Minutes dragged. The biker lingered, waiting for fear, for surrender but the veteran gave none.

Then the door slammed open once more. A tall man strode in, gray hair framing a face etched by years. His long leather coat brushed his boots with each step.

“You picking fi:ghts with a veteran?” his voice cut through the silence. “You should know he isn’t alone.”

He turned, offering the old man a reassuring nod. “This soldier trained men like me. And here’s the lesson, son – respect is earned, never taken.”

The biker faltered, retreating a step, while the diner sat frozen, watching.