“They're watching.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
I closed the door.
Then I went into my study.
The old part of me had returned.
Not anger.
Not fear.
Focus.
I checked the neighborhood cameras.
One camera covered the entrance.
Another covered the alley.
A third faced my backyard.
I didn't need weapons.
I needed information.
By sunset, I knew three vehicles had entered the neighborhood repeatedly.
By midnight, I had identified one of the men.
His name was Victor Kane.
Former private contractor.
Known associate of an illegal fight promoter.
And someone I had encountered once, years ago.
Not personally.
But professionally.
Victor had been connected to a failed extraction operation overseas.
Several people had died.
I had survived.
He had disappeared.
Now he was here.
I called Marcus.
“He's back.”
“Who?”
“Victor Kane.”
Silence.
Then Marcus swore.
“You need to leave.”
“No.”
“Jack.”
“No.”
“You don't understand.”
“I understand perfectly.”
“They aren't coming for information.”
“What are they coming for?”
“You.”
I looked at Emily's photograph.
“I know.”
The next morning, Derek disappeared.
His gym was closed.
His house was empty.
His car was gone.
But someone left a message on my front door.
MIDNIGHT. OLD QUARRY. COME ALONE.
I stared at the words.
Then I smiled.
Not because I wanted to fight.
Because I finally understood the game.
They expected the man from 42B to be afraid.
They expected him to panic.
They expected him to come alone.
Instead, I made one phone call.
Marcus answered.
“I need a favor.”
He sighed.
“I was afraid you'd say that.”
“I need eyes on the quarry.”
“How many?”
“Enough.”
“And you?”
“I'll be there.”
“Jack.”
“What?”
“You're not twenty-five anymore.”
“I know.”
“You're not indestructible.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you going?”
I looked at the note.
“Because they're coming into my sanctuary.”
Marcus said nothing.
Then:
“I'm with you.”
The Quarry
The old quarry sat outside town.
Abandoned for more than fifteen years.
A huge bowl of stone surrounded by cliffs and broken concrete.
At midnight, it was almost completely dark.
I arrived alone.
At least, that's what anyone watching would have believed.
I parked several hundred yards away.
Walked the rest.
The wind was cold.
I could hear water dripping somewhere beneath the cliffs.
Then I saw them.
Six men.
Derek stood among them.
His face was bruised.
His hands were tied.
Victor Kane stepped forward.
“Jack Reynolds.”
I stopped.
“Victor.”
He smiled.
“It's been a long time.”
“Not long enough.”
He laughed.
“You always were difficult.”
“What do you want?”
“You have something.”
“I don't.”
“That's the problem.”
Victor nodded toward Derek.
“He told us you might have information.”
“I don't.”
“Then why did you come?”
“Because you threatened my home.”
Victor smiled.
“That sanctuary of yours?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting word.”
He walked closer.
“You spent years teaching men how to survive.”
“Yes.”
“Now you're hiding in suburbia.”
“I'm retired.”
“No one retires from what you are.”
I looked at Derek.
“What did he tell you?”
“Enough.”
“You're being used.”
Derek looked away.
Victor struck him.
I took one step forward.
Victor smiled.
“There he is.”
I stopped.
“You're testing me.”
“Yes.”
“Don't.”
Victor laughed.
“You still think you're in control.”
“No.”
I looked around.
“I know I'm in control.”
The men laughed.
Then the lights came on.
Not from their vehicles.
From the ridge.
Floodlights illuminated the quarry.
Victor looked up.
His smile disappeared.
Marcus's voice came through a speaker.
“Good evening, Victor.”
Three vehicles appeared at the top of the ridge.
Not military.
Not police.
Private security.
Professionals.
Victor turned.
“What is this?”
I looked at him.
“This is the part where you realize you brought six men to a situation you don't understand.”
The fight that followed was chaotic.
Not cinematic.
Not beautiful.
Real.
Fast.
Confusing.
I moved only when necessary.
The first man charged.
I redirected him.
The second tried to flank.
He stumbled into the first.
Another grabbed Derek.
Derek fought back.
For several seconds, the quarry became noise.
Shouting.
Footsteps.
Gravel.
Breathing.
Then silence.
Victor stood alone.
He looked at me.
“You planned this.”
“No.”
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
He laughed.
“You're still the same.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“I'm better.”
Victor reached inside his jacket.
Several people shouted.
He froze.
I didn't move.
“Take your hand out slowly.”
Victor smiled.
“You think you're going to arrest me?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I want you to understand something.”
I stepped forward.
“This neighborhood is full of ordinary people.”
He stared at me.
“Children. Families. Elderly people.”
I continued.
“They don't know how to fight.”
Victor's expression hardened.
“So?”
“So you don't get to bring your world into theirs.”
He stared at me.
Then he lowered his hand.