Sophia sat comfortably on the couch, her legs curled under her, a large bowl of popcorn balanced on her lap as the flickering light from the TV cast soft shadows across the living room. She was halfway through a movie—some action-packed blockbuster she had seen a dozen times but still enjoyed. Crunching on a buttery handful of popcorn, she felt herself getting lost in the scenes on the screen. The hero was in the middle of a high-stakes chase when she heard a door creak open.
Startled, she turned, expecting to see an empty hallway. Instead, her father, Oliver, stepped out of his room, closing the door quietly behind him. His appearance surprised her. She had checked his room a few minutes ago, and he wasn't there. Had she really been so distracted that she hadn't noticed him?
"Going somewhere?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as he grabbed his jacket from the coat rack.
Oliver smiled, a rare softness in his expression. "Just heading to the store to grab a few things. And… I'm meeting a friend."
Sophia's smile grew wide, playful curiosity twinkling in her eyes. "Oh? Meeting a friend? Is it anyone I know?" Her tone teased, hinting at the possibility of something more.
Oliver chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Not exactly."
"Well, I hope you have fun," Sophia grinned, standing up to follow him to the door. As he stepped outside, she waved goodbye. "Take care, Dad."
He nodded, pulling the door shut behind him. Sophia closed the door gently and leaned against it for a moment. "Well, well," she mused aloud, talking to herself. "Old man's making progress. Who knows? Maybe he's off to meet a woman," she said with a smirk, her thoughts wandering to the idea of her father finding someone new. It was a comforting thought, seeing him move on, maybe even finding a little happiness after all these years.
Shaking her head, she returned to the couch, diving back into her movie with a fresh handful of popcorn. The smile lingered on her lips as the action on the screen once again pulled her in.
---
On the Road
Oliver sat behind the wheel, his mind laser-focused as he navigated the quiet streets, heading toward his next destination. This wasn't a social call, and certainly not just a casual meet-up. He was going to meet Ethan Carter—the first person he would recruit for the team.
Ethan was someone Oliver had read about extensively over the past few days. A former military strategist turned private contractor, he had been involved in several high-profile operations. He was known for his quick thinking and ability to adapt to any situation. If anyone could help him put together a flawless plan to infiltrate a bank vault, it would be Ethan.
The letter in his pocket still weighed heavily on his mind, but he pushed it aside for now. First, he needed to get Ethan on board. But something told him it wasn't going to be as simple as knocking on a door and asking nicely.
---
Ethan was in trouble. Not the kind of trouble that a brilliant strategist like him usually found himself in, but the kind that came out of nowhere, catching even the most prepared off guard.
It had started as a simple job—security consulting for a private client in a less-than-savory part of town. The client had needed some quick advice on how to bolster their systems, and Ethan had agreed, thinking it would be a straightforward task. But now, things had spiraled out of control.
He was cornered in an alley behind a dingy bar, flanked by two thugs who clearly had more in mind than just asking him for security advice. One of them cracked his knuckles, grinning menacingly. "We don't like it when people ask too many questions, Carter," the larger of the two sneered.
Ethan's sharp green eyes darted between them, calculating his options. His 6'2" frame gave him a physical advantage, but these guys weren't amateurs. He could see it in the way they moved—disciplined, trained. They weren't just muscle; they knew what they were doing.
"Look," Ethan said, his voice calm despite the tension, "I was hired to do a job. That's it. I don't care about your operations or your secrets. I'm just here to fix your security."
But the thugs weren't interested in explanations. One of them lunged at Ethan, aiming for his midsection with a quick jab. Ethan ducked, dodging the blow, and swung back with a punch that landed squarely on the thug's jaw. The man stumbled but didn't go down. The second thug moved in fast, grabbing Ethan by the collar and slamming him against the wall.
Things were about to get ugly when the unmistakable sound of a car screeching to a halt cut through the air. A sleek black sedan pulled up at the mouth of the alley, its headlights casting long shadows over the scene.
Out of the car stepped Oliver, his face unreadable, but his posture tense. Without a word, he moved toward the thugs, his presence commanding immediate attention.
The men hesitated, unsure of who this newcomer was, but their instincts told them not to take him lightly. One of the thugs shifted, pulling a knife from his belt.
Oliver didn't flinch. With a swift, practiced motion, he grabbed the thug's wrist and twisted, sending the knife clattering to the ground. A second later, he delivered a precise blow to the man's shoulder, sending him sprawling.
The second thug took a step back, suddenly wary. "Who the hell are you?" he growled, eyes darting between Oliver and Ethan.
Oliver shot a glance at Ethan, who was still catching his breath. "You good?"
Ethan nodded, his breathing steadying as he pushed himself off the wall. "Yeah. Thanks."
The second thug, seeing that he was outmatched, decided to cut his losses. With a scowl, he grabbed his fallen comrade and dragged him away, disappearing into the shadows of the alley.
Oliver turned to face Ethan fully now, his expression calm but serious.
"Who are you?" Ethan asked, his sharp green eyes narrowing as he sized up the man who had just saved him.
Oliver paused for a moment, then gave a small, knowing smile. "We'll get to that."