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“Behind you!” The call came from the other side of the bloody field.
Joe spun and shot.
Hitting Ed square in the chest.
Ed looked down at
the wound. The gun in his hand fell to the grass. Ed followed, his knees hitting the earth with a thud.
“Joe?” His eyes began to glaze over.
“Why, Ed? Why, dammit?” Joe caught his one-time friend and lowered him to the ground. He ripped off his own t-shirt and wadded it up, holding it to the wound. But he knew his efforts were futile. It was a lethal shot. “Tell me why, old friend.”
Ed started to smile and then coughed. Blood trickled from his lips. “Money.”
“Money?” Joe wanted to roar at the stupidity.
“You don’t live here.” Ed’s voice was barely a croak. “It’s hard here without enough money.”
“Damn, Ed, you’re a lawyer. You aren’t selling trash from the city dump.”
Ed tried to shake his head, but couldn’t. “Corrupt. Everything corrupt. Need money to live well. Need money to buy…favours…to…be…happy…here…”
And then he was gone. Joe stared at the man he’d trusted, not only with his life, but the life of the woman he loved. A man who came from the same background as he did, who’d been trained in honour. A man who should have stood for something. Who could have stood for something. Instead, he’d sold himself for nothing.
“Joe,” Ryan said flatly.
“I’m coming.” Joe stood, feeling as though the air around him was pushing him back down.
Ryan was several feet behind Joe. There was blood on his hands. He gave Joe a look that was far too understanding.
“You had no choice.”
Joe jerked his chin up. That didn’t make it any easier. He looked down at Ed’s body. It was wrong to leave him lying in a field. Every cell of his being wanted to carry him back to Lima for a proper burial.
“You can’t,” Ryan said, reading his mind.
With no vehicle, Callum incapacitated and who knew how many more of Esteban’s men out there, they couldn’t afford to take Ed with them.
“This wasn’t him,” Joe said. “The Ed I knew, back in the corps, wouldn’t have sold us out.”
Ryan clasped Joe’s shoulder. “I liked him.”
“Yeah.” Joe ran a hand down his face. “He was the one who told me that honour wasn’t a code for a marine—it was his soul.”
He clenched his fists, angry at Ed. Angry at the choices he’d made and the actions he’d forced Joe to take. Angry at the waste of a good man. A waste that would haunt Joe for the rest of his life.
“He lost his soul.” Joe looked at Ed one last time. “I’ll come back for you.”
Ryan didn’t say anything.
“Let’s go.” Joe would deal with his guilt and the ghosts that followed him later. There was nothing else he could do for Ed now.
They jogged to the bush where Callum lay flat on his back. “Out of ammo.” He held up his gun.
“You okay?” Joe leaned down to help him up.
“No. The bastards shot my leg.”
