The cartels made their move.
Not against Damien.
Against Elena.
She was the first one they tried to take back.
She was the first one to say no.
And she was not alone.
---
The attack came at midnight.
Elena was in her apartment. The one in the building. The one with the piano.
She was playing. Chopin. Nocturne. The same piece she had played the night she moved in.
She didn't hear them come in.
She didn't see them until they were standing in her doorway.
Three men. Dark clothes. Dark eyes.
"You remember us," the leader said.
Elena's hands stopped on the keys.
"You remember the offer."
She stood.
"I remember."
"You said yes."
"I said almost."
"Almost isn't no."
"It is now."
---
The leader stepped forward.
"You think because Damien Moreau paid your loans, you're free?"
"I am free."
"You're not free. You're his."
"I'm mine."
The leader laughed.
"Bold words for a woman who was sleeping in her car six months ago."
Elena didn't flinch.
"Bold words for a man who's about to die."
The leader stopped laughing.
"What?"
"You heard me."
---
The lights went out.
Not because of a power failure.
Because Cole's team had cut them.
When the lights came back on, the three men were on the ground.
Cole stood over them.
"Elena, are you okay?"
She was shaking.
"I'm okay."
"Did they touch you?"
"No."
"Did they threaten you?"
"Yes."
Cole nodded.
"Then they won't be a problem anymore."
---
The men were taken away.
Not to prison. To a place where they could be questioned.
Cole walked Elena to her apartment.
"You're safe now."
"They got in."
"They won't again."
"How can you be sure?"
Cole looked at her.
"Because I'm going to make sure."
---
The next morning, Damien called a meeting.
Not in the conference room. In the command center.
Cole stood at the front.
"The cartels are getting desperate. They tried to take Elena last night."
"Did they succeed?"
"No."
"Did they hurt her?"
"No."
"Then what's the problem?"
Cole was quiet for a moment.
"The problem is they got in. Past the guards. Past the cameras. Past the security."
Damien's face was calm.
"Then we need more guards."
"We need better guards."
"Same thing."
"Different intention."
---
The word spread.
Not through the press. Through the military community.
Former special forces. Former SEALs. Former intelligence officers.
They had heard about Damien. About the building. About the people he saved.
They wanted to be part of it.
The first to arrive was a man named Marcus Webb.
Not the therapist. A different Marcus.
Former Green Beret. Three tours in Afghanistan. A chest full of medals and a head full of nightmares.
He stood in the lobby.
"I want to join."
Cole looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because I've spent my whole life fighting for a country that doesn't fight for me. I want to fight for something real."
Cole nodded.
"You're in."
---
The second to arrive was a woman named Nia Williams.
Former CIA. Specialized in counterterrorism.
She had retired after twenty years. She was bored. She was restless. She was looking for a purpose.
"I want to join."
Cole looked at her.
"Why?"
"Because I'm tired of watching the good guys lose."
"You won't lose here."
"Prove it."
Cole smiled.
"Stay."
---
The third to arrive was a man named Dmitri Volkov.
No relation to the enemy. Different family. Different country.
Former Russian Spetsnaz. Defected years ago. Lived in the shadows.
He stood in the lobby.
"I want to join."
Cole looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because I have nothing left to lose."
"You'll find something here."
"I hope so."
---
The recruits kept coming.
Day after day.
Week after week.
Former soldiers. Former operatives. Former protectors.
They had heard about Damien. About the building. About the people he saved.
They wanted to be part of it.
They wanted to fight for something real.
Within a month, the army had grown to five hundred.
Within two months, eight hundred.
Within three months, one thousand.
---
Cole stood at the front of the command center.
"One thousand soldiers. Former special forces. Former intelligence. Former protectors."
Damien looked at him.
"Are they loyal?"
"They're loyal to the mission."
"The mission?"
"Protecting the family."
Damien nodded.
"Then they're family."
---
That night, Christabel put Lena to bed.
Not Damien. Her.
Lena was full of questions.
"Mama, why are there so many new people?"
"Because they want to help Papa."
"Help him do what?"
"Help him protect people."
"Like the baby?"
Christabel laughed.
"Like the baby."
---
Damien appeared in the doorway.
"She's asleep?"
"She's dreaming."
"Of what?"
"Of you."
He walked to her.
Took her hand.
"We have one thousand soldiers now."
"I know."
"Former special forces."
"I know."
"They're happier here than they ever were in the military."
"Why?"
"Because they're fighting for something real."