Page 2 of Blade and Arrow Origins (Blade and Arrow Security)

LEO

I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to the city.

It’s not that I haven’t spent time in cities before, but actually living in one?

Taking the subway from my apartment in Queens each day, surrounded by thousands of people I’ve never met?

Living in a tiny studio that seems to get smaller by the day?

The constant buzz of activity never allowing for a moment of peace?

I don’t know if it’s for me.

When I got the job offer to work for a cybersecurity firm in Manhattan, it seemed like a great opportunity. Good pay, benefits, four weeks vacation, moving expenses covered, and I’d get to do something I’m good at.

Back in the Army, I didn’t really use my skills as a hacker—they weren’t necessary when we were in the Middle East, working clandestine ops and training foreign allies—but I always made sure to keep them up to date.

During my off-time, I scoured message boards for new techniques and programs and strategies, practiced breaking into secure systems without getting caught, and made sure to keep my certifications current.

Up until that last mission, I hadn’t planned to leave the service until I retired.

I thought I’d stay with my Green Beret team for another five years at least, then transition into some sort of training role.

Or I’d shift into the intelligence side of things.

But I always imagined growing old in the Army, alongside my team, all of us retiring together.

Of course, I knew things could always go wrong. I just hoped they wouldn’t.

But when everything fell apart, including my team, I was desperate for something to distract me from the guilt and devastation and anger.

I thought this move might help.

I thought the city that never sleeps would drown out the terrible memories.

I thought this job as a white-hat hacker, or ethical hacker, as my company calls it, would keep my mind busy.

But it hasn’t. I still miss my team. I worry about them all the time. And while I’ve made some new friends here, it’s not the same.

My job doesn’t bring the same satisfaction as it did when I was in the Army. It doesn’t account for the hours I spend alone in my apartment, wondering how things went so wrong and wishing I could go back and fix them.

I don’t like getting on the subway and seeing people shy away from me, assuming that just because I’m big, I must be a threat.

And I long for the stars. As a kid growing up in Vermont, I used to love trying to count them. I enjoyed sitting with my dad on the porch, looking up at the sky and picking out all the constellations.

Even when I was overseas, I still had the stars to remind me of home. Of the people I loved. Of the reason I was out there to begin with.

Now, when I look to the sky, the stars are masked by the light from the city.

I was talking to Nora about it the other day, and she asked why I didn’t move. Head back to Vermont or upstate or go out west to live near Finn in Colorado.

Maybe I will. But it’ll never be the same as it was, with my best friends together, spending weeks on end as a team, trying to make the world a better place.

Still. I have a vacation coming up soon. I should head out to California to see Nora, and maybe we can take a road trip from California to Colorado to visit Finn. We could take one of those long hikes he’s always talking about. I can make sure my two friends are really doing okay.

Or as okay as they can be, considering.

Just thinking about what they’ve been through makes me sad and angry all over again.

If only I’d seen a sign. If only I’d noticed something was off.

How did we miss it? Six skilled operators and somehow this piece of garbage tricked us all.

I know he’s dead. One of the guys on the other split team killed him. But I wish I could have done it myself. I wish I could have tracked down the man who tore my team apart and made him suffer for what he did.

“Hey, Leo, you alright?” My coworker, Ben, flashes a concerned glance at me.

Dragging myself back to the present, I force my mouth into something approximating a smile. “Yeah. I’m good. Why?”

“No reason,” he replies quickly. But his expression gives a different answer.

The train stops and the doors slide open, inviting a rush of people to exit the car. The controlled chaos gives me a moment to decide how to respond. Ben’s a friend, and he knows I was in the Army, but I’ve never talked about why I left or the lingering memories I can’t seem to shake.

Once the doors shut again, and the rumble of noise subsides to a dull hum, I say, “Just remembering some things from my last weeks in the Army. They’re not very good memories.”

Ben turns towards me, sympathy softening his gaze. “Sorry, man. That sucks.” He pauses. “I know I never served, so I can’t fully understand, but if you ever want to talk…”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Amanda’s out of town for work, but my mom’s coming for the weekend to spend some time with Laila, so if you want to grab a beer or something…”

Damn. I’m reminded that I’m not the only one struggling.

Ben has a little girl, Laila, who he’s basically trying to raise on his own.

He’s with the mother, Amanda, but she’s a flight attendant who’s away more often than not.

And from things Ben’s let slip, I get the feeling things between him and Amanda aren’t going well.

“How’s Laila doing?” I ask, and his face brightens.

“Oh, she’s great. I know I’m biased, but I she’s just the smartest kid. Talking in complete sentences, reading some of the words in her books…” He smiles affectionately. “She’s obsessed with books. Going to the library is her favorite thing.”

As I listen to Ben talk about his daughter, an unexpected chord twangs in my chest. The idea of having kids of my own was never something I gave much thought to—not with the danger my job brought.

That’s why I never had serious relationships, sticking with casual dating instead.

It wouldn’t have been fair to put a woman through that, never knowing when I’d have to go out on a mission or if I’d come back.

Now that everything’s different, a committed relationship wouldn’t be off the table. But I’m not sure I have the emotional energy to put into it. Not with all the other crap I’m still trying to work through.

The train jerks to a stop again, and this time I rise from my seat. As I wait for the doors to open, Ben says, “So. What about that beer? I could do Saturday.”

“Can I take a rain check? One of my old teammates is visiting for the weekend. I think we’re just going to hang at the apartment and catch up.”

Ben lifts his chin at me. “No problem. Maybe sometime next week, then.”

“Definitely.” I clap him on the shoulder and give a quick chin lift in return. “Enjoy your weekend. See you Monday.”

He smiles. “You too.”

As I make the trip from the subway to my apartment, optimism chases some of the clinging memories away.

I should have a good weekend. Cole is coming to visit from Texas, and I’m really looking forward to seeing my friend for the first time in months.

We’ll probably order a ton of takeout, drink some beer, watch some games on TV, and maybe we can convince Rylan to drive down for a day.

Have at least half the team together again.

And I can hopefully hear about this mysterious idea Cole keeps alluding to. Since he told me about his domestic violence case last month, he’s made a few mentions about a plan he’s trying to make work. And how, if he does, he’d want the rest of the team to join him.

Honestly, if I could work with my teammates again, I think I’d agree to just about anything.

I’m a block from my apartment building when a woman plows right into me, her gaze locked on her phone, clearly not paying attention. She bounces off my chest, and I lightly touch her arm to steady her, letting go as soon as I’m sure she won’t fall.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

Her gaze travels up my body, widening in alarm as she takes in my size. “I’m fine.” She takes a few quick steps back. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to run into you. I’ll just—” Two more steps back, and her words come faster. “I’ll just go. Sorry. I didn’t—”

“It’s fine,” I reply gently. “Are you—”

But she’s already gone.

Dammit.

I’d never hurt a woman. Ever. Aside from the requirements of my job—my former job—I’ve never hurt anyone . But all people see when they look at me is this six-foot-six guy topping two-fifty, and they just assume I’m dangerous.

I hate it. And I wish I could walk around someplace where people know me. Where they know I’m a good guy. Where they see me as a protector and not a threat.

My mood dips again as I close the distance to my apartment.

But hopefully, by the time Cole gets in—his flight is supposed to arrive at six, and he’s taking the train from the airport—I’ll be in a better mood again.

While I know he wouldn’t care, I’d rather not be all grumpy when my friend gets here.

But the moment my apartment building comes into view, I hear, “Leo! ‘Bout time you got here!”

Cole.

He’s leaning on the wall beside the front doors, his luggage on the sidewalk beside him, and he looks so familiar my chest squeezes a little.

I give him one of those shoulder clap slash one-armed hugs and say, “I thought your flight didn’t get in until six?”

“I was able to get on an earlier one.” Cole flashes me a grin. “So I’ve just been hanging here, checking out the neighborhood. Looks pretty nice. Lots to do.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Punching in the access code to open the door, I grumble, “This system isn’t very secure. An amateur could bypass it.”

Cole chuckles. “Why am I not surprised to hear you complaining about security?”

“Because it’s something to be taken seriously.” We head inside and over to the elevator. “I’m not worried about myself, but there are families who live here. Single women. Seniors. They can’t protect themselves like I can.”

“I’m just joking, Leo.” Cole’s expression sobers. “It is important. And that’s one of the reasons—” His mouth snaps shut. “We can talk about that later. First, I’m starving. They don’t do meals on most of the flights anymore. All I got was a tiny package of pretzels.”

“Well, we can do something about that.” As the elevator deposits us on my floor, I continue, “There’s a great pizza place two blocks away, and a Chinese place around the corner. Or we can get subs from the deli across the street. Or if you’re in the mood for Thai or Indian—”

“Pizza sounds great.” Cole smiles. “Throw in some wings and beer, and I’ll be set for the night.”

We stop in front of my door, and I unlock the two complicated locks I modified after moving in—my landlord doesn’t know, but I’ll replace them before I leave—and I reply, “I’ve got you covered on the beer. I picked up a case of your favorite.”

“Sam Adams?”

“Of course.” I raise my eyebrows at him. “Do you think I forgot?”

“Not a chance.” Cole smirks at me as we walk inside the apartment. “Just thought you might try to push one of your fancy craft beers on me.”

“They’re good,” I retort. “And innovative. Small craft breweries owned by individuals instead of huge companies, local distribution, small batches—”

“I know, I know.” He laughs. “But I still like my Sam Adams.”

So do I, even though I do prefer beer from small breweries in Vermont, like Hill Farmstead and Lawson’s. But kicking back with a frosty Sam Adams while I chow down on wings and authentic New York-style pizza? I’ve got no complaints.

While we eat, we chat about easy things like sports and movies and news about our friends who are still active duty. Cole asks about my parents, who he’s met many times, and I tell him all about my mom’s recent mission to put my dad on a diet.

“She tried packing healthy lunches for him to take to the store,” I explain, shaking my head ruefully.

“And he never said he wasn’t eating them.

It was only after a month that she stopped in and caught him eating McDonald’s.

Then it came out that he’s been giving his healthy meals to the other employees and getting fast food every day instead. ”

“I can only imagine how your mom reacted. I bet she wasn’t happy.”

“Not really.” With a smile, I add, “But she got over it. She and my dad never stay upset at each other for long.”

“Your parents are great,” Cole says. “It’s too bad I won’t have time to get to Vermont to see them.”

“Maybe for Christmas, if you have time,” I suggest. “Traveling from Texas… it might be tough. But you’re always invited.”

There’s a long pause before he responds. “Well. Maybe I won’t be in Texas by then.”

Setting my plate down on the coffee table, I turn to him. “Have you decided to leave the department? Find a different job?”

Cole’s expression goes serious. “I’m thinking about it. This idea I have…”

“The one you’ve been thinking about since that case.”

“Yeah. It’s really stuck with me. And after we talked that day… I’ve been thinking a lot about it. It feels so wrong that a woman could be in clear danger, but the police can’t do what they need to help her.”

“It is wrong,” I agree. “So… how would you fix it?”

A corner of his mouth pulls up. “So… that’s actually one of the reasons I came to New York. I wanted to see you, of course, but also—” He pulls out his phone and taps the screen a few times, then turns it towards me, displaying a real estate listing for a large, rundown office building.

“I was hoping you might head there tomorrow to look at it with me,” Cole says. “It’s in Sleepy Hollow, just about thirty miles from here.”

I look at him in confusion. “Why do you want to look at an office building?”

“Because I think it could be the perfect location for a new venture. Close to the city, so travel would be easy, but the property is nice and private.” Cole gives me a knowing look. “Not as crowded as here. Much quieter.”

A flicker of hope kindles in my chest.

“What do you want to do with the building?”

He gives me an almost nervous smile. “I have an idea for a business. A company. One that we could all be a part of. You. Me. Rylan. Zane. Finn. Nora. If it works… we could be a team again.”

Oh.

If we could…

The small flame of hope grows bigger. Brighter.

“What are you thinking?”

Cole meets my gaze, his expression filled with the same hope I’m feeling. “It’s a gamble, Leo. But if it works, the reward could be incredible.”

There’s no question of my answer. “Let’s go see it. Tomorrow. And I want to hear everything .”