Three days later.
The cemetery was on a cliffside overlooking the North Atlantic. It was a private plot, unmarked on any map, reserved for those who lived and died in the shadows.
Leo stood alone in front of a simple stone marker. There was no name on it. No rank. No dates. Only the stylized spear-tip of the V.N.S.O. and a single word carved in the base: SISTER.
Thorne, Vance, and Brick stood at a distance, their heads bowed. They were battered, bandaged, and weary, but they were alive.
Leo reached into his pocket and pulled out the old, faded photograph. He knelt down and buried it in the dirt at the foot of the stone.
"You did it, Maya," Leo whispered. "The Director is gone. Vane is dead. The Circle is broken."
He stood up, his face hardening. He looked out at the horizon where the sun was beginning to set. He knew the Circle wasn't truly gone—a hundred-year-old parasite doesn't die with one man. There would be others. New "Directors," new high-tech horrors.
Thorne walked up beside him, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. "The UN has declared us terrorists, Leo. Every agency in the world is looking for us. We have no funding, no base, and no law to protect us."
Leo looked at the Major. He looked at the heavy, "low-tech" pistol at his hip. He felt the weight of the Honor Code in his chest—the only thing that hadn't broken in the mountain.
"Good," Leo said. "It means they won't see us coming."
He turned away from the grave, walking toward the waiting transport.
"I'm Leo Miller," he said to the wind. "I am Vanguard. And I will fight no matter what."
THE END
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