After chatting a bit with Brock, Owen learned that Amanda had actually been assigned to the same class as Mandy. The two girls—one older, one younger—had hit it off almost immediately. Amanda had a natural knack for dealing with kids, and their bond had grown quickly. Today, Brock had picked Mandy up from school and brought Amanda home as well. Before taking off, he'd invited Owen to join them for a ride, but Owen declined. Amanda was probably still annoyed with him, and he wasn't about to insert himself into that situation. She was his sister, not his girlfriend.
"Steve, what do you think of Brock?" his mother suddenly asked from behind.
Owen thought for a moment. "He seems alright."
"Then do you think it's okay if we invite them over for dinner tonight?" she asked again. In the past, back in Los Angeles, she would have made that kind of decision on her own. But after everything they'd been through, she was far more cautious now. Inviting new people over meant assessing the risk. She'd always check with McCall or Owen first.
Owen nodded. "I think it's a good idea."
Brock's background checked out. More importantly, Mandy was clearly his real daughter—no one used their own child as cover in that line of work. And Owen respected how Brock treated his daughter. Anyone who did that was worth getting to know. Besides, both families were newcomers to the area, and a closer connection could be mutually beneficial. Not that Owen thought they really needed backup—McCall alone was a fortress.
Seeing Owen's approval and no objections from McCall, Susan smiled. "Alright. I'll invite them myself in a bit."
As they headed back inside, the sound of laughter echoed from nearby. Amanda and Mandy were still out enjoying their ride, the younger girl clearly delighted by the surprise gift and the company of a new friend.
Susan headed off to check the fridge and start preparing dinner. McCall relaxed on the couch, and Owen suddenly remembered something he'd been meaning to ask—about White Mask and the Four Horsemen. Avril had claimed to be the Death Knight. McCall had CIA experience. Maybe he'd heard something.
"McCall, have you ever heard of the Four Horsemen?"
"The Four Horsemen? As in the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse?"
"You've heard of them?"
"Of course—mentioned in the Bible."
Owen groaned inwardly. McCall was talking about biblical prophecy. He didn't believe in that stuff and didn't know much about it either.
Realizing the misunderstanding, Owen explained everything he knew about the White Mask organization, especially Avril's claim of being one of the "Four Horsemen." He watched McCall carefully as he spoke.
McCall frowned, thinking it over, then shook his head. "Never heard of Avril. Never heard of the Medusa Project. And White Mask? That wasn't around during my time. Must be a newer group. As for the Four Horsemen nickname, yeah, they probably pulled that straight from the Bible. You might want to read Revelation sometime. That's where it's from. Could give you some perspective."
It wasn't the solid intel Owen was hoping for, but it wasn't unexpected either. The biggest strength of White Mask was its secrecy. If someone like McCall had heard of them casually, they'd have been taken down already.
About an hour later, Amanda and Mandy passed by the house and were stopped by Susan.
"Mandy, thank you so much for the cookies you brought us yesterday. They were delicious. So we'd love to invite you and your father to our home for dinner tonight. Would you like that?"
"You're inviting us? For dinner? That's amazing! Thank you, Aunt Susan—I mean, yes! I'd love to! But I have to check with my dad first…"
"Of course. Mr. Brock is very much invited too. Amanda will walk home with you, and she'll extend the formal invitation on behalf of our whole family."
The two girls happily headed off. Susan got to work preparing dinner. A friendly gesture like this would rarely be turned down—especially in a small town.
Sure enough, Amanda returned later with confirmation: Brock and Mandy would be coming to dinner that evening. It all felt a bit over-formal, but neither family even had the other's phone number yet. That would change soon.
That evening, Brock and Mandy arrived right on time. Brock wore his usual jeans, flannel, and baseball cap, but Mandy had clearly made an effort—not quite the tomboy look from before.
Owen, as host, took their gift and welcomed them inside. For the meal, Susan played it safe. Unsure what her guests might like, she skipped her usual Chinese cooking and stuck with American staples: grilled meat, salads, and a few other familiar sides.
"Try the beef, I think you'll like it. Oh, Brock—what did you do before moving here?" Susan asked at the table.
"Fitness coach. I taught people kickboxing."
"No wonder you're so skilled. We saw you beat the crap out of those two jerks at the gas station. They had it coming…"
A glass of wine had Susan in good spirits. She even mimicked some of Brock's moves, drawing laughter.
Brock shrugged and chewed a piece of steak.
"And you, McCall? What did you do before this? I see you reading all the time—I figured you were a teacher?"
Everyone around the table laughed at that.
McCall dabbed his lips with a napkin and set his utensils down. "A teacher? No, no. I was a taxi driver."
He wasn't lying. After retiring from the CIA, he'd gone through a rough patch and actually drove a cab for a while—though more accurately, he was a vigilante driver.
Brock looked surprised. "A cab driver? Doesn't quite fit."
McCall chuckled. "Yeah, I quit not long after. But I did help a lot of people while I was behind the wheel."
He sounded proud. Everyone assumed he meant helping folks who forgot their wallets or needed directions—only Owen knew exactly what kind of help McCall was referring to.
"And you?" Brock turned to Owen.
Owen shrugged. "Firefighter. Not from around here—I worked in D.C."
"Oh, a firefighter! That's amazing. I bet you've saved a lot of lives," Mandy said, clearly intrigued by the profession.
Owen thought back to the White House incident and how many people he'd saved. He smirked and shrugged again. "Yeah, quite a few."
"To our firefighter!" Amanda suddenly raised her glass. The whole family knew what he really did, and to be honest, CTU agents weren't all that different from firefighters—they just showed up for a different kind of emergency.
The dinner was a great success. As expected from a first-time get-together, the conversation stayed polite and light. No deep secrets were shared, and Owen pretended not to know anything about Brock's background.
When the meal ended, Brock and Mandy said their goodbyes and headed home. After just one dinner, the two families already felt much closer.
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