Chapter 7 - Rebuilding the Perimeter
The cabin looked different in the autumn sunlight. Without the shadow of the Pierce family hanging over us, the weathered timber walls felt like a stronghold built by honest labor and protected by loyalty.
We spent the afternoon sorting through ammo boxes in the back bedroom, cataloging documents, and transferring digital archives to secure cold-storage drives. Jackson and Maeve had relocated to Zurich, leaving Vanguard Holdings operating as a quiet philanthropic trust dedicated to restoring worker pensions and funding veterans' rehabilitation programs.
"What's the next objective, Captain?" Dad asked, leaning against the kitchen counter.
I looked around the room—the cracked vinyl table, the whiteboard, the worn boots by the door. For the first time in months, the heavy pressure in my chest was gone. The wedding dress was gone. The fake diamond ring was at the bottom of the East River.
"No more targets, Dad," I said, a genuine smile breaking through. "We hold the ground we’ve got. We make it secure."
"Sounds like a damn good plan," he agreed, biting into an apple.
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As the sun dipped below the tree line, I walked out onto the front porch. The crisp evening air filled my lungs. I smelled pine needles, damp earth, and wood smoke curling from our chimney.
The perimeter was quiet. The mission was accomplished.
