I Was Eating Lunch With My Wife When The Sheriff Walked In. He Poured A Cold Milkshake Over My Head And Laughed, "Look At This Trash. He Won't Do A Thing."

Logan swept through the alleyways of Paradise Ridge like a shadow of vengeance. The town he had come to love—the peaceful streets, the quiet bakery, the hardware store—was under siege by foreign mercenaries. But the killers had made one fatal calculation: they thought they were dealing with a retired, soft mechanic.

Using the terrain to his advantage, Logan took out two sentries near the water tower with suppressed shots. He stripped them of their grenades and extra ammunition, moving silently toward the center of town.

Inside the diner, Vance paced nervously, flanked by four heavily armed guards. Sheriff Thomas was bound to a chair, bruised and bleeding, but still glaring defiantly at Vance.

"He's not coming, you city slicker," Sheriff Thomas spat through bloody teeth. "Logan isn't the kind of man you can intimidate."

"Shut up!" Vance barked, pointing his pistol at the sheriff's head. "He'll come. He's heroic to a fault. That's his weakness."

"No," a deep voice echoed from the shadows of the kitchen. "It's my strength."

Before Vance could react, the lights in the diner shattered as Logan threw an EMP flashbang into the room. The blinding light and deafening bang disoriented the mercenaries.

Logan burst through the kitchen doors. In three precise movements, he fired three shots, dropping three of the guards before they could even raise their weapons. The fourth guard lunged with a combat knife, but Logan caught the man's wrist, snapped it back, and drove his knee into his chest, throwing him through the front glass window.

Vance scrambled backward, grabbing the sheriff as a human shield, aiming his gun at Logan's chest.

"Don't move! I'll kill him!" Vance screamed, his composure completely shattered.

Logan raised his handgun, his sight aligned perfectly between Vance's eyes. The air in the room grew ice-cold.

"Go ahead," Logan said coldly. "Kill him, and you won't live to hear the body hit the floor."

Just then, a rifle crack echoed from the hillside outside. The bullet shattered the window and tore through Vance's right shoulder. Vance shrieked in pain, dropping his gun and letting go of the sheriff.

Through the broken window, Logan saw the glare of a scope on the ridge—Nora had taken the shot from over four hundred yards away.

Logan stepped forward, kicking Vance's gun away, and unceremoniously knocked Vance unconscious with the butt of his pistol. He quickly cut Sheriff Thomas's ropes.