I drove the quick five minutes home to my townhouse. It wasn’t huge but it was mine. When I’d retired from the Army several years ago, I’d used my savings to buy this place, and it was the first big item that had ever truly belonged to me. After years of moving around, having something permanent mattered, and this place felt like home the moment I moved in.
I had an end unit in a group of four townhomes. It had red brick all around and a small deck off to the side. Being on the end meant I could sit on my patio space and not see my neighbors. What sold this place for me, though, was the fact that our complex backed right up to a national forest, so my end unitlooked out onto a whole bunch of trees and serene privacy—with no potential for future building.
As soon as I walked in, my cat, Jasper, came up to greet me. He was a Maine Coon, and a big boy at just over twenty pounds, but he was a snuggler and loved to greet me at the door to remind me he was ready for cuddle time.
I set my purse down on the counter of my small entryway and scooped him up. Carrying him through the kitchen, I grabbed some water and made my way back to my bedroom. Usually after my shifts, I couldn’t just fall right asleep, so Jasper and I snuggled in bed while I watched some TV until I was tired enough to zonk out.
Unfortunately, even after finally dozing off, I had troublestayingasleep—mostly because my bladder was protesting. Plus, when I woke, Jasper was lying on my face.
I decided to just get up and go to the bathroom. Sleeping through the night without peeing at least once was a joy from long ago in my younger years, so I was used to it.
When I lay back down, I tapped my phone, curious if I had even gotten thirty minutes of sleep. My phone showed it was just after three in the morning, but what really had my attention were all the alerts from the alarm company. I opened to swipe through them, wondering if Corey had had a hard time with the security panel when he closed up two hours ago. But as I moved through the app, the alerts kept coming—in real time.
What in the world?
Why was Corey still there this late?
Wondering what was going on, I went to open the app connected to all our security cameras and noticed they were all black. Not because it was dark out, but because there was no connection.
As I swiped through camera after camera, they all came up the same. All twelve cameras were black.
This wasn’t right.
I opened another app on my phone, the one that would show me the hidden camera I’d set up at the bar because I suspected Donald and a few others might be reaching over the counter to help themselves.
I flipped that open and saw a darkened bar, but at least it was still showingsomething. With no lights it was hard to see, but the camera had night vision, so there was at least a bit of a green glow. I scrolled back in time and watched the moments tick by, but just a few seconds later, a shadow moved across the left side of the screen. I swiped back and paused.
A figure.
A figure in all black. Barely visible in the dim light, but it was there.
Someone had just broken into the pub.
Two hours later,I stood in the parking lot of the Watering Hole, staring at the sign for the place that had become my home for the last several years.
The pub occupied the right side of a mixed-use building just outside Atlanta. On the left side was Ranger Shield Security.
Same building, two very different businesses.
Ranger Shield was a private security and investigations firm founded by Wade, Archer, Jack, and Vince. The pub had funded the early days of their security company, giving them a steady income while they built the firm from the ground up.
Wade now owned the entire building. His uncle had sold it to him roughly four years ago when he retired—along with the pub, which Wade and I co-managed.
I’d worked for Wade’s uncle and had been part of the package when he’d bought the place.
The first floor housed both businesses. Ranger Shield’s lobby sat beside the bar, where Ruthie, their administrative assistant and Jack’s wife, worked alongside Cat, the company’s web developer and Vince’s wife.
The second floor held the operations side—offices and whatever classified work those badasses did behind closed doors.
The third floor of the building was a home. Wade and his wife Ellie had converted two small apartments into one large three-bedroom unit for their growing family. It made sense. Wade could be close to both businesses and get upstairs to his wife and daughter within minutes.
The location of the pub and security business had always been strategic. The building sat just down the road from Dobbington Air Reserve Base, headquarters of the 22nd Air Force and home to multiple reserve and National Guard units. It meant a steady stream of military-trained personnel for future employees on the security side—exactly how they’d found Diego, Andre, Delia, and most other members of their team. Plus, it meant a steady stream of customers for the pub.
Tonight, though, none of that mattered as I stared up at the sign that had given me a job—though it felt more like a home—after I retired from the Army.
With the exception of Jack and Ruthie—likely at home with their new baby—most of the Ranger Shield crew stood beside me in the parking lot.
A robbery.
