He leaned forward, breathless. “Can I sit now?”
She laughed softly. “Yeah, hero. You earned it.”
DANTE’S SUITE
When they returned to the suite,a small white envelope sat tucked beneath his water pitcher. Unmarked. No name.
Shannon picked it up. “You expecting something?” He shook his head. She handed it to him.
Inside: a folded card. The front was blank, the inside handwritten in careful, slightly messy ink.
You don’t know me, but I read about what you stopped. I’ve seen how close the world can come to burning. I had a brother who never came home. I didn’t save him. But maybe this saves you. You deserve to stay in the fight. Stay standing.—A friend
Dante stared at it for a long time. His hand curled slowly around the card.
Shannon sat beside him, watching his face. “You okay?”
He nodded slowly. “I think… I think I finally believe I was supposed to survive.”
DAY 12 POST-TRANSPLANT
Mike Johnson arrived late in the day.He didn’t knock, justpushed open the door with two coffees in hand and a small manila folder. “Delivery from Chase DC.” He offered Shannon the file and a coffee. He pulled a water bottle from his pocket and handed it to Dante.
“You’re no fun,” Dante pouted.
She raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”
“I know you’ve been worried about the redeployment call to finish your contract with the Air Force.” He gave her a wry smile. “You remember the interdiction unit I ran under Homeland back in the day? They're spinning it back up. Chase got tapped for the contract.”
Shannon blinked.
Mike continued, tone casual but proud. “They want you to run point. Counter-infiltration. Domestic ops coordination. Based out of Quantico, with a promotion in rank—lieutenant—and my blessing.”
She looked at Dante.
He smiled. “You’ll crush it.”
She looked back at her father. “I’ll think about it.”
Mike grinned. “That’s a yes.”
The wheelsof Dante’s discharge chair squeaked as the nurse rolled him to the front lobby. Shannon walked beside him, duffel over one shoulder, her other hand resting on his shoulder.
Outside the glass doors, a black SUV idled by the curb. Not a security detail, just Marcus Chandler, wearing civilian clothes and sunglasses, leaning against the hood.
“You sure you’re ready for this?” Shannon asked.
Dante looked up at the sky, the bright morning air brushing his face. “I’m ready to go somewhere no one’s trying to kill me.”
She smirked. “Low bar.”
He looked up at her, serious now. “I want to wake up with you somewhere quiet. No machines. No codes. No rescue plans.”
Her fingers tightened around his. “I’ve got just the place.”
EPILOGUE
QUANTICO – DHS INTERDICTION DIVISION HQ – ONE MONTH LATER
