Chapter 5
The aftermath was a blur of high-level clearances and hushed conversations. The docks were swarmed by men in black suits who didn’t exist, cleaning up a mess that “”never happened.””
I sat on the bumper of the SUV, a blanket wrapped around my shoulders. Sarah and Leo were inside the vehicle, being checked over by a medic.
Jax walked over, looking exhausted. He handed me a cup of coffee that tasted like battery acid and old beans. It was perfect.
“”The Syndicate cell is toast,”” Jax said. “”We’ve got the names. We’re scrubbing the data now. You’re officially dead, Silas. Again.””
“”And Sarah?””
“”New identities. A house in Vermont. Near the mountains, just like she always talked about when she thought you weren’t listening at the breakroom table.”” Jax looked at me, his expression unreadable. “”The Pentagon wants to offer you a consultancy role. Off the books. No more oil barrels, Silas. You’d have a seat at the table.””
I looked at the SUV. Through the window, I saw Sarah. She was holding Leo, her eyes fixed on me. There was no fear in her gaze. Only a deep, haunting sadness. She knew the janitor was gone. She was looking at a stranger.
“”I’m done with tables, Jax,”” I said. “”I’m done with the ‘big picture.’ The big picture is what kills people.””
“”So what now? You can’t go back to the refinery. Brent Miller probably has a restraining order and a therapist by now.””
I smiled. It felt strange on my face. “”I think I’ll go to Vermont. I hear they need people who know how to fix things.””
Jax sighed, but he nodded. He knew he couldn’t hold me. “”Good luck, Commander.””
“”Just Silas, Jax. Just Silas.””
I walked toward the SUV. The medic stepped aside. I opened the door and sat next to Sarah. Leo immediately crawled into my lap, burying his face in my tactical vest.
“”You’re okay, Uncle Si,”” he whispered. “”The bad men went away.””
I looked at Sarah. “”I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.””
She reached out, her hand trembling as she touched the bruise on my cheek—the one Brent Miller had given me.
“”I didn’t need to know who you were, Silas,”” she said softly. “”I knew who you are. That was enough for me.””
“”It’s going to be different now,”” I said. “”We have to move. We have to start over.””
“”As long as you’re the one driving,”” she said.
We drove through the night, leaving the fires of Detroit and the cold grease of the refinery behind. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t running toward a war or away from a ghost. I was just going home.
Chapter 6
Six months later.
The air in Vermont smelled like pine and woodsmoke, a far cry from the chemical stench of the Michigan oil yard. I was standing on the porch of a small cabin, a hammer in my hand. I was fixing a loose railing. It was honest work.
Down the hill, I could hear Leo laughing. He was chasing a golden retriever through the tall grass. Sarah was sitting on a quilt, a book in her lap, but she was watching the boy.
She looked up and caught my eye. She smiled. It was a real smile. The kind that makes a man realize that every scar, every nightmare, and every drop of oil was worth it.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. A burner.
I hesitated. I thought about throwing it into the valley. But I knew better.
I answered.
“”The board is moving, Silas,”” a voice said. Not Jax. Someone higher. “”There’s a situation in the Baltic. We need the Ghost.””
I looked at Sarah. She was laughing now, Leo having tackled her into the grass. The sun was hitting the mountains, turning the world into a canvas of gold and purple.
I thought about the refinery. I thought about Brent Miller’s boot. I thought about the three tactical choppers that had torn the sky apart just to find a man who wanted to be lost.
“”The Ghost is dead,”” I said into the phone.
“”Sir, this is about the survival of the—””
“”I’m busy,”” I interrupted.
“”Busy with what?””
I looked at the loose railing. I looked at the woman and the boy who had given me back my soul.
“”I’m busy being a janitor,”” I said. “”And this time, I’m cleaning up for good.””
I hung up, pulled the SIM card out, and dropped it into the dirt. I picked up my hammer and went back to work.
The world would always have its wars. It would always have its strategists and its masterminds. But here, in the quiet of the mountains, I had finally won the only battle that mattered.
I was finally just a man. And that was the greatest victory of all.
True power isn’t found in the armies you lead, but in the peace you are willing to protect for the people who love the version of you that has nothing at all.”
