“If you’re doing this to prove something—” I say.
His expression changes at that. “This isn’t about proving anything,” he cuts me off.
“Really?”
“Yes, really.” He folds his arms, then seems to think better of making himself look closed off and lets them drop again. “I need to do my job.”
“Need,” I say. “That’s the word we’re using?”
“It’s the right one.”
“No,” I tell him. “The right one iswant. You want to be out there because sitting still is driving you out of your mind.”
For a second, he doesn’t speak at all. “You think I don’t know that?”
I don’t answer because of course he knows it. He’s Niko. He knows exactly what he’s doing nearly all of the time. That doesn’t make me any more inclined to help him do it.
He steps closer. “I can’t keep sitting in that flat and feeling myself rot.”
“Niko—”
“No, listen. Cassie is gone. The baby’s there. Every time I look at him, I know exactly what’s missing and exactly why he doesn’t understand it yet. I go home, and I sit there, and the walls feel closer every day.” He swallows hard. “I need to be useful.”
There’s that word again. I rub a hand over my mouth and look away for a second because there is no version of this conversation I like.
“You are useful,” I say. “That’s not the issue.”
“It is to me. I know what the CO thinks.”
“He said no?” I ask him.
“He advised against it.”
“Which is officer language for no.”
He gives a short breath that might have been a laugh in another life. “He thinks I’m not fit.”
“Are you?” I ask instead.
He looks at me steadily. “Fit enough.”
“Cassie died a matter of weeks ago, Niko. Do you really think this is the right time to push onto an op?”
“I think if I keep being treated like a man who can’t be trusted to do his own work, I’ll start believing it.” The mad part is that I understand him. I understand this impulse, the need to stand upforsomething rather than just what’s left after something awful. God help me, I understand it too well.
That doesn’t mean I like it.
I lean against the desk, arms folded now, because if I don’t anchor myself somewhere, I’ll start pacing. “And if it goes wrong?”
He shrugs once, but there’s no carelessness in it. “Everything goes wrong eventually.”
“That’s not an answer,” I say, letting out a breath.
His eyes don’t leave mine. “It’s the only one I’ve got. I need this, Caiden,” he says, more quietly than before. “Please.”
I look down at the headset on the desk, the neat stack of documents, the mission timings. Then I think about the route and about how good Niko actually is.
I think about saying no, him ignoring me, then going around me if he has to. Then I think about Ari. Ari would definitely say no, and not gently either. Ari would say no, mean it, and let Niko hate him for a week if that was the price.
