It certainly wasn’t being elbow deep in a rising drug war between two dangerous empires and locked in the back of a DEA agent’s car.

He had no weapon.

No back-up.

No plan.

All he had was his instincts, and although his burgeoning friendship with Alan meant he wasn’t sitting in cuffs, his gut told him something was off.

Why had Sinclair kept the deal from Alan?

Why were they here if they were looking to bring down the Riders?

In the seat in front of him, Alan shuffled with discomfort, clearly irate at the unfolding situation. On the drive to Marion, they’d spoken a few words, but the agent’s fury had kept the conversation to a minimum. Now, sat in the darkness halfway down the street, Sam watched as Alan stared at the van as it came to a stop.

‘He’s stopped.’ Sam pointed.

‘But why?’ Alan asked, not expecting an answer. Sam looked around the street. The roads were as abandoned as they were in Dillon. Although the Rider’s influence was drastically reduced in the town, Sam had a feeling the group made the residence aware of who was in charge on a frequent basis. With the engine off, Alan sat back in his chair, puffing his cheeks in frustration before shooting a glance to the mirror. Sam made eye contact.

‘Don’t try anything stupid, okay?’ Alan spoke firmly. ‘If anything happens, I’ll do my best to keep Alex safe. Once she’s out of the way, we can discuss what we do with you.’

‘As long as she’s okay, and she gets back to her family, you can hand me over to the government for all I care.’ Sam shrugged, turning to look out at the window. ‘I know there is a price for the things I’ve done, and this is the last promise I need to keep before I’m willing to pay up.’

Alan huffed, trying his best to mask his admiration. But Sam could feel it. It was an in-built kinship that was shared by anyone who had served their country. Being a soldier wasn’t just a job. To every man or woman who had worn their country’s uniform and fought with pride, it was a vocation. The bond that was built between your comrades, the trust that you instilled in them and they in you, was what forged a link that surpassed any other.

There were soldiers who were closer to their brothers and sisters than they were to their own wives.

Sam had never felt a connection that strong, but he understood it. While Lucy and Jamie, when they were his family, were his reason for fighting, there had still been people he’d been willing to die for.

Willing to kill for.

It was what had compelled him to chase Marsden across Europe, inciting the war with Wallace and Blackridge.