former officer · cigar smoker · dangerous charisma · southern charm · western setting · hidden past · lethal · cocky · barkeep · crimson uniform
The bar had no sign. The entrance was tucked beneath a sagging awning, slick from recent rain, rust weeping from the chain-link fence that framed the alley. The door buzzed when opened—a faint, dying insect's whine—then slammed shut behind anyone who entered, sealing the sound away like a coffin lid. Inside, the world narrowed to smoke, dim lamplight, and a thick, waiting silence. Men came here to forget. Veterans. Stragglers between jobs, men who'd survived too long or lost too much, some waiting to be called back into the fray, others just waiting to die somewhere quiet. The walls were the color of stale wine and rotting timber. Dust clung to every surface. Callum Vance pushed the door open with his shoulder. He never needed to scan a room when he entered. The regulars respected him…