"Mr. Reynolds, we're not interested in neighborhood drama."

"Neither am I."

"Good."

The officer left.

But I knew Derek had crossed a line.

He was trying to create a story.

A story where he was the victim.

A story where I was the mysterious dangerous man.

And stories become dangerous when enough people believe them.

The next morning, I received a message from Marcus.

I heard about your neighbor.

I replied:

How?

His answer came quickly.

Because someone from the old days saw your name.

I stared at the screen.

Then another message appeared.

Jack, you need to know something.

I waited.

Someone has been asking about you.

My stomach tightened.

Derek wasn't the only problem anymore.

Someone else knew who I was.

Someone who knew about my past.

Someone who understood exactly what I had spent years trying to forget.

Two black cars appeared outside my house on Friday morning.

I noticed them immediately.

Not because they looked suspicious.

Because they looked too ordinary.

That was something I had learned long ago.

People who wanted to be noticed drove impressive cars.

People who wanted information drove forgettable ones.

I watched from behind the curtains.

Two men stepped out.

One was tall.

The other carried a folder.

Neither approached my house.

They stood beside the sidewalk.

Then Derek came outside.

My stomach tightened.

They spoke for several minutes.

Derek pointed toward my house.

The men looked directly at my window.

I stepped away.

Five minutes later, there was a knock.

I opened the door.

The tall man showed identification.

"Mr. Reynolds?"

"Yes."

"My name is Daniel Price."

I recognized the agency.

He wasn't there about Derek.

He was there about me.

"How did you find me?"

"We didn't."

He paused.

"Someone gave us your address."

I looked at the second man.

"What do you want?"

Daniel opened the folder.

"We need to talk."

"About?"

"Your former work."

I felt something inside me go cold.

"I don't do that anymore."

"We know."

"Then there's nothing to discuss."

Daniel looked past me.

"Someone is recruiting people you trained."

I didn't answer.

"Three former students have been contacted."

That got my attention.

"By whom?"

"We don't know."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because one of them mentioned you."

I stepped outside.

Daniel lowered his voice.

"Jack, this isn't about your neighbor."

I looked toward Derek's house.

"What is it about?"

"We believe someone is trying to build a private network using former elite personnel."

I shook my head.

"I retired."

"We know."

"I don't want back in."

"We aren't asking you to."

Daniel looked at me carefully.

"We're asking you to help us understand who is behind it."

I didn't answer.

He handed me a card.

"Call if you change your mind."

They left.

I stood there for several minutes.

Then Derek appeared.

"You got visitors."

I turned.

"Yes."

"Who were they?"

"None of your business."

He smiled.

"You know, people around here are starting to wonder about you."

"That's unfortunate."

"You think you're some kind of secret agent?"

"No."

"Then what are you?"

I looked at him.

"Tired."

He laughed.

But this time his laughter sounded nervous.

Maybe he sensed it too.

Something had changed.

The neighborhood wasn't just a neighborhood anymore.

That evening, Marcus called again.

"I need you to listen."

I put the phone on speaker.

"There was an incident at the gym."

"What kind?"

"Someone challenged one of your former students."

"Why?"

"They wanted to know where he learned."

I frowned.

"Did he tell them?"

"No."