Gage frowned. “So he’s got the brains. Does he have the cash?”

“He does now,” Noah said. “Before he vanished, he funneled nearly five million in crypto from a network of shell accounts he’d built while he was still on payroll. We traced some of it after the fact, but most of it’s gone, moved through privacy wallets, lost in the chain.”

Cal swore softly. “So, he’s smart, rich, and pissed at Crossfire Ops. Great combo.”

Noah clicked off the monitor, folding his arms. “All three—Corrine Astor, Brady Halden, Rhett Danner—have motive, resources, and the expertise to coordinate a siege like the one we faced last night.”

Sheriff Chase made a sound of agreement, flipped her notepad closed and tucked it under her arm. “All right,” she said. “Dr. Corrine Astor’s up first in interview. Rhett Danner and Brady Halden right after. All three have lawyered up, but I made it clear that if they don’t show voluntarily, I’ll have arrest warrants signed before lunch.”

“Good,” Noah replied. He looked around the room, then his gaze settled on Rena and Gage. “You two up for this?”

Gage met his eyes. “Always.”

Rena nodded. “Absolutely.”

Noah studied them for a long moment, and then a rare flicker of a smile broke through the exhaustion on his face. “Glad to hear that. Because as of right now, you’re no longer trainees.”

Gage looked at Rena and smiled. They’d semi-joked about this, but apparently Noah was serious.