Chapter 5 - A New Horizon
Three months later, the spring sun was shining brightly over the rolling hills of Virginia as I stood on the parade grounds of the Pentagon, the brass stars of a full Colonel catching the morning light on my shoulders.
The transition of my father’s estate had been fully completed. True to his wishes, the primary trust was securely locked down, protecting his legacy and funding veterans’ educational outreach programs—a cause he had secretly supported for decades. Austin had finally been forced to take an entry-level job at a local logistics firm, discovering for the first time in his life what it meant to earn a paycheck instead of stealing one. Evelyn and Gregory had relocated to a modest apartment on the outskirts of Baltimore, their high-society friends having completely abandoned them the moment the federal indictments and civil asset forfeitures hit the public record.
They were ghosts of a past I had finally left behind.
My private phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, expecting a secure notification from military intelligence or a status report from the estate executors. Instead, it was a simple text message from an unknown local number, though I instantly recognized the legal firm signature attached to the bottom.
“The paperwork is fully executed, Colonel Prescott. Thank you for your mercy.”
I smiled, locked my phone, and slipped it back into my pocket. There was no need to reply. Mercy wasn't something I gave them out of kindness; it was simply the byproduct of a professional who no longer needed to fight battles against people who weren't even worthy of the combat boots on my feet.
Major Vance approached from the command pavilion, his posture rigid and formal as he stopped two paces away and offered a crisp salute.
“Colonel. General Hayes is ready for you in the primary conference room. Classified briefing on the eastern sector intelligence feeds starts in five minutes.”
May you like
I returned the salute, feeling the absolute strength of purpose that had guided my entire adult life—a life built on honor, resilience, and an unshakeable refusal to ever be cornered again.
“Let’s move, Major,” I said, turning toward the building. “I’m ready.”
