CHAPTER THREE:A Line in the Sand

The city of Bangkok was a sprawling, chaotic maze of narrow streets, bustling markets, and towering skyscrapers. It was a place where anonymity was easy to find, where a man could disappear into the throngs of people and never be seen again. But for Ethan Cole, it was also a place full of dangers, where every shadow could hide an enemy, and every glance could be a threat.

He moved through the crowded streets with purpose, keeping his head down and his movements quick. His face was partially obscured by the brim of a worn baseball cap, and he wore a faded jacket that had seen better days. He had swapped the jungle for the concrete jungle, and the transition had been jarring. But the mission was the same: survive, gather intel, and find a way home.

Ethan's journey to Bangkok had been a blur of bribes, forged documents, and risky encounters with people who had more interest in money than in ethics. It had taken all of his skills to make it this far, and he knew that one mistake could cost him everything. The city was a haven for mercenaries, spies, and criminals—exactly the kind of people who would sell him out in a heartbeat if they knew who he was.

He checked his watch. It was just after noon, and the heat was oppressive, the air thick with humidity. He had arranged to meet a contact in a small, rundown café on the outskirts of the city. The man was a former CIA operative who had gone rogue years ago, choosing a life in the shadows over the rigid structure of the Agency. His name was Ray Donovan, and if anyone could help Ethan navigate the treacherous waters ahead, it was him.

The café was a dimly lit hole-in-the-wall, tucked away in an alley that reeked of garbage and diesel fumes. Ethan pushed open the door, his eyes adjusting to the gloom as he stepped inside. The place was nearly empty, save for a few locals nursing their drinks in the corners. The hum of an old ceiling fan did little to alleviate the heat.

At a table near the back, a man in his late fifties sat hunched over a cup of coffee, his graying hair slicked back and his sharp eyes scanning the room. Ethan recognized him immediately—Ray Donovan had the look of a man who had seen too much and trusted too little. He was exactly the kind of ally Ethan needed right now.

Ethan approached the table cautiously, his every sense on high alert. "Donovan?" he asked quietly, his voice low.

Donovan looked up, his expression unreadable. "You're late," he said, gesturing for Ethan to sit.

"Had to make sure I wasn't followed," Ethan replied as he slid into the chair opposite Donovan.

"Smart," Donovan acknowledged. He took a sip of his coffee before leaning in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. "You've stirred up quite the hornet's nest, Cole. The word is out—they're gunning for you."

Ethan nodded grimly. "I figured as much. That's why I'm here. I need your help to get back to the States—and I need to know who's pulling the strings."

Donovan studied him for a moment, his eyes narrowing. "You're in deep, kid. Deeper than you even realize. What makes you think you can take them on? These aren't just some pencil pushers at the Pentagon. We're talking about people who can make you disappear without a trace."

"I don't have a choice," Ethan said, his voice steady. "They killed my team, branded me a traitor, and left me to die. I'm not just going to roll over and let them win. I need to find out who did this and why. And then I'm going to bring them down."

Donovan let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. But guts aren't going to be enough. You're going to need resources, contacts, and a hell of a lot of luck."

"Can you help me or not?" Ethan asked, his patience wearing thin. He didn't have time for games.

Donovan's expression hardened. "I can help you, but it's going to cost you. And I don't mean money. I'm talking about favors, information—things that might put you in even more danger. Are you willing to risk that?"

Ethan met Donovan's gaze without flinching. "I've already lost everything that matters. I'll do whatever it takes."

Donovan nodded slowly, as if weighing Ethan's resolve. After a long pause, he leaned back in his chair, a decision made. "All right. I'll get you what you need. But once you start down this path, there's no turning back. You'll be going up against some of the most powerful people in the world. They won't hesitate to kill you—and anyone who gets in their way."

"I understand," Ethan said, his voice firm. "But I'm not going down without a fight."

"Good," Donovan replied, a hint of respect in his tone. "Here's the deal. I'll arrange for you to get out of Bangkok and back to the States. But once you're there, you're on your own. I can point you in the right direction, give you some names to start with, but the rest is up to you. If you're lucky, you'll find the answers you're looking for. If you're not... well, you know the risks."

"Where do I start?" Ethan asked, leaning forward.

Donovan reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, unmarked envelope, sliding it across the table. "In there, you'll find the names of a few people who might know something—journalists, ex-military, a couple of disgruntled insiders. They're not exactly friendly, but they have their own grudges against the powers that be. If anyone can help you piece this puzzle together, it's them."

Ethan took the envelope, feeling the weight of the task ahead settle on his shoulders. "Thank you," he said, his gratitude genuine.

"Don't thank me yet," Donovan replied, a warning in his voice. "This is just the beginning. The people you're after—they don't play by the rules. And neither should you."

Ethan nodded, understanding the gravity of Donovan's words. He was stepping into a world of shadows, where the line between right and wrong was blurred beyond recognition. But he had no other choice. He had to find the truth, no matter what it cost him.

As Ethan rose to leave, Donovan reached out and grabbed his arm, his grip firm. "One more thing, Cole. Trust no one. Not even the people I've pointed you to. Everyone has an agenda, and most of them aren't in your favor."

Ethan looked down at Donovan's hand, then back up at his face. "I'll keep that in mind," he said, pulling his arm free.

With that, Ethan turned and left the café, the envelope tucked securely in his jacket. The sun was setting over the city, casting long shadows across the streets. He had a long journey ahead of him, one filled with danger and uncertainty. But as he stepped out into the fading light, Ethan knew one thing for sure.

The fight for the truth had begun, and he wasn't going to stop until the real traitors were exposed.

As he disappeared into the crowd, blending into the throng of people that filled the streets, Ethan's mind was already racing ahead, planning his next move. The Forgotten Soldier was coming home, and he was ready to bring the war to those who had betrayed him.