"Says the woman who thinks explosives solve everything."
"They solve most things."
Minerva shook her head. "How long before they make it official do you think?"
"Any day now," John said. He'd seen that look in Cory's eyes—the same one Austin had worn when he met Lauren, that Jack got around Kelli. That Axel had gotten the first time Olivia psychoanalyzed his coffee order.
"Six months," Minerva countered. "Izzy's stubborn."
"Deal." They shook on it, and John marveled again at how this brilliant woman had stayed by his side through everything—including being kidnapped by his former best friend.
"There he goes," Minerva whispered.
Griff had finally worked up the courage to pull Sarah onto the dance floor properly. The analyst who'd been terrified of field work, who'd thought herself nothing but a "numbers person," glowed as Griff spun her carefully. John noticed how he still held her hand with extra care, though the cast from the Charleston incident was long gone.
"She's good for him," Minerva observed.
"She found what bullets couldn't," John agreed. "The money trail, the conspiracy. But more than that—she gave him a reason to come home."
John's mind drifted back to when Griff had been nothing but a ghost watching Ronan and Maya's wedding through stolen satellite feeds. Those three encrypted messages John had sent, all deleted unread. The operator who'd chosen vengeance over family because he thought distance meant safety.
For all of them.
And then came Sarah Winters—FBI analyst, spreadsheet warrior. And more than a match for his fiercest operative.
"Look at him," Minerva said softly. "When's the last time you saw him laugh like that?"
Sarah was attempting to demonstrate some self-defensemove Griff had taught her, explaining it to Kenji with elaborate hand gestures. But she accidentally swept the medic's legs and sent him sprawling on the grass. Her mortified squeak was drowned out by Griff's delighted laughter. Real. Unguarded. Alive.
"Before Tank died," John answered quietly. "That's the last time."
His gaze unconsciously found Sarah’s necklace—Tank's tags. She carried them now, a trust Griff had given no one else. And when she was nervous, like now as she helped Kenji up with apologies, her thumb would brush over them. The same gesture Griff still made against empty air.
Lord,John found himself praying silently,You really do work in mysterious ways. Through loss and grief and stubborn operators who think they know better, You've woven something beautiful here. Thank You for not giving up on them when I wanted to. Thank You for bringing Sarah to show Griff the way home. For bringing all of them home.
"DJ! DJ!" Chantal's voice rang out across the reception. "It's our song!"
John watched sixteen-year-old DJ grin and bow formally to the seven-year-old in her purple dress and rainbow combat boots—the same boots she'd worn to Ronan and Maya's wedding. The teenager let her step onto his feet, carefully waltzing her around while she squealed with delight.
Watching them all—Ronan and Maya, Christian and Whitney, Jack and Austin with their families, Deke, Kenji, Zarah, Finn, Izzy, and now Axel with Olivia—something shifted in his chest. A loosening. These weren't his proteges anymore, soldiers needing guidance. They were leaders in their own right, ready to carry Knight Tactical forward.
Maybe Minerva was right. It was time to step back. Not completely. He wasn't ready for golf and retirement communities. But enough to let them truly lead.
"You're thinking about it, aren't you?" Minerva said quietly, reading him as always.
"They don't need me the way they used to."
"No," she agreed, watching Ronan direct his three small children with quiet authority. "They need you differently now. As family."
Deke's booming laugh drew their attention. The massive operator had convinced Jade's very proper parents to try his "legendary Italian shuffle" from their mission in Italy. Jade's mother, a diminutive woman in pearls, gamely attempted the move while her quiet father looked on in bemused horror.
"That's actually not bad," Minerva noted as Mrs. Villanueva executed a surprisingly smooth spin.
"Deke's a better teacher than he thinks." John smiled. "Remember when he helped Sarah understand tactical positioning? Used saltshakers and dinner rolls?"
"And now she's dropping our guys like a pro." Minerva laughed as Sarah finally got Kenji upright, both of them grass-stained and grinning.
The music shifted to something slower, sweeter. John noticed Ronan and Maya swaying together near the edge of the floor. The former SEAL still wore that tactical watch from their first case in San Diego. John remembered the tension in that briefing room, Maya's fierce determination to find justice for Tank, Ronan's walls so high you'd need climbing gear to scale them.
