"Lock the doors!" Rick screamed, his voice cutting through the panic. "Nobody leaves until I say so!"
Rick nodded, but his attention was already drifting toward a woman in a white dress sitting ringside. She looked out of place—too calm, too elegant for the sweat and blood of a boxing ring. Before he could make a move, the bell rang.
The two men stood at opposite ends of the hallway, a mirror of their younger selves. Rick looked down at the dice he always carried in his pocket. He thought about his father's words: When your luck runs out, all you've got left is Snake Eyes. Snake Eyes
As Rick dug deeper, the evidence pointed toward the one person he trusted: Kevin.
Inside the arena, the crowd roared. It was the heavyweight title fight—the kind of night where legends were made or broken. Rick was in his element, shaking hands and flashing a badge that carried more weight than his paycheck ever did. He spotted Kevin Dunne, his old friend and a high-ranking Navy Commander, standing guard near the Secretary of Defense. "Lock the doors
"You were my brother, Kev," Rick said, his voice unusually quiet.
As the sun began to rise over the Atlantic, Rick stood on the boardwalk, watching the waves crash against the pylons. He was no longer the golden boy of the department. He was just a man with a ruined career and a clear conscience. Before he could make a move, the bell rang
The Secretary of Defense slumped forward. The arena erupted into chaos.