Tobias listened without interrupting, his bored expression back on his face. He sounded casual when he interjected with, “Sure, Noah tried to stop it. Until he cracked Gemma’s head open.”
Lowenna’s head shot to him so quickly, Noah stumbled backwards.
“What?” he croaked. “I just…”
“You just pushed her over so hard you made her head bleed.”
Guilt coursed through his veins. Was Tobias telling the truth? Noah replayed the event in his head, but he’d been so focussed on Zeke and Frankie…
“You’re forgetting that Osborne had just absolutely decked Bates,”—Krish glanced at Lowenna—“you know, the little scrawny one? When he was only trying to drag Frankie away from Osborne. It’s clear to me that Forrest’s behaviour was justified, ma’am.”
“You know what’s clear to me?” said Tobias, the odd tone of his voice shooting fear into Noah’s veins. “That Forrest lost his shit as soon as Bates got involved. I think it’sclear—”
“Enough.”
Lowenna turned away from them all, staring out of the broken window into the black abyss of the night. “This either never happened, or it did. If it did, I will write up every member of your squads even remotely involved. Including you, Newman. If you’d just have disciplined your two men in the first place when Habib reported it to you, we could have avoided all of this. So, I’ll ask you once: did this happen?”
“Didn’t happen,” mumbled Noah, while Tobias grunted.
Sighing as if this horrendous day would never end, Lowenna said, “Dismissed. Forrest, stay here. You’re helping me change the duty rota.”
Krish squeezed his shoulder on the way out, hissing, “I’ll go check on him.”
Noah’s cheeks warmed. How many others had noticed his affection towards Zeke?
As soon as they were alone, Lowenna turned on him. “Jesus, Noah, what were you thinking? Now really isn’t the time to be putting a single toe out of line, what with our covert operation and all.”
“Ourcovert operation?” he cried. “I never agreed to be a part of this!”
“Well, tough luck,” Lowenna snapped, eyes blazing. “It’s time to get down to business.” From her pocket, she pulled out a large, chunky wristband, an older-style civilian model. “Krish has transferred all the image files to this via an undetectable direct transfer. I’m about to send them to Leonie Voigt. We’ll need to do the same tomorrow with whatever we find at the farm.” Her face softened slightly. “Did Leonie tell you what we’re likely to find there?”
He nodded. “I hope you realise the effect the mass panic will have if those documents get released. How many civilians will die because of it?”
“If we don’t do something, everyone will be dead anyway.” Lowenna didn’t return his hostility; she sounded sad, defeated even. “Believe me, Noah, this was a last resort. But the government and the military are refusing to take appropriate action. They’re burying their heads in the sand.”
He couldn’t deal with this right now. “I’m going back downstairs.” Noah started towards the door, but Lowenna caught his arm.
“Wait. Be careful of Newman. I wouldn’t trust my worst enemy with him.”
Snorting, Noah said, “He literally is my worst enemy, so…” He shook his head on the way to the exit. In the doorway, he turned back to say, “Gracie Bellows. I can’t stop thinking that if we never went off-piste to the graveyard, she would still be—”
Lowenna crossed the small space and gripped both of his arms with hers. “Listen to me carefully. Gracie is my burden to bear, and mine alone. You have nothing—nothing—to feel guilty about.”
But Lowenna’s words did little to comfort him as he travelled down the spiral staircase to find two soldiers of Squad K sprawled in the hallway, their arms wrapped around each other as they sobbed.
As he studied them, Noah’s old friend emerged to sit heavily on his shoulders, bringing with it its familiar visceral, heart-wrenching ache.
Grief. His most faithful companion. His darkest shadow on the brightest days.
thirty-two
Zeke
Atbreakfastthenextmorning, Zeke’s eyes drooped. He’d finally nodded off to sleep at around midnight—thanks to less than comfortable sleeping conditions on his rock-solid pew—before waking up at three a.m. for his watch-duty shift. Alarmingly, Noah was still awake. He’d been staring out the window when Zeke risked quickly kissing him on the forehead amongst the sea of snoring bodies. Noah gave him the smallest of smiles before promising he’d go to sleep in a minute.
He’d spent his entire night shift brooding over his reaction towards Noah’s proposition of sailing off into the sunset with him. He fluctuated between waves of intense guilt—his mind replaying Noah’s awful, devastated expression—and irritation. Because Noah’s plan was ludicrous. Nothing could be more stupid than attempting to cross an ocean in midwinter in a boat neither of them knew how to pilot.
A warm body slid down onto the bench next to him, thigh pressed against his.
