Page 7

CHAPTER 6

E than returned to his house without further disasters and headed straight for the shower, scrubbing away the stairway stain residue and the lingering scent of caramel macchiato that clung to his clothes. After changing into clean jeans and a soft, worn T-shirt, he went downstairs to his secure workspace.

Before entering the room, he placed Star’s cell phone into a Faraday box. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her—it was protocol. Every electronic device had to be shielded before it entered his secure area.

He powered on his system and waited while the monitors came to life and the encrypted programs initialized. His Guardian phone buzzed softly in his pocket as the monitoring app confirmed all systems were operational. The Guardian controllers were running dynamic missions globally, but all systems remained firmly in the green in his little corner of the world.

Ethan settled into his chair, logged into the system, connected the wires to Star’s phone and accessed her information. Within moments, he downloaded the transcription and associated metadata. He then added several layers of firewall protection to her device. The new security protocols wouldn’t stop a determined, high-level hacker but would certainly block the opportunistic amateurs who prowled the digital landscape for easy targets.

Satisfied with the phone's security, he turned his attention to the video feed from the hardware store. The system was laughably easy to access—no encryption, no multi-layer security protocols or even a simple password rotation. Ethan shook his head, equal parts annoyed and unsurprised by the suburban complacency.

The five-block stretch of their neighborhood was a self-contained bubble of middle-class normalcy: hardware stores, coffee shops, grocery stores, and a veil of respectability masking the quiet hum of everyday life. But Ethan knew better. He’d seen the worst humanity had to offer—firsthand and through the deep-dive research he’d conducted alongside his mentor at Guardian.

He generally liked people, but he didn’t trust them. His Guardian family operated under unyielding principles of truth and integrity. The rest of the world? Not so much.

As the street-level video feed loaded, a voice crackled into his earpiece.

“What are you working on?” his mentor’s voice asked, smooth and calm as always.

“My neighbor next door,” Ethan replied, clicking through the timestamped footage. “She had her dictation app open and?—”

“Yeah, I see,” his mentor interrupted.

Ethan’s lips twitched. Of course, he already knew. If it were on his computer, his mentor would have access. Ethan continued, “She recorded someone talking about killing someone.” He pressed on as he synchronized the hardware store's internal feed with the street-level cameras. His mentor's cursor appeared on the other side of the screen, activating the facial recognition software.

The two of them worked in near silence, each instinctively handling their part of the task. Ethan tracked street-level activity while his mentor ran the faces through Guardian's deep-learning recognition system.

“So,” his mentor drawled after a minute, “what are you going to do about this dude, Kyle?”

Ethan huffed out a laugh. “Do you know everything?”

His mentor made a noncommittal noise. “Yeah … pretty much. Oh—there you go. One hit.”

The display shifted as the timestamped information aligned with the footage from the street cameras. Ethan’s eyes locked on the new data as a license plate appeared crisply on the screen. “Running it through DMV,” he said, tapping a command into the keyboard.

“Are you avoiding the Kyle question?” his mentor asked, amusement evident in his tone.

Ethan chuckled. “No, not at all. I’ve got to fix a stair step today, so I’m going to visit the hardware store.”

“Yeah, I saw you fall through the steps.”

Ethan froze, fingers stilling on the keyboard. “Are you hacking into my camera system?”

His mentor's soft laugh crackled through the earpiece. “What would you do if you were expecting me to show up online, and I didn’t?”

Ethan frowned. “Wait. Why were you expecting me to be online?”

“It’s Thursday, isn’t it? Thursday’s your off day from working out, so you usually log in earlier.”

Ethan shook his head and let out a low laugh. “Human beings are creatures of habit, aren’t we?”

“Indeed, we are,” his mentor agreed. “Okay, here we go. Facial recognition hit. Meet your two perps.”

The data streamed across Ethan's screen—mugshots, arrest records, known aliases. The scrolling text halted abruptly as the program displayed their criminal affiliations.

Ethan’s jaw tightened. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered, leaning closer. “They’re with the Mafia.”

“Excuse me?” his mentor asked, his tone instantly shifting from casual to sharp.

Ethan straightened in his chair, eyes still locked on the screen. “The guys Star recorded … They're connected to a Mafia family out of Manhattan.”

His mentor let out a low whistle. “Looks like your neighbor just wandered into a whole lot more trouble than she realized.”

Ethan's stomach knotted. “Yeah,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “And now, it’s my job to ensure she survives it. She thought she stumbled into a setup for a Mafia hit,” Ethan said, still shaking his head. “She even watched The Godfather last night when she couldn’t sleep.”

“Why?” The genuine curiosity was new.

He sighed. “To get tips on how to survive a hit.”

His mentor's full-on belly laugh echoed through the earpiece. “I really want to meet this woman.”

“And when's that supposed to happen?” Ethan asked as he expanded the digital web of known associates linked to the two suspects they'd identified.

“Always inquisitive. You have a new relationship starting. I’ll give you time to get settled.”

Ethan huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, if she doesn’t kill me in the process.”

The voice chuckled knowingly. “I’ve got the systems here. You focus on tracking this down. If those guys really are planning a hit, and they think Star knows something, she could be in danger.”

“Yeah, I know.” Ethan’s jaw tightened as the weight of that truth settled in his chest. “I’m going to use some of the equipment I have here to reinforce her house and set up security measures that will give us an early warning if anyone comes sniffing around.”

“Sounds like a plan. If you need me, I’m here. Don’t hesitate to reach out.” The man’s voice took on a more serious tone. “And keep your earpiece in.”

“I will. But I’ll keep it on mute unless something comes up.”

“Just like mine,” his mentor said with a low laugh. “Speaking of, someone new—recently transferred in from a position within the CIA—is interested in working on the nanotech of our communication systems.”

Ethan made a noncommittal noise of acknowledgment as he keyed in another search. “Echo, Deacon’s wife.”

His companion chuckled. “You're doing better than anticipated. Has anyone ever told you you're one of the smartest men in the world?”

Ethan barked a laugh. “I'm definitely not.”

“Since I happen to be one of the three smartest men in the world,” he said lightly, “I believe you can trust me when I tell you that you're one of the other two.”

Ethan's fingers paused on the keyboard. “And the third?”

“The third,” he said, voice turning contemplative, “is someone you'll hopefully find when you start to think about retirement. You'll need to choose someone who thinks outside the box. Someone whose intelligence doesn’t overshadow their common sense. Someone who can tackle a problem, find a solution, and live with the consequences of that solution.”

Ethan sat back in his chair and rubbed his face. “Yeah … the consequences. That's what keeps me awake some nights. Securing Guardian’s systems, protecting our people, and trying to safeguard a constantly evolving country … It's a lot. Sometimes it feels like we’re playing God.”

“It is a lot,” his mentor said softly. “And humanity forces our hand more often than we'd like. But as long as we act for the good of all—and not for evil—we can sleep at night.”

Ethan nodded, though his mentor couldn't see it. “I've talked to a few people who used to work in the shadows. That's how they justified their actions. Said it was in the defense of others. But that responsibility … it’s heavy. Heavier than most people realize.”

There was a long silence. He often went quiet when he was thinking, and Ethan had learned to wait it out.

Finally, the man broke the silence. “I've never told you my name, have I?”

Ethan's breath caught, his eyes snapping to the screen. “No. You haven’t.”

“Would you like to know?” he asked, almost teasingly.

Ethan let out a shaky laugh. “Well, hell yeah. For the last ten years, you've just been ‘my mentor.’”

“You never gave me a nickname?”

“Oh, I did. Several.” Ethan smirked. “There was Asshole Voice from the Abyss and, of course, Mysterious Pain-in-My-Ass. I know you use a voice filter, but damned if I can get around it to know what you really sound like.”

His mentor’s laugh rolled through the earpiece. “Well, I came up with a few nicknames for you, too. There were days when you were a dick. And that one time you were an asshole. Then there was the period where I called you that fucking kid. But we worked through it.”

Ethan laughed so hard he had to sit back from the console. “Fair. That's fair.”

“My name is Max.”

Ethan’s laughter faded into a surprised smile. “ Max. ” He let the name settle on his tongue. “Hi, Max. My name's Ethan.”

“Dude, I already know that.”

“Yeah, yeah. I just figured we should finally introduce ourselves properly.”

Silence fell again, but that time, it was comfortable. Max wasn’t much for small talk, and Ethan appreciated that. Both of them could get lost in their own minds and then pick up a conversation hours later as though no time had passed.

Finally, Max spoke again. “I've got the systems covered here. You take care of the situation on your end.”

“Got it.”

“And may I give you a piece of advice?”

“Always,” Ethan said, straightening in his chair.

“Don't let her get away. The good ones always come with a little chaos.”

Ethan smiled as Star’s face flashed through his mind. Sue him. He’d memorized her wide, expressive eyes and the adorable wrinkle of her nose when she was thinking. God, when she rambled, her pure, infectious energy lit up everything she did.

“Yeah,” Ethan said softly. “I’m starting to realize that.”

“Don't treat the Mafia lightly, either,” Max said, his voice low and serious. “I'm not sure which family these guys are tied to—or if they’re some kind of freelancers. Get Guardian involved if you need to. Don’t take any chances. We need you behind the computer screens. That is where you’re most valuable.”

Ethan chuckled softly. “I’m here, and I think I’ll leave the chasing, shooting, running, and gunning to the others. I’m not a fool. But I can defend myself.”

A wicked sneer curled his lips as memories surfaced. His father had made damn sure of that. Ethan had grown up training in combat techniques most soldiers didn’t learn until advanced-level special forces courses. He was an expert marksman, capable of going toe-to-toe with the best Guardian operatives.

Sure, he left the fieldwork to others, but if someone came for him—or Star—he wouldn’t hesitate. He’d take the fight to them. Full force. No mercy.

He might present himself as a laid-back computer security specialist, but beneath that civilian cover was a Guardian agent with federal authority and the weight of the organization behind him. Being a Guardian wasn’t just a job; it was in his blood, woven into the very fabric of his DNA.

“Let me know how things go,” Max said, interrupting his thoughts.

Ethan snorted. “Like you won’t know the second it happens.”

“We tend to get the information first, don’t we?” Max chuckled.

“Always,” Ethan agreed. “And we ensure it’s routed to the right people at the right time.”

Silence followed, and then Max asked, “Are you fulfilled, Ethan?”

Ethan’s fingers stilled on the keyboard, and his gaze shifted to the screen. “That’s … an odd question.”

“Is your job fulfilling to you?” Max pressed.

Leaning back in his chair, he let the question roll around in his head. He wouldn’t answer flippantly—Max didn’t ask casual questions.

“Yes,” he finally said. “Yes, I’m fulfilled. I’m challenged, excited, and confident in my abilities. Do I sometimes long for more social interaction? No.” He gave a soft laugh. “I grew up on a mountain in a cave. I know how to be social when necessary, and I generally like people. But the isolation of this job doesn’t bother me. If I need social contact, I can get it.”

He hesitated, then added, “If you’re concerned that I’m going to walk away from Guardian—or this position—or the trust people have placed in me, rest assured, I won’t. I take this job seriously. People’s lives depend on us, and I’ll do everything in my power to make you and Archangel proud of me.”

The figure on the screen leaned forward slightly. For the first time since their collaboration began a decade earlier, Max’s face came into focus.

Ethan froze. “Mack, you bastard.”

“Max, actually. Or did you already forget?” This time, his voice wasn’t filtered.

“Years, dude. We’ve been working out and sparring for years, and you never said a fucking word.”

“Some things need to wait.” Max shrugged. “I needed to keep an eye on my charge.”

Ethan stared at the man on the monitor. His eyes were sharp. Razor-sharp. Ethan recognized the predatory glint—he’d seen it before in hardened Guardian operatives who’d lived in the field too long to relax, even in civilian settings. He’d thought it was Mack’s fight mode, but no … all the disjointed splinters of his life fell together. This man wasn’t just some computer genius. He was a warrior.

“Ethan,” Max said softly. “You’re a good man. No one could be prouder of what you’ve done, learned, and accomplished than I am. You’ve surprised me more than once with the unique way you solve problems. That inventive, out-of-the-box thinking will keep Guardian ahead of its enemies.”

Ethan’s throat tightened as he stared at the screen. Max was a whisper of a legend. The compliment was so unexpected it stunned him into silence.

Max leaned back again, his face slipping into the shadows. “Take care of your woman, Ethan. And don't let her break your leg while she’s at it.”

The screen went black.

Ethan sat motionless for a moment, then released a breath and chuckled. Rubbing the back of his neck, he leaned forward, replaying the conversation.

His gaze flicked around the workspace, taking in the systems, the secure mesh net, the overlapping firewalls, the redundant encryption layers—all creations he'd developed under Max’s mentorship. It had always been a cat-and-mouse game, trying to stay ahead of Guardian's enemies. It was exhilarating. Challenging. Fulfilling.

And yet … something was missing.

His eyes shifted to the small basement window. Sunlight filtered through the thick, reinforced glass. Outside, life went on. People walked their dogs, neighbors trimmed their hedges, and cars passed by with passengers on their way to mundane jobs.

And next door, Star was probably stepping on loose floorboards, knocking over vases, or accidentally setting the new stain on fire.

Star.

His lips twitched into a reluctant smile. God, she was a walking disaster. A Picasso plastered over a Monet, taped to a Michelangelo, with a side of Jackson Pollock splatter thrown in for flair. A chaotic masterpiece. A hot mess of epic proportions.

And, damn it, he wanted her to be his hot mess.

Ethan exhaled and shook his head to clear the distraction. He turned back to the monitors, his gaze locking on the mugshots of the two men from the hardware store.

“Time to play detective,” he muttered.