Chapter 11

A/N: After quite some time, here is the replacement Chapter 11. Be warned that there's some strong M-rated content in this chapter. That said, I believe it's a well-written chapter and a solid continuation of this story.

It had been a perfect day out, especially for Portland at the end of summer 2011.

Carter had been out here all weekend, getting into the usual threesomes with Henry and Gwen while his best friend from Columbia, Connor Andrews-Davis, did some elaborate photoshoots of each of them. Some of it was modeling with even more designer clothing brands; some of it was not.

All three of them, plus Henry's brother Mark, were some of Tyler's favorites and around Premiere, Tyler always got what he wanted. The Board of Directors only cared about results, and with so many star models recruited personally by Tyler, he had plenty of that to speak of.

He'd even been allowing Carter to spend all the time he wanted with any of the girls or guys that caught his eye. A steady flow of action kept Carter in a good mood. His favorite had been appearing side-by-side with Henry in a swimsuit shoot a couple of weeks ago, followed immediately by a nude shoot on the same beach scene. Henry was just spectacular to look at. You really had to take a minute to stare, and wonder how he'd won the lottery of life this completely.

It took some getting used to, hanging out with Henry now that he was married with kids. Mark's kids and his own were paired up constantly, being raised as siblings despite being cousins.

While Carter and Henry were sitting by the poolside drinking a beer, Richard and Alex Evans showed up chasing their younger siblings Marcus and Brandon. Apparently, the goal was to hit the backs of their heads with a ball as hard as they could.

Henry seemed faintly amused by all of it, but after glancing at the back windows and seeing Gwen there, he called them off and made sure they switched to throwing the ball to each other. Marcus and Brandon, meanwhile, silently went back inside.

Now that I think about it, Carter realized, I've never heard them speak.

"Hey, man," Henry said in that iconic, charismatic baritone voice, hopping in beside Carter and leaning up against the poolside.

"Hey."

"So any thoughts?" Henry asked. He liked to start conversations this way. Just basic questions, you'd think, but he meant so much more. Henry was always several steps ahead, but always found time to be cooler and hotter than anybody.

Except Mark. No matter what, those two were side-by-side. The physiques and the lives they'd built were both equally awe-inspiring. Carter hadn't minded being an only child, but if he'd had a sibling, he would have wanted a brother like Mark.

"Thoughts?" Carter asked Henry in return.

"You've grown up so much, man, but you still don't have something I have."

"A huge fucking cock?" Carter asked with a wry grin.

"You've grown up there, too, but, not nearly as big as me. I just embarrass guys. It's not just you."

"Well, what am I missing? I'm doing great. Six-pack abs, a kickass modeling job." Carter shrugged his well-muscled shoulders. "I mean, I'm fucking loaded already and my parents are leaving me everything. What's missing, dude?"

"A wife."

"Huh-"

"Listen, Carter. We're four years apart, right?"

"Yeah."

"Your genes aren't as good as mine or Mark's but they're good." Henry locked eyes with him. "Good enough that you need to be thinking about marrying someone really fucking hot, and popping out at least a couple of kids. Good genes need to be passed on. You need to have kids if you care about that."

"Well- I mean, yeah, but- look, I get plenty as it is."

"Have you had any kids yet?"

"N-not that I know of."

"It's worth it, Carter. It's worth having some kids. I have a legacy now. I have my heirs. Mark has his. None of us are going to live forever, so we have our boys to carry our name for us. Our boys will have their own kids and our genes will keep going. Badasses like us need to think about that. Alphas have to think about that. Otherwise the world ends up with a bunch of little bitches. Like we don't have enough."

"Well, I can't just go marry some chick outta nowhere, I guess. Like- what about that?"

"How long have you been fucking Mark's second girlfriend from senior year?"

"Jessica?" Carter almost yelped. "How'd you-"

"How long?"

"Six months. We met when I was at Columbia. She works at this marketing place on Fifth Avenue now."

"I know all that. I also know you're sleeping around behind her back."

"With a couple people," Carter admitted. He shrugged and flashed one of his signature smiles. "I'm equal opportunity."

"That's all fine. You just better not get caught. And you'll need to make it official with somebody. If society made any fuckin' sense guys could just make some kids and go on with our lives, but marriage kinda makes shit easier. So why not Jessica?"

"No reason. I guess."

"You're worth it, Carter. Fuck someone hot and make some hot kids. It's that fucking easy."

"I want boys like you have," Carter said suddenly. "I want to teach them to be men. Like you."

"And Mark," Henry added pointedly.

"And Mark," Carter agreed.

"Don't fuck around with this shit, man. Jessica's gonna want a man and you're still having fun being a playboy."

"But you don't even care that I'm not just fuckin' Jessica."

"Men have needs, Carter, and for the real alphas, one isn't enough. The point is making it official with somebody. And kids. I've taught you a lot, but this is one more thing you gotta do. If Carter Stephens is a real man, that is."

"You fucking know I am."

"Not nearly as good as me."

"I fuck like a porn star. I know you and Gwen like me; you keep inviting me back."

Henry grinned. "Then marrying Jessica and popping out some kids should be easy, Carter. But if Mark and I don't get that wedding invite, we might just have to kill you."

"You'll get your invite." Carter sighed, looking up at the stars. "I guess I gotta go buy a big, shiny, expensive rock soon. I didn't know you cared that much about this shit, man. I've just been having fun."

"I'm thinking of the future, Carter. Every real man does."

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Andrew Cadiz held up his right hand to the afternoon sun, glancing at his marriage ring. White gold, and worth every dollar it had cost him. So was the bathing suit he was wearing, and the workouts he continued to do to look this good wearing it.

On the far end of the yacht's second stern deck, Mikey- "Mike" to virtually everyone but drew now- was pacing by the glass-and-wood railing, a cell phone held to his right ear.

He looks almost as good as me in that swimsuit, Andrew thought with a smile.

"That's cool, man; yeah, I'd say ask her next week. No, I haven't got any kids yet. That I know about. We are prime fucking breeding stock my friend; we're like prize bulls. I dunno, man; I'm almost done with Georgetown finally, I'll put a ring on some chick when I feel like it. You believe Mark's oldest is fucking twelve now? When I called to say what's up, let Mark know we're sailing back up to Portland, this little asshole asked me who was calling, like the whole world isn't about to know who Mike Cadiz is. Yeah, cuntface, it'll be good to see you again, too."

"My little brother," Andrew called out from his deck chair. "I can't believe how grown up he is."

Trying to glare behind his sunglasses, Mikey raised one well-muscled arm and flipped him the bird.

"Is that any way to show how much you love me?"

"Bite me, fuckface."

"Such ingratitude after those calls Dad and I made to ease the way into Georgetown for you."

Mikey sarcastically blew him a kiss instead, wandering over to the cooler to fish out another hard lemonade. He'd gotten hammered on them for his sixteenth birthday with Drew and Brian taking care of him and some of his friends, and had loved hard lemonade ever since.

Remembering that fun night hanging out with Brian D'Aramitz, the two of them caring for about a dozen drunk sixteen-year-olds, made Drew's smile fade a little. He still missed Brian.

The two of them had fought to earn the crown as Henry and Mike Evans' chosen successors, and the year they'd had to preside over the best football and hockey teams around the world had been a good one, even if not quite as good as the years the Evans brothers had delivered.

It had been such a waste, losing someone as badass as Brian D'Aramitz to a car crash. A complete waste.

At least Mikey was still here, happy, confident, fitter and stronger than ever. He'd grown up so much.

"Hey, DJ!" Mikey suddenly called out, all smiles again as Drew and Carla's boy, handsome little Andrew Junior, came running out on deck.

"Uncle Mike, Uncle Mike!" Drew Junior practically shouted. "Mom says we can eat out here for dinner!"

"She did? Well, that's awesome, just like you!" Mikey scooped up six-year-old DJ and spun around in a circle a few times, making the boy laugh with delight.

"Let's do that again," DJ giggled, when Mikey set him down and opened his hard lemonade again. "I like lemonade. Can I have some?"

"Woah, there, sport," Drew gently but firmly told his son, getting up from his deck chair. "What did Mom and I say about coolers on this deck?"

"They're for grown-ups."

"Yes. And you always listen to your Mom and me." Picking up little DJ, Drew smiled. This kid was so small, so full of life and energy. Carla had been three months pregnant with him when she and Drew had graduated college, and they'd made things work so well all through Drew's days at law school.

Now here he was, trying to set some kind of record for running all over this boat. Tiny legs or not, this little mop of reddish-brown hair wasn't going to be slowed down.

"Dad," Drew Junior asked, turning remarkably serious for a kid of his age, "I got a question."

"Oh, boy, questions," Mikey deadpanned, emptying one bottle and reaching for another.

"Hush now, Uncle Mike," Drew told him, drawing out his brother's favorite title. Mikey sketched out a salute in response, recognizing he needed to behave. Turning back to his son, Drew ruffled his reddish-brown hair and smiled. "So, what's your question?"

"Why's Mommy's tummy so big?"

"Oh, boy," Mikey whispered in the background, more to himself than anything. He knocked back most of the second hard lemonade. "Drew, I'm gonna have to-"

Andrew calmly held up a hand, then looked back at his son.

"You asked about this one before, DJ."

"Yeah, 'cause I wanna know."

"You'll learn about it when you get older. For right now, you've got a baby sister on the way."

"Well how come she's not here?"

"It takes time for new boys and girls to get here."

"Okay." DJ nodded. "How come you and Uncle Mike got such big muscles?"

"Because we're better," Mikey grinned, patting his six-pack abs as he walked over.

"That's what being a Cadiz is all about, being better. Better then we were yesterday, better than almost everyone else."

"Almost everyone?" DJ asked.

"Yes, everyone except a few people called Evans. Henry and Mark are the greatest men and the greatest athletes who ever lived, Drew."

"Dad, I thought you and Uncle Mike were the best ones."

"We're really good," Mikey laughed. "But Henry and Mark are even better."

"I'm gonna be better than that," DJ boasted, puffing out his little chest confidently.

"Just remember what your Dad told me once," Mikey said, handing DJ a can of plain old Minute Maid. "It's all about getting what you're after. Make sure you score."

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Keith had known this date would be a good one, and he'd been right. Of course he was. You didn't get to be a big shot at Chamberlain without playing Varsity Football or Varsity Hockey, and Keith had excelled at both since 10th grade.

Two whole years as a star had made asking his latest girlfriend out easy enough. Three previous dates had gone smoothly. Keith knew the right things to say, the right gifts to buy. His routine was practiced, rehearsed, and now he was in the back of his Range Rover, shirt discarded somewhere, Lauren Miller his only focus.

"Y'know," Lauren suggested around another kiss, "I think this should be a… clothes-optional car."

"I can help with that," Keith answered with a grin. He was just reaching to 'assist' with Lauren's shirt when the Range Rover abruptly rocked left to right, almost throwing the both of them around.

"What the-fuck?" Lauren gasped, looking around. "What- who did that?"

"I don't know," Keith growled, "but I'm gonna go and find out!" He lunged for a doorhandle and stumbled out. A pair of boys stood up from the back right corner, their hands marked with grime from the Range Rover's undercarriage.

"Oh, hey," the one with blond hair said. Like his friend, he was bare-chested, clad only in a pair of khaki shorts. He looked for all the world like a fitness model who just happened to also be attending middle school.

"Hi," Auburn added, like he hadn't just interrupted the best part of the date.

"Yeah, hey, hi, what's up?" Keith answered sarcastically. "You guys need any help? C'mere. C'mere, I wanna talk."

Keith swung as he got close, aiming to give Auburn a good black eye. The overgrown punks in middle school these days were all the same. One good punch and these two would go running for mom.

The aim was right. Keith knew what he was doing. He'd won plenty of fights before and could bench his own body weight.

Except it didn't work.

Not at all.

Auburn ducked, darted left and forward, his face a mask of fierce concentration. Keith barely had time to process this before he took a blow to the stomach. It felt like a fist of iron had hit him. Every ounce of air Keith had rushed out of him, and Blond moved in then, knocking Keith's head back with exactly the same kind of punch meant for his friend.

"Sonofabitch," Keith managed to gasp, forcing himself upright. He kicked once at Auburn, again at Blond, but the two just zipped out of the way, darting here and there. Each kept his fists up and ready, their expressions fixed but calm, like they did this all the time.

Keith was bigger, stronger, and just better. He knew he was. The last couple of middle school kids who'd tried messing with him had gone home with one of their skateboards broken and an old-man limp for each of them.

Somehow nothing was going right this time.

No.

Not this time.

Keith swung, blocked, kicked and dodged for all he was worth. It only bought him thirty seconds, maybe even a whole minute, before Blond shot forward and kicked him hard between the legs.

Staggering away, as confused as he was enraged, Keith realized he'd taken a harder blow to the nose at some point than he realized. His nose was bleeding all over the damn place, leaving drop after drop on the dry gravel-and-dirt road.

"Fuckers," he managed, lunging and swinging for Auburn again. The younger boy didn't even bother to block or dodge, even though he and Blond were each better at that than anyone Keith had ever seen.

No. Auburn just stood there, expression completely blank now. Looking like he was reading a book on tax law, he delivered a lightning-fast punch to Keith's throat that ended any chance he had of fighting back.

Look at them. They're not even breathing hard. I can barely stand. What's happening? Who are they?

Blond kicked him in the stomach then, and as Keith's spirit started to break, they started to smile. A little smirk that said this was nothing to them, nothing more than a game. It always had been. He'd never stood a chance.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

The fistfight seemed to go on forever. Finally Lauren couldn't take just sitting around any longer. She got out only to find Keith doubled over a couple feet from the Range Rover, gasping for air, blood running freely from his nose.

"Keith- what-what's going on?" she managed to ask.

That drew the two boys' attention her way. The one with the auburn hair turned, approached her, reached up and effortlessly pulled her down to eye level. One flex of the muscles in one arm, in one instant.

He kissed her.

It wasn't a kid's kiss, either; it was practiced, effortlessly skilled and passionate. Lauren managed a little yelp of surprise, but he just cupped a hand under her chin, tongue twirling around hers.

Then he let go.

"You can give it up or we can take it."

What?

"Uh?" Lauren managed. Keith was no help. He'd gone down on his knees, thoroughly beaten.

A steel hand grabbed her chin and forced her to look back. A pair of cold blue eyes locked with hers.

"You heard me. What do you say?"

Lauren started to be more than just afraid. From somewhere in her mind, she felt a rumor of fear too great to comprehend. These weren't normal kids. Normal kids didn't look like they'd been lifting for ten years at age, what, twelve? Fourteen? Normal kids didn't beat up Keith like he hadn't been actually lifting for ten years.

Rape. They were going to rape her. That's why they'd interrupted the action, that's why they'd beaten up Keith. They needed him out of the way.

"Uh-g-guys, h-hey, w-w-we don't have-"

"Give it up. Or we take it."

Lauren stood there stunned, looking between Auburn and Blond. She was a good runner, but these two looked like sprinters. Good sprinters. Lauren trained for distance. And if she tried it and failed…

No phone option, either. The phones had been left up front when she and Keith had gone to fuck in the backseat.

Oh, nonononono. Nonono.

Lauren pulled her shirt over her head before she even consciously made a decision. Auburn had been reaching for her, visibly out of patience, and Blond had been moving in, but they stopped and stared as Lauren dropped her shirt and unclasped her bra.

"No, you dumb bitch," Auburn told her suddenly; he slung an arm around her waist and threw her toward the SUV. "In there! Not out here."

"I just- okay. Okay." Whatever they want. Do whatever they want. At least it'll be over faster that way. It was the only consolation she could think of.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Once Lauren decided she was going to lie back and cooperate, it wasn't so bad. You weren't powerless and afraid if you wanted this, if you liked having two boys take turns with you while Keith just stayed outside and did nothing.

Eventually, she got dressed again, calmly agreed to the promise that they'd find and kill her if she told anyone, ever, and then watched while Auburn and Blond pulled their khaki shorts back on, mounted their bikes, and pedaled away.

Keith finally showed up when Lauren was sitting in the front passenger seat, staring at her hands, thinking about how none of this was really so bad, not so bad at all.

"Are you okay?" Keith asked, staring at her wearily with his one good eye. The other was bruised enough now that it'd probably be closed for the day tomorrow.

"I'm fine."

"I'm sorry." Keith's voice broke a little as he said it. "I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," Lauren told him in that same calm, level voice. "I'd like to go home now."

"They said we can't tell anyone."

"Nope."

"I would've kicked their asses-"

But you didn't.

"Keith, it's fine," Lauren told him, turning to look his way. "Now, let's go. I wanna go home."

That was the last either of them spoke for the rest of their much-altered date. One of them had even done what they'd planned. It wasn't so bad.

Not at all.

ΩΩΩΩΩ

Julie was amazed sometimes at how easily things went these days. The house was long since paid off, the boys had everything they could ever want, she and Mark had everything they could ever want.

It wasn't the best feeling, knowing that it was Mark's career and family money that had brought most of this, but a career in the public school system was not known for letting you pay off a Mercedes M-Class SUV the same day you visited the dealership.

Henry had insisted on driving that one over to Whole Foods today, saying something about the diesel engine "not sounding quite right" and then on driving it back, too. Given that Mark always had to drive, and always had the same endless series of eloquent excuses, Julie had mentally noted it as an ego thing and just let it be.

Watching Henry carry every last bag inside like it all weighed nothing- and to him it probably did- was kind of fun, though. So was being around Henry in general. His parents had said once that Henry had struggled with friendships and socializing as a kid, but all that had changed after he'd teamed up with Mark.

That's two lives he's changed, Julie thought, Two at least that he's made better and better.

"So you want me to just drop all this anywhere?" Henry asked casually, holding up the numerous bags by his shoulders, which looked like they needed to have little clouds hovering near them. Like his brother, Henry towered over others and loved making jokes about that, or about his immense strength.

Like Mark, Henry sometimes gave you the impression he hadn't fully grown up, but at the same time he'd grown up a long time ago in the ways that really mattered.

"Henry, we talked about this," Julie chided him, trying not to laugh. "The island counter will do fine."

"I feel like I could really hold 'em up like this a while longer though," Henry commented, raising and lowering both arms a few times for emphasis.

"Yes, you probably could, but then I wouldn't be able to put them away so the cold things can stay cold."

"See, it's that scientific mind again," Henry responded with a grin, setting the bags down on the counter. "I knew you weren't getting that doctorate for nothing."

"It's still another year at least before I finish the dissertation. We talked about this, too."

"Sure we did. You know how much I hear about it from Mark? Sometimes it's all he talks about." Henry lifted every one of the packets of raw beef up and set them all in the fridge in one go. It was next to impossible keeping so many hungry guys well-fed when they seemed to need more protein in a day than Julie did in a year, but, she'd known since Mark and Henry were seniors that they weren't your average guys.

Small surprise that their sons were no different. Rambunctious, obsessed with fitness, and off-the-charts handsome and brilliant. A rare combination.

"I know he's proud," Julie answered, trying to put at least a few things away herself. "I think he should go for one himself. If he ever found time between modeling and the Marines to go past a Master's." Julie gave Henry a pointed look. "Same goes for you, now that I think about it."

"It'd be fun," Henry allowed, "but I don't want another hour away from Gwen and the boys. A year in Iraq, a year in Afghanistan. And we got Tyler on our case every other week. Sometimes I don't know why we bought two houses side-by-side here in Portland; we're in New York half the time."

"You did that because you and Mark wanted to, and you said so every chance you got for a couple years-"

"Until you and Mark got to make things official."

"Yeah. Well." Julie cleared her throat, trying to think of something else to say. She wasn't ashamed that two people destined for each other, a perfect match down to their very souls, had met at an unusual time and had needed to make things work. She wasn't ashamed that she and Mark loved each other and always would.

But it still made her wince sometimes, remembering that Mark had been one of her students once.

"Hey," Henry said gently, instantly noticing the change in the room. "It's fine. You two couldn't change how it had to be."

"I know. You know how much Mark and I appreciate all the ways you helped us. That was a tough year."

"You kept Mark sane. We had two teams to lead and what felt like a billion freshmen expecting us to train them, teach 'em everything about football and hockey."

Julie laughed. "I bet they had a lot of questions."

"Oh, yeah." Henry nodded. "We treated 'em the best we could, but there just never seemed to be enough time or enough of us. We even had the other seniors looking to us all the time, so, of course the freshmen did the same thing."

The last of the groceries put away, Julie paused and looked at Henry. "I'm sure you know how much of a difference you two made. Boys at Chamberlain still talk about you all the time."

"Of course they do," Henry said, shifting his feet further apart and drawing himself up to his impressive height. "Mark and I play better than anyone."

"At least one of you's also a big help with gardening, while two of the boys are out biking, and the other two are with Mark and Gwen while they pick out a whole gym for the penthouse."

Henry frowned in mock confusion. "So… I think you're referring to somebody…"

"Yes, I am, Henry. Now-"

"WHOO!" Alex practically screamed, bounding in the front door and shoving both fists in the air. "I'm a man now! I'm a MAN!"

"I'm a man! Nobody can stop me!" Richard shouted, landing beside him and taking the same triumphant pose.

One look down the front hall told Julie all she needed to know. Bare-chested, sweaty, and looking thoroughly pleased with themselves. Alex had been born prematurely, a tiny and fragile infant fighting just to live. He'd done it so well over just his first couple of days that even the doctors had been astounded. Small wonder that her twelve-year-old son looked almost fourteen, decked out in well-toned muscle, sporting a suntan and stylishly-cut auburn hair.

"Alex, Richard, I'm glad you've decided to announce you're men now, but you're also supposed to take your shoes off when you come inside. Especially after riding your bikes all over town as usual."

"Mom," Alex huffed. "I'm basically grown up. Uncle Henry! I'm a man now!"

"Nice," Henry agreed as he and Julie approached the two. The boys raised their hands, and each met Henry with an exuberant high-five that sounded like it would've hurt anybody else. "If you two are men now, then you can tell me and Mark about it all you want. Later."

"Just the boys, Dad," Richard agreed, smacking Henry's offered palm again. "Just the men."

"Richard. I thought we'd agreed you and Alex also had to wear shirts when you come inside either house."

"Aunt Julie," Richard groaned, sounding like he thought she was about two thousand years old. "I'm growing up, and I gotta show off! We both do."

"Otherwise we don't get any girls," Alex added. "Dad told us to show off how much we work out." Alex brought his arms forward, flexing his arms, shoulders and chest impressively. It was far more than Julie had expected from a kid of twelve, but Alex and Richard had launched into fitness with a passion.

Nothing could have made Julie happier or prouder at the end of the day, not with how well she remembered the difficult birth and the tiny infant that struggled just to breathe. It was a gift every time Alex did something silly and egotistical like this. He deserved to feel like he was on top of the world, him and Richard both. Richard, also conceived when dad was a high school senior, bor[n to a mother missing for so many years now, a mother he never got to know.

So Julie looked at Henry, who shrugged his massive shoulders, and she shrugged herself. "Okay, boys, but you can only keep your shirts off if you go right upstairs and take showers. And you still gotta take your shoes off before you track more dirt inside."

"Moooom," Alex sighed, sounding so much like the middle schooler he would soon be. He huffed again, then grinned and exchanged a high-five with Richard. The two yanked their shoes off, managing to make even more of a mess of the foyer as they kicked the jumbled shoes aside and darted upstairs.

"Boys," Henry said matter-of-factly.

"And of course they left their bikes out on the lawn," Julie said with a glance past the storm door.

"It's a lot of fun having them around, though, isn't it?"

"Oh, of course, Henry. Now, can I get your help getting those two outside to help with the gardening? You can all catch up on your Guy Time later."

"Sure, Julie." Henry raised his voice. "Boys! Hurry up and shower, time to help with some gardening outside!" He then yanked his own shirt over his head, revealing a physique just as youthful and stunning as eleven years ago.

Julie felt her face heating up; Henry shared every bit of his brother's extraordinary good looks, and getting reminded of that this vividly, standing two feet from him, was complicated at best.

"Sorry," Henry said with a shrug, not sounding too sorry at all. "I gotta set an example for the boys. Especially while Mark's away. Otherwise they'll actually run wild."

"Oh, you mean this is the tame version? They're acting like they just discovered girlfriends."

"Hey, maybe they did meet a girl today." Henry considered. "They might even know girls don't have cooties."

Ever the gentleman, Henry held the door open as Julie laughed appreciatively. Wonder of wonders, Alex and Richard even joined them after only fifteen minutes in their respective favorite hallway showers. Chattering away at Henry and Julie, the two did indeed seem to have figured out that girls were interesting, of all things.

Mark's gonna be thrilled when he gets home. Alex and Richard rode around Portland and discovered girls. They grow up so fast.

A/N: 11 May 2024.

Originally, Chapter 11 was written depicting a fictional second conflict breaking out in Korea, with Henry and Mark ending up among the vanguard of the US-South Korean counteroffensive into North Korea. This was contemplated for years between myself and AM83220 as a possible way to depict Henry and Mark eventually falling from grace.

That next step in the story was based on it merging into a crossover with the 2006 video game Splinter Cell: Double Agent. Henry and Mark would have gone on trial for a horrific war crime they committed together during the advance into Pyongyang, North Korea's capital, and then escaped from prison at the same time that Sam Fisher did under his assumed identity. All three would then end up in "John Brown's Army" together, with the remainder of the story following the Double Agent storyline.

After around 9 years of that idea for Henry and Mark's latest story hanging around, I suggested dropping it in favor of something else. AM83220 agreed and we are still working out the details.

Lots of this replacement Chapter 11 was written after some back-and-forth with AM83220. Carter Stephens returning to the story, Henry and Julie getting along, the Cadiz brothers also returning to the story. The segment with the Cadiz brothers was fun to write. Even though neither Andrew Cadiz nor his brother Michael are nearly as nice as they think they are, they love each other and have always strongly supported each other. Not unlike the way that Henry and Mark love one another, as much as they lie to everyone else.

The segment with Julie's POV, depicting how her and Henry get along and what she thinks of him, was interesting to write. AM83220 pointed out that we scarcely ever saw any indication of what Julie thought of Henry despite her romance with Mark through Henry and Mark's 12th grade year. That was an omission that unfortunately neither of us caught at the time, but maybe I can go back and edit something in to "The Good Sons" eventually. In the meantime, that part of this chapter is intended to correct that oversight.

Reviews and PM's are always welcome.