Page 12 of Ash Storm

Ash

This was Ash’s first time in Turkey, and his first time in a safe house.

He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it certainly hadn’t been to drive this deep into the Turkish countryside.

The window from his room faced the winding driveway and, beyond that, a large expanse of green, with just a few colorful flakes which he assumed must be villages. Silence reigned all around them. It was strange to imagine the city of Istanbul could be a mere forty miles away.

The knock on his door wasn’t a surprise.

“Come in,” he said.

Dark stepped inside.

“Nice view,” he commented lightly.

“It is.”

Like him, Dark had been in prison when Thorne approached him. Like him, he’d pledged five years of his life in exchange for freedom.

Not that Ash knew what the hell he’d do once he had that freedom. And it wasn’t something he wanted to think about too much, not when so much could go wrong between now and then. It was better not to make long-term plans, even if he envied Dark, sometimes. During their last mission, he’d found Alexia, an American teacher who—

“It doesn’t have to be you,” Dark said, getting right to business.

Ash’s fingers itched to clench into palms, but he kept himself still. Getting emotional wasn’t going to help him convince Dark that he was the right man for the job.

“I want to do it.” He looked right into Dark’s blue eyes. “My shoulder is healed, and I’m the best fighter on the team.”

He wasn’t bragging. Close quarter combat fighting was one of the things he understood best in life. When he was fighting, and everything else disappeared except him and his opponent, Ash could often see four or five moves ahead. It was an ability that had gotten him noticed early on, and one he’d worked hard to hone.

“You are,” Dark acknowledged.

“So it’s settled, then,” Ash said quickly.

Dark approached the table in the corner where Ash had already set up his travel chess set. He stared at the pieces without touching them. “We need to talk first. I never said thank you properly.”

Ash frowned. Not what he’d been expecting.

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“I owe you everything.” Dark looked Ash straight in the eyes. “You didn’t hurt that girl. Back in Syria.”

Ash lowered his gaze, his jaw so tight it hurt.

“I know you didn’t rape that girl,” Dark continued. And Ash felt tears come unbidden to his eyes, because it had been so long since anybody had taken the trouble to believe in him.

“No,” he agreed. “I didn’t.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“Syria in those days was … I don’t need to tell you what it was like. Two of our soldiers raped her. I never saw their faces. I heard them as I was doing my rounds. I heard the screams coming from inside one of the tunnels of the old city. They both ran off when I arrived, leaving the girl behind.”

“I don’t understand,” Dark said. “Why did you take the blame?”

“It was the only way to get her medical attention. She was in bad shape, bleeding, and in so much pain. I thought she was going to fucking die in my arms,” Ash said, his voice rough to his own ears. If he closed his eyes, he could still feel the way her slim body had shuddered with every breath. “At first, our medics didn’t want to take her in. They were worried about repercussions in the local community. As soon as I took responsibility, though, she was immediately evacuated to a German hospital.”

“She survived?” Dark asked.

Ash nodded. It was the only good thing to have come of it all. “They took care of her, saved her life. She stayed in Germany. She met her husband there, they’ve had a daughter together. She writes to me sometimes, sends me pictures of the baby.”