They Called Asher a Fallen War Hero... Biggest Mistake Ever

08: Men Behind The Curtain

The Bennett Group headquarters, for the first time in years, felt like a sinking ship. The reception area, once crowded with clients and investors, was almost empty.

Employees whispered among themselves about the loss of historic contracts. A big hit so far that questions have been raised on the sustainability of the establishment.

Some of the staff members quietly updated their résumés for openings in other firms while others refreshed their email inboxes every few minutes, hoping for good news that never came.

Apparently, inside the boardroom. Elaine Bennett slammed a folder onto the table, her voice cold as ice: "There has to be a mistake!"

She glared at every executive present: "Three investors don't withdraw on the same day without a reason. It hardly happens!"

One director cleared his throat and leaned a little further: "We've contacted all of them. They all gave the same answer."

Elaine’s throat tightened: "What answer?"

The man hesitated: "They said… they're no longer interested."

Elaine sneered, her face reddened: "That's impossible! Someone is interfering!"

Silence.

No one dared respond because deep down, they were beginning to think the same thing.

Meanwhile, Serena sat quietly at the end of the table. She hadn't spoken once during the meeting.

Instead, she studied the reports in front of her, and nothing was adding up. The project had been profitable and promising with clean financial reports. Every legal document had been approved despite the risks they foresaw.

Yet overnight, everything had fallen apart. Her phone vibrated: a photograph filled the screen.

Lily stood in the garden, smiling as she watered the little sunflower, and for the first time that morning, Serena smiled.

Then she noticed something: the flower had grown taller. She remembered Asher's words:

"Sunflowers never forget where the light is."

She mused with a labored breath: ‘Asher, where really are you?’

****

Miles away, the old estate was calm. Retired veterans played chess beside a large oak tree. Doctors from the estate's medical foundation discussed charity projects over tea.

Everything appeared peaceful.

Until an intelligence officer hurried into the operations room.

His breathing was unstable

"General Hale. We've got something."

General Hale looked up immediately: “Shot. I'm all ears”

Immediately, the officer connected a tablet to the large display. A map appeared with red dots flashing across three different provinces in the Northern region and the Eastern port.

"We've been tracking a series of shell companies. They've spent the last six months purchasing military-grade communications equipment."

Another screen appeared with encrypted payment records. It had false company registrations.

Abandoned warehouses, none of which made sense on their own, painted a disturbing picture.

General Hale frowned: "Smugglers?"

The officer shook his head: "No." He cleared his throat: "They're too organized."

At that moment, the door creaked open. Asher walked in, and the room felt his presence.

General Hale handed him the tablet: "We've confirmed unusual activity."

Asher studied the files without saying a word. He zoomed in on one warehouse in Eastern port

Then, finally, he looked at the map. His finger traced an invisible line connecting every location.

General Hale watched him carefully: "What do you see?"

Asher answered without overthinking: "Not supply routes."

Everyone exchanged eye contact and returned their gaze to him.

Asher noticed their attention was back and resumed: "They're building corridors."

One analyst looked confused: "For… what?"

Asher tapped the final location: "Movement. They seem fast and undetected.”

General Hale's expression changed: "You've seen this before?"

He nodded: "In another country. They built the same pattern before launching coordinated attacks."

The space went cold and quiet. No one questioned him; his battlefield instincts were unmatched. General Hale immediately turned toward the communications officer.

"Increase surveillance. I want every warehouse to be watched."

"Yes, sir!"

The officer rushed out.

****

Simultaneously, elsewhere, in the penthouse of an unfinished skyscraper. A single television played silently.

The screen showed business news. Another investor had withdrawn from the Bennett Group.

A man dressed in black watched without expression. Someone entered behind him.

"Our observers have confirmed it. He met his daughter again yesterday."

The man didn't respond but pressed a button. A large monitor lit up, which contained security footage, satellite images, and military records. Every screen displayed the same name.

ASHER RIVER.

The visitor spoke carefully: "Should we proceed?"

The man’s lips curved with mischief: "A soldier can be discharged. A leader cannot."

He switched off every screen except one: a photograph of Asher standing outside Bright Oaks Elementary.

"He hasn't changed."

The visitor frowned: "Then… Do we eliminate him now?"

The man slowly shook his head: "No. If he were that easy to kill… He would've died years ago."

He walked toward the minibar stand and filled a glass with a scotch: "After the dishonorable discharge, the lion has awakened. So let him hunt."

His smile slowly disappeared: "We'll see whether age has affected his instincts."

****

Back at the estate, a secure terminal buzzed a sharp beep. An encrypted transmission had just arrived. Only three people in the country possessed the authorization to send it.

General Hale opened the message, his face immediately hardening: "Young Heir." He handed over the tablet: "A government convoy changed its route thirty minutes ago. They didn't notify the military command."

Asher's eyes searched the route once. Then again, his calm expression slowly vanished.

Only for a second.

It was enough for General Hale to notice: "What is it?"

Asher enlarged the map, his finger stopped at a narrow mountain pass: "There."

General Hale looked closely: "I don't see anything."

"You won't 'cause they did well in making it undetected." Asher's voice was low: "That's why they chose it." He looked up: "It's the only stretch without aerial surveillance, and the only place where communications can be jammed."

General Hale’s eyes twitched as he slowly understood: "This isn't an accident..."

Asher was already reaching for his jacket: "It's an ambush."

Within seconds, the quiet estate that had looked like a peaceful retirement home burst into motion.

Vehicles started, and encrypted radios came alive. Men and women who looked like ordinary retirees moved with detailed attention like elite professionals.

The game had changed, and for the first time since the young heir returned, Asher River was stepping onto the board.