The wind changed.
It came suddenly—cold, sharp, slicing through the silence of the cemetery like a warning.
Jack felt it first.
Not on his skin—
But in his bones.
Something was wrong.
"Everyone, step back," he said quickly, his voice low but urgent.
Catherine turned to him, startled. "What—?"
"Just trust me," he added, his eyes scanning the darkness beyond the graves.
That instinct—
It wasn't fear.
It was something deeper.
A reflex.
Like he had been here before.
Like danger was not new to him.
"Jack…?" Catherine whispered, her heart beginning to race again.
But before he could answer—
A sound.
Footsteps.
Fast.
Closing in.
"Down!" Jack shouted.
He lunged forward, grabbing Catherine and pulling her to the ground just as—
BANG!
A gunshot shattered the night.
Screams erupted.
People scattered in every direction.
Another shot rang out.
BANG!
Dirt exploded near the open grave.
Chaos.
Pure chaos.
"Run!" someone screamed.
"Get out of here!"
Catherine clung to Jack, her entire body shaking violently.
"Someone is shooting!" she cried.
"I know," he said, his voice sharp, focused. "Stay low!"
Another shot cracked through the air.
Too close.
Way too close.
Jack's mind raced.
This wasn't random.
This wasn't panic.
This was targeted.
Someone—
Was trying to kill him.
His grip tightened on Catherine's hand.
"We need to move," he said.
"I can't!" she gasped. "My legs—"
"You can," he said firmly. "Listen to me, Cathy. Look at me."
Her eyes met his.
Terrified.
Lost.
But still there.
"I've got you," he said.
And somehow—
She believed him.
He pulled her up, keeping her low as they moved behind a nearby tombstone.
Another shot rang out.
Closer.
More precise.
"They're aiming for you…" Catherine whispered, realization hitting her like ice.
Jack didn't answer.
Because he already knew.
From the shadows—
A figure moved.
Dressed in black.
Face hidden.
Gun raised.
Watching.
Waiting.
Jack's eyes locked onto the movement.
There.
"Stay here," he said quickly.
"No!" Catherine grabbed his arm. "Don't leave me!"
"I won't," he said. "But if we don't stop this, no one is getting out."
Her grip tightened.
For a second—
He hesitated.
Then—
Another shot fired.
BANG!
A man behind them cried out and fell.
That was enough.
Jack's expression changed.
Completely.
Cold.
Focused.
Dangerous.
"Stay down," he ordered.
And before Catherine could stop him—
He moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
He darted from behind the tombstone, using the graves as cover, his movements sharp, calculated.
Not random.
Not lucky.
Trained.
Catherine's breath caught.
"Jack…" she whispered.
That wasn't the man she knew.
Her Jack was strong.
Smart.
Protective.
But this—
This was something else.
Another shot.
Jack dropped low, rolling behind a headstone just in time.
The bullet struck stone.
Sparks flew.
The shooter adjusted.
Aimed again.
But Jack was already moving.
Closing the distance.
Step by step.
Silent.
Precise.
"Who is he…?" someone whispered behind Catherine.
No one answered.
Because no one knew.
The figure in black fired again—
BANG!
Missed.
Jack was too fast.
And then—
He reached him.
The impact was brutal.
Jack slammed into the attacker, knocking the gun from his hand.
It skidded across the ground.
The two struggled—
Fists.
Gravel.
Breath.
Violence.
"Who sent you?!" Jack growled, pinning the man down.
The attacker said nothing.
Just struggled.
Desperate.
Then—
A small, sharp movement.
A blade flashed in the dark.
"Jack!" Catherine screamed.
Too late.
The knife drove forward—
But Jack caught the attacker's wrist mid-air.
His grip tightened.
Twisted.
A sickening crack echoed.
The knife fell.
The attacker gasped in pain.
Jack didn't hesitate.
He slammed him into the ground—
Hard.
"Talk!" Jack demanded.
Still—
Silence.
Then—
A distant sound.
Engines.
More than one.
Jack's head snapped up.
His instincts screamed again.
Not over.
Not yet.
"Jack!" Catherine called, running toward him now despite everything.
"Stay back!" he shouted.
But she didn't.
She couldn't.
Lights flashed in the distance.
Vehicles approaching.
Fast.
Too fast.
Jack looked down at the man beneath him.
Then back at the road.
Then—
His expression darkened.
"This was just the beginning…" he muttered.
Behind him—
Uncle Richard stood in the shadows.
Watching.
Silent.
Unmoving.
And slowly—
Very slowly—
He smiled.