Chapter 5 - OLD FRIENDS, OLD WOUNDS

Ethan always said one thing.

The hardest battles aren’t fought with weapons.

They’re fought with information.

And information was exactly what we needed.

Inside the warehouse, the old team gathered.

People I hadn’t seen in years.

Marcus Hill.

Jake Turner.

Lisa Grant.

They looked older.

So did I.

But some things don’t change.

The way soldiers look at each other.

The understanding without words.

Marcus smiled.

“Never thought I’d see you again.”

I nodded.

“Neither did I.”

Jake looked at me.

“So what happened?”

I didn’t answer.

He already knew.

Someone hurt my family.

That was enough.

Lisa opened her laptop.

“I tracked Barnes’ money.”

The screen showed accounts.

Companies.

Transfers.

“Where?”

She pointed.

“Blackridge.”

The room went silent.

Jake looked at me.

“That name again.”

I nodded.

Lisa looked confused.

“What?”

Ethan answered.

“Blackridge is connected to Dennis’ last mission.”

She looked at me.

“What happened?”

I stared at the screen.

“Something that was supposed to stay buried.”

Before anyone could ask more, Lisa opened another file.

“This is interesting.”

A photo appeared.

Sheriff Barnes.

Standing beside another man.

I leaned closer.

My blood went cold.

Because I knew that face.

“No.”

Ethan looked at me.

“What?”

“That’s impossible.”

The man in the picture was someone who shouldn’t exist.

Someone who died years ago.

Lisa looked at me.

“Who is he?”

I whispered:

“Victor Kane.”

Nobody spoke.

Ethan looked shocked.

“He’s dead.”

I nodded.

“I watched him disappear.”

Marcus frowned.

“Then why is he standing beside Barnes?”

I didn’t answer.

Because the answer was worse than the question.

Someone had been lying.

For years.

That night, we followed Barnes.

He entered a private building outside town.

No cameras.

No security records.

Nothing.

A place designed to disappear.

Ethan looked at me.

“Something big is happening.”

I nodded.

“We’re close.”

We watched through binoculars.

Then the door opened.

Victor Kane walked out.

Alive.

Real.

Standing twenty yards away.

Ethan whispered:

“Dennis…”

I didn’t move.

Because for seventeen years...

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