Chapter 2 - The Man in My Garage
I didn't approach the garage door.
That is what movies get wrong.
People hear a sound in a dark room and walk toward it.
Training teaches you that curiosity is not worth dying for.
I moved sideways into the kitchen and picked up my phone.
“Elias.”
“I’m here.”
“Someone’s in the garage.”
“Police?”
“Not yet.”
I looked toward the front window.
No vehicle.
No movement.
Then the garage door opened.
A man stepped into the hallway.
I recognized him.
“Easy,” he said.
I lowered my hand.
“Elias, call you back.”
The man standing in my hallway was Nathan Cole.
One of Derek’s gym buddies.
He looked very different without Derek beside him.
Nervous.
Pale.
“What are you doing in my house?”
“I didn't break in.”
“You’re standing inside my house.”
“Garage side door was open.”
It wasn't.
Nathan saw from my expression that I knew.
“Okay. Someone opened it.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Try again.”
He swallowed.
“Derek.”
That didn't make sense.
“Why?”
“He wanted me to scare you.”
“And?”
“I said no.”
“You were willing to surround me yesterday.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
Nathan looked ashamed.
“I thought we were messing with some grumpy neighbor.”
“And now?”
“Now I think Derek’s losing his mind.”
He pulled out his phone.
“Look.”
Messages.
Derek had created a group chat.
He was offering money for information about me.
Then came a photograph.
Me.
Taken through my kitchen window the previous night.
My stomach tightened.
“Who took that?”
“I don't know.”
“Derek?”
“He says someone sent it to him.”
That changed everything.
Derek wasn't running this.
Someone was feeding him.
Nathan scrolled.
Another message appeared.
A document.
Old.
Partially redacted.
My name at the top.
INDEPENDENT INSTRUCTIONAL SPECIALIST.
Below that:
CLOSE-QUARTERS SURVIVAL PROGRAM.
Nathan looked at me.
“What were you?”
“A contractor.”
“For who?”
“People who needed training.”
“Derek thinks you were some kind of government assassin.”
Despite everything, I almost laughed.
“Derek watches too many movies.”
Nathan didn't smile.
“He’s scared.”
“Good.”
“No. You don't understand. Derek doesn't get scared. He gets dangerous.”
I looked toward the garage.
“How did you get here?”
“Walked through the backyards.”
“Why?”
Nathan hesitated.
“Because Kyle found something.”
“What?”
“He recognized your name.”
That surprised me.
“From where?”
“He served four years in the Navy.”
My attention sharpened.
Kyle hadn't moved like military.
“Doing what?”
“Logistics.”
That explained it.
Nathan continued.
“He said he heard stories about a civilian instructor in Virginia Beach. Somebody operators trained with.”
“Stories grow.”
“He said nobody knew your name.”
“They didn't need to.”
Nathan handed me the phone.
A new message had arrived.
From Derek.
WHERE ARE YOU?
Nathan looked at me.
“He knows I’m gone.”
“Go home.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
Nathan scrolled again.
A photograph of his apartment.
Taken from outside.
Then a message.
DON'T FORGET WHO YOUR FRIENDS ARE.
Derek hadn't written it.
Unknown number.
Same pattern.
Someone was turning Derek’s ego into a weapon.
And now they were controlling his friends.
“Stay here.”
Nathan stared at me.
“You’re letting me?”
“Until we understand what this is.”
I called Reynolds.
Twenty minutes later, two cruisers arrived.
No intruder was found.
The garage side-door lock had been professionally bypassed.
Not forced.
Reynolds looked at it.
“Your neighbor know how to do this?”
“No.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
He gave me a long look.
I showed him Nathan’s messages.
That ended the questions.
By noon, Derek was nowhere to be found.
His truck remained outside his house.
Kyle wasn't answering.
Nathan stayed in my living room.
At 2:30, Elias arrived.
Sixty-three years old.
Gray hair.
Still carried himself like the commander he once was.
Nathan stood when he entered.
Elias looked at him.
“Who’s the bodybuilder?”
“Nathan.”
“Useful?”
“Potentially.”
Nathan frowned.
“I’m sitting right here.”
“That doesn't answer the question.”
For the first time all day, I smiled.
Elias opened a laptop.
The archive access had come through an old subcontractor credential.
The credential belonged to a company called Sentinel Applied Systems.
My smile disappeared.
Sentinel had been dead for eleven years.
It was the company that had originally hired me.
“Who still has credentials?”
“Nobody should.”
“Should isn't an answer.”
Elias nodded.
“There’s more.”
He turned the laptop.
A personnel roster.
Most names redacted.
One wasn't.
Thomas Vale.
I hadn't heard that name in thirteen years.
Nathan asked, “Who’s that?”
I didn't answer.
Thomas Vale had recruited me.
Brilliant.
Controlled.
Dangerous.
And officially dead.
A training accident in 2013.
At least that was what I had been told.
Elias watched my face.
“You see the problem.”
“Thomas is dead.”
“So was Sentinel.”
Nathan shifted uneasily.
My phone rang.
Derek.
I answered.
“Daniel?”
His voice was different.
No swagger.
No laughter.
“Where are you?”
“I don't know.”
“What does that mean?”
“I woke up here.”
I stood.
“Describe it.”
“Concrete walls. No windows.”
My old world.
Then Derek whispered:
“There’s somebody here.”
A second voice came through the phone.
Older.
Calm.
Familiar.
“Hello, Daniel.”
I stopped breathing.
Thirteen years disappeared.
May you like
Thomas Vale said my name again.
Then the line went dead.
