Chapter 2
The heavy oak door of Daniel Cole’s suburban home clicked shut, sealing out the damp evening air. It had been two months since the trial. Two months since the system had almost swallowed him whole, only to spit him back out because of a seventy-pound Belgian Malinois who now lay sprawled across his living room rug.
Zara’s ears twitched in her sleep. She was dreaming again. Daniel watched her from the kitchen counter, sipping lukewarm coffee. His hypervigilance hadn't disappeared with the dropped charges. If anything, the quiet of civilian life made the noise in his head louder.
His phone buzzed on the granite counter, vibrating violently against the silence. It was Rachel Voss.
"It’s late, Counselor," Daniel said, answering the call. "You overbilling me?"
"Daniel," Rachel’s voice was clipped, devoid of her usual warmth. "I need you to listen to me carefully. Are your doors locked?"
Daniel’s posture instantly shifted from relaxed civilian to active duty. He set the mug down. Zara’s eyes snapped open. She didn’t move, but her head lifted, sensing the change in his chemistry. "Always. What’s going on, Rachel?"
"The man from the parking lot. Marcus Vance. He didn't just take a plea deal for the assault. He made bail yesterday, and then he completely vanished. But that’s not the worst part."
Daniel moved to the window, pulling the blinds down just a fraction with his index finger to scan the street. An unfamiliar black SUV was parked two houses down, its engine idling. "Define worst part."
"I pulled Vance’s financial records during the civil suit discovery," Rachel explained, her breath hitching slightly. "He had a massive deposit made into a shell account three days before he attacked you. Half a million dollars, Daniel. This wasn't a random bar fight. It was a hit. Someone paid him to take you out, and they made it look like a drunken brawl."
Daniel stared at the black SUV. The exhaust plumed softly in the cold air. "Who authorized the transfer?"
"It was routed through an offshore account," Rachel said. "But the parent company traces back to Apex Logistics. They’re a private military contractor. The same contractor that was operating in your sector in..."
"Kandahar. 2021," Daniel finished, his blood running cold.
The night Zara was supposedly killed in action. The night his unit was ambushed. They had always been told it was bad intel. But if Apex Logistics was involved, and they were paying to have him silenced years later...
At his feet, Zara let out a low, rumbling growl. She was staring directly at the front door.
"Rachel," Daniel said, his voice dropping to a terrifying calm. "I need you to go to the police station right now. Do not go home."
"Daniel, what's happening?"
"They’re here."
He hung up the phone. The black SUV’s doors were opening. Four men stepped out into the streetlights. They weren't street thugs. They moved with tactical precision, fanning out across his lawn.
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Daniel looked down at Zara. The dog was already on her feet, the fur along her spine standing straight up, teeth bared in a silent snarl. She remembered the scent of war.
"Alright, girl," Daniel whispered, reaching under the kitchen counter and pulling out a heavy steel lockbox. He punched in the code. "Time to go to work."
