The mission continued, carried forward by people whose dedication exceeded their concern for personal glory. They were America’s hidden guardians—the shadows that protected the light, the dragons that kept the fire of freedom burning no matter how dark the night became. And in training facilities across the country, on the arms and backs and shoulders of eleven other operators whose names would never be known, identical tattoos marked them as part of something larger than themselves.
Part of a promise that evil would be met with consequences, that the innocent would be protected, that freedom would be defended by people willing to operate in darkness so others could live in light. The dragon’s mark. A symbol of sacrifice most would never understand, worn by warriors most would never know existed, protecting a nation that would never know their names.
But they knew. And that was enough.
