Carlos led Solomon and Jamie through the winding paths of the village, the sounds of crackling fires and murmured conversations filling the air. The scent of cooked meat and jungle flowers mixed together, creating a strange but homely atmosphere. As they approached Carlos’s home, a small wooden house with a fenced yard, a child’s voice rang out.

"Papa!"

A little girl, no older than six, rushed toward Carlos, her bare feet kicking up dust. She had dark curls like her father and wide, curious eyes. Right behind her, a woman carrying a toddler stepped onto the porch, her expression a mix of relief and frustration.

"Where have you been, Carlos?" his wife, scolded before her eyes fell on the injured Solomon and the exhausted Jamie. Immediately, concern replaced her irritation.

"Inside. Quickly," Carlos said, ushering them in.

Carlos led Solomon and Jamie into his home, where the warm glow of lanterns cast a golden hue over the modest yet cozy dwelling. The scent of burning wood mixed with the faint aroma of stew simmering in the corner. As soon as they stepped in, Carlos’ six-year-old daughter, Isabella, rushed to him, her small arms wrapping around his leg.

"Papa!" she squealed, her bright eyes filled with joy.

Carlos scooped her up effortlessly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Mi amor, did you behave?"

The little girl nodded enthusiastically before her gaze landed on Solomon. Her tiny mouth parted in wonder. "Is he the hero you told me about?"

Carlos chuckled and set her down. "Sí, Isabella. This is Solomon Kane, the strongest mercenary."

The child gasped, her eyes shimmering with excitement. "Like in the stories?"

Solomon, despite his injuries, managed a small smirk. "Not quite, niña. But I try."

As introductions were made, Carlos' wife, Maria, and his elderly but sharp-eyed father, Alejandro, approached. Maria held their one-year-old son, gently swaying him in her arms. She greeted Jamie warmly, instantly noticing the exhaustion in her eyes.

"Come, sit down. You must be tired," Maria insisted, guiding Jamie toward a chair while Isabella clung to her side. The bond between women, even strangers, was immediate.

Carlos’ mother, Rosa, joined Maria in preparing dinner, while Carlos motioned for Solomon and Alejandro to follow him. "We need to get your wounds treated first."

He led them toward the home of the village’s doctor—who was also his father-in-law.

As they walked, Carlos spoke in hushed tones. "The village is not as peaceful as it seems. Esteban rules with fear. The people… they obey, but they do not respect him."

Alejandro remained silent, his aged but wise eyes flickering with thought. Solomon, still alert despite the pain in his body, listened carefully.

"You think they’ll support a revolt?" Solomon finally asked.

Carlos exhaled. "If the right leader emerges."

They arrived at the doctor’s home. The man was in his late sixties, his hair completely white, but his sharp eyes assessed Solomon with the precision of a seasoned healer. "You look like you’ve been through hell," the doctor muttered.

Solomon smirked. "Something like that."

As the doctor worked on cleaning and stitching his wounds, Carlos spoke with his father in a corner. "I need your help, Papá. We can’t keep living like this. If we stand together—"

Alejandro sighed. "You speak of war. Do you know what you’re asking?"

"I know exactly what I’m asking," Carlos said firmly. "And I know exactly who we need to lead it." His eyes flicked to Solomon.

Meanwhile, back at Carlos’ home, Jamie sat with Maria and Rosa, who continued to cook while talking to her. The baby boy rested in Jamie’s lap, giggling as she made silly faces at him.

Isabella watched closely before tugging at Jamie’s sleeve. "Miss Jamie, are you really a hero too?"

Jamie hesitated before smiling softly. "I don’t know about that, little one. But I fight for the people I love."

Isabella seemed satisfied with that answer. "Then you're a hero to me."

At that moment, Carlos and Solomon returned. Carlos' expression was determined. "We have much to discuss after dinner. But first, we eat."

The small family gathered, breaking bread together. Laughter and conversation filled the air, but in the back of Solomon’s mind, he knew—this night was only a brief moment of peace before the storm.

The fight for the village had begun.

---

Meanwhile, at the SEALs' Forward Camp

Beth and David's reunion was filled with raw emotion. Beth clung to him as if afraid to let go, her tears soaking into his shoulder. David, usually so composed, let his own emotions slip as he held her tightly. The sight brought smiles to those watching—Sophia, the SEALs, and even Commander Jack—who knew how much this moment meant.

But one person’s smile faded.

Rebecca, standing just beyond the group, felt her breath hitch when David finally turned to introduce them. "This is my wife, Beth," he said, his voice steady, "and my sister, Sophia."

Rebecca’s chest tightened. Wife?

Her hands curled into fists at her sides as she stared at Beth. David had never mentioned a wife when they served together. Back then, he had been cold, distant—married only to the mission. If he had been single during their time in the SEALs, then that meant…

Beth came later.

Beth was the woman David had chosen after leaving the SEALs. After her.

The realization struck harder than she expected. So she’s the one who stole him from me.

Rebecca swallowed, keeping her expression blank, but a storm churned inside her. For years, she had convinced herself that David simply wasn’t the type to love, that the bond they shared in the field had been the only one he was capable of. And yet, here stood Beth—proof that he had moved on, proof that he had found something he never gave her.

Commander Jack’s sharp gaze flicked toward her, as if sensing the shift in her demeanor. But Rebecca refused to meet his eyes. She didn’t want pity. She didn’t want understanding.

Forcing her hands to relax, she took a slow breath, letting the mask of a smile settle back onto her face. But deep down, the thought remained—Beth took something that could have been mine.