Weeks of torment at the paramedic school had wound him tightly, the psychological tension coiled to the breaking point. And broke he had, unfortunately for the master sergeant’s face when the altercation was over. A wired jaw, a broken nose, a fractured cheek, and a quick investigation later, and Tech Sergeant Oliver was just Kevin Oliver. He was just as furious with himself as he was with the master sergeant.

Out of the military with a dishonorable discharge attached to his name, his options were limited. If it hadn’t been for his close friend and active-duty PJ, Staff Sergeant Raymond O’Shea from Boston, he might still be wandering aimlessly, a modern-day ronin with strong skills but nowhere to use them.

Raymond was friends with the chief of operations for a private contractor firm called Huntsmen Enterprises. A phone call had been made, a meeting had occurred, and a year later, he felt like he was part of a team, one of the regulars that were called by Barrett Connolly when they had an especially sensitive job. Kevin had a fluid moral compass, and it worked to both his and his employer’s benefit.

For the Hidden Refuge operation, he had one job: maintain crowd control at the traffic circle and ensure the residents left as directed. He’d been doing just that, with more than half of the population evacuated to the school. The operation was going as smoothly as any he’d participated in, right up until the old man rushed him.

If it hadn’t been for the wind, everything might have been fine, but Mother Nature was a force to be reckoned with, and she had a mind of her own.

Kevin was forty feet from the road, standing near one of the vans, when he heard a door slam, followed by yelling. By the time he identified and faced the commotion, the old man was halfway to him. Instinctively, Kevin withdrew the Glock he wore on a gun belt as part of his Falling Rock uniform and raised it toward the approaching threat. His senses heightened, and he saw an old man in a gray T-shirt, khakis, and wild gray hair under a navy-blue hoodie running toward him at full speed.

“Sir! Stop! I said stop!” his partner standing next to him yelled.

Come on, man. Don’t do this. Are you fucking crazy? Kevin’s finger was straight and off the trigger, watching as the man held his right arm down and out of view. You’ve got to be kidding me. The man kept running, and he raised his arm.

And then the wind blew, and the night turned to chaos as Murphy, ever the saboteur, took control over the cascading events.

Crack!