Guests dropped to the floor as the young man raised the pistol toward Marcus.
But Marcus moved first.
Years of military instinct took over instantly.
He shoved the little girl beneath the booth just as the gun FIRED.
GLASS shattered behind him.
Marcus grabbed a heavy whiskey bottle from a nearby table and launched it across the diner.
CRACK.
The bottle smashed into the gunman’s face.
The pistol skidded across the marble floor.
Chaos erupted.
Marcus charged like a freight train.
The young man stumbled backward, blood running down his cheek, and crashed into the counter.
“You should’ve stayed dead!” the man screamed.
Marcus slammed him against the wall hard enough to rattle the chandeliers.
“Where’s Lily?!”
The man laughed through bloody teeth.
“You still don’t get it… do you?”
Marcus tightened his grip.
The little girl peeked out from beneath the booth, crying.
Then the gunman looked directly at her and smirked.
“She lied to you.”
Marcus froze.
The man leaned closer.
“She never disappeared.”
Marcus’s heart stopped.
“What?”
The gunman grinned wider.
“She ran.”
Silence.
Rain crashed against the windows.
The entire diner watched in horror.
Marcus shook with rage.
“You’re lying.”
“No,” the man whispered. “She ran the night she found out what really happened on your last mission.”
Marcus’s face drained of color.
Because there was only one way this stranger could know about that mission.
Only survivors knew.
The gunman slowly smiled.
“You don’t recognize me… do you, Captain?”
Marcus stepped back in shock.
Impossible.
The man reached into his coat again slowly—
—and pulled out an old burned military photo.
Marcus stared at it like he’d seen a ghost.
Every soldier in the photo was dead.
Except one.
The man smiled coldly.
“You left me there to burn.”
Lightning flashed across the diner windows.
The little girl looked between them in terror.
Then the gunman pointed toward the child.
“And now your daughter pays for it.”
Marcus lunged forward—
BANG.
