Page 83 of Backlash

“Prove what?”

“Jack discovered that our lieutenant was smuggling the guns, even running drugs.”

She stares at me, mouth wide. “Wait, what?”

“Yep, so we had a dilemma. We could try to turn him in and hope someone higher up believed us. But we also knew he couldn’t be doing it alone, so we had no clue who to tell. You have no idea how seriously the military takes breaking the chain of command, on any pretext. Plus, it’s not exactly easy to get messages past your commanding officer when you’re in the middle of a war theater.”

“So what did you do?”

“We decided to steal the next shipment,” I say with a shrug. Adair gasps, and I can tell what she thinks of this plan already. “It would be proof, and then we would have leverage. Of course Noah was onto us, but he got the wrong idea. He turned us in—and that’s how the lieutenant knew. So he hauls us in for a chat along with Noah and that’s when we realize who’s helping him.”

“Who?”

“Everyone. Turns out the rest of the section is crooked, too, and they plan to kill the new guys to keep it quiet. They have to make it look right, of course. But the lieutenant gets mixed up on why Noah turned us in. He thinks Noah wants in, and, for once, Noah is smart enough to play along. He makes a big deal about his loyalty and they drag us off to a cell. That night, Noah breaks us out and tells us to run.”

“Did you?”

“Where the fuck are we going to run in the desert? We told him that and before he could stop us, we took care of the situation.”

The silence that falls between us is deafening. She’s doing the math, putting two and two together. “Oh,” she finally says.

“I didn’t have a choice, Lucky.” Can she see that? Does it matter?

“You killed them.” She says the words aloud like she’s trying them on.

“We didn’t have a lot of options.” I wait for some sign that she understands that, but she doesn’t speak. She just stares fixedly at her glass. “They were going to kill us. We would have been killed by the Taliban if we tried to run. We couldn’t exactly make a phone call and get anyone to help us out.”

“How many?” she asks softly. “How many people did you kill?”

“Does it matter?” It’s a question I’ve asked myself a lot. How much blood is on my hands from that night? Did I make the right call? There is one thing I know. One thing I have to confess to her before she gets any idea that I made an impossible, but noble choice. “Once you kill a man, it’s easier to kill another one and another. It’s still easy.”

“You’ve…” she trails away.

“Yes,” I admit. “That’s not the last time I’ve killed a man. I didn’t make it a profession or anything, but I’ve had to make some shitty choices. Me or them choices.”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, when she finally looks up she studies me for a second. Does she still see the same man? “What happened after that? How did you explain it? Why does Noah hate you?”

“We’re getting to that part,” I say grimly.

I take it as a good sign that she is still listening after what she learned so far.

“So, everyone was dead,” I continue, “and an entire new platoon arrived to investigate and to take us into custody. They start looking into matters and thankfully, our lieutenant was a real piece of shit, because they found plenty of evidence against him.”

“So you weren’t charged?” She’s biting on her nails and I gently take her hand away from her mouth.

“They found we acted in our own defense. Noah corroborated our story, but we took the fall for killing everyone.”

She shakes her head, confusion shining in her eyes. “Then why were you discharged?”

“Believe me, the Marines don’t want to keep around a bunch of guys who’d kill their own unit, even if it’s in self-defense. I guess we were supposed to die to prove our loyalty. Noah would have if we hadn’t knocked him out before the gunfire began.” I pause, knowing that’s not the whole story but knowing she’ll accept it.

“And that’s why he hates you.” Her lips twist into a grimace. “You saved his life.”

“Don’t tell him that,” I advise her. “As far as Noah is concerned, we ruined his life by putting a mark on his pristine record.”

“But why come after you?” she presses.

I draw my hand away and take a sip of my sparkling water, which is warm and flat from the summer heat. “The team investigating the incident found evidence that the lieutenant was planning to unload a large shipment of contraband. At that point, the date set for the delivery was still in the future. They couldn’t find any weapons. No drugs. But there was no evidence that the deal had taken place early. So suspicion turned on us. We all swore we didn’t know anything, but Noah suspected we were lying and told them that. In the end, they couldn’t find any proof, so they discharged me, Jack, and Luca, slapped Noah on the wrist and transferred him to some hellhole, and that was it.”