He grins. “Fair point.”
I take a bite, trying to ignore the gritty texture.Please just be sand.When the door opens, I instinctually look up and nearly choke on the food in my mouth. A group of men—four of them—stride toward the counter. Their uniforms are the same sand-colored camouflage fatigues everyone wears. The one in front moves with the same rigid authority and stuffy gait I saw in the village. He turns slightly, and I get a clear view of his face. I freeze with my fork halfway to my mouth. My throat locks.
Jagger glances up at me, his brow furrowing. “What’s wrong?” he asks firmly, but quietly.
I lower my fork slowly, forcing a steady breath before whispering. “That’shim.”
“Him, who?”
“The man from the village.”
He blinks, subtly following my gaze. “Which one?”
“The one in front,” I whisper. “Gray stubble, with a scar over his left eyebrow. I saw him. He was there when they carried the woman.”
Jagger leans back, coyly studying the group. “You sure about that?”
“Positive.” My voice shakes despite my confidence in my answer. “He was the one giving orders. He saw me before they opened fire.”
He studies the man again, skepticism flickering in his eyes. “Could just look like him. You’ve had one hell of a few days, Reese. Your brain might be?—”
“Don’t finish that sentence.”
He sighs, scrubbing at his jaw. “All right, all right. No need to bite my head off.” The men move toward thefar table, laughing and carrying trays. Jagger’s tone softens. “If you’re sure—really sure—we should get out of here. Quietly and without drawing attention to ourselves.”
I nod, my heart pounding so hard it feels like it’s shaking my ribs. We leave our trays half-full and slip out through the side door. We walk briskly, not stopping until we reach the tent. Adrenaline still thrums under my skin as I drop to my knees beside my cot, pulling my laptop from my pack. Jagger hovers behind me, his presence solid but uncertain. “What are you looking for?”
“Proof.” I lay it on my cot, flip it open, and my fingers fly over the keyboard. The screen lights up, displaying the same images I shared with them yesterday. I scroll past shots of crumbling walls and rooftops, my heart hammering faster with each frame. And then I find it: Two men carrying the limp, bloodied woman through the street, her arm dangling lifelessly, and their uniforms all dust streaked. “There.” I zoom in until the pixels sharpen just enough. The same face. The same scar. Same shape of his jaw. “That’s him.”
Jagger leans closer, his voice low. “Shit.”
“You believe me now?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Just stares at the screen, then glances toward the entrance of the tent like he expects someone to walk in. “Yeah,” he says finally. “Yeah, I believe you.”
“Good,” I mutter, though it doesn’t feel good. It feels like a noose tightening around my neck.
The tent flap rustles, and Hawk strides in, hair damp, shirtsticking to his shoulders. Damon and Gunnar follow immediately behind him, looking cleaner but just as tired.
Hawk stops short when he sees us huddled over the laptop. His eyes flick from me to the screen. “What’s going on?”
Jagger looks at me, giving a small nod, urging me to answer. I take a breath, steadying my voice. “We saw him.”
“Who?”
“The man from the village. The one carrying the woman.”
Hawk moves closer, leaning over me and planting his hands on opposite sides of the laptop as he looks at the photo. His shirt brushes against the back of my neck, and the scent of his soap floods my nostrils. “You’re sure?”
“Positive,” I insist. “We saw him in the chow hall not more than twenty minutes ago.”
Gunnar frowns. “You think he’s stationed here?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “But if he is, whatever happened out there wasn’t a random operation.”
Jagger shifts his weight, glancing up from the zoomed-in image. “She’s right, Hawk. That’s the same guy. I’d bet on it.”
For a long moment, Hawk doesn’t speak. He keeps his eyes fixed on the screen, his jaw tight and eyes unreadable. The silence stretches for suffocating long seconds. Finally, he straightens. “Sunrise tomorrow,” he shares, his voice low but certain. “We head back. See what we missed.”
