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“When what’s done, Captain? When you’re done torturing me for a fuck up you were instrumental in?”
“The numbers came straight from your scouting logs,Sergeant.”
“And you assured me that all twenty of them got out before I blew the fucking place to hell!” I roar. “How many? How many did I kill?”
The captain runs a trembling hand over his salt and pepper scruff and moves behind the desk, using it as a barrier. “Five,” he answers, and like a lion let loose from its cage, I pounce. The metal table goes flying, and I have the captain by the throat, his feet dangling in the air.
“Five? Can you not fucking count!? You knew there were still victims in there, and you still ordered me to blow it.” I squeeze his throat tighter, and he grapples at my hand, but I have at least four inches and thirty pounds of muscle on him.
“They … weren’t … victims,” he chokes under my hold.
I drop him back on his feet and fist his collar. “What do you mean. I heard the boss with my own ears. Women and children.Explain.”
“All the women and children we went there to rescue got out, but the fucker had his wife and kids at the compound. I couldn’t risk not getting the victims out to grab his piece of filth family.”
He might as well have hit me with a sledgehammer. I stumble back, eyes wide, heart thundering in my chest. Bile rises to my throat, and tears prick the back of my eyes. “You knew a woman and her children were in that compound and took it upon yourself to be their judge, jury, and executioner?”
“I did what needed to be done, Greco. If we went back into that compound for somela concha de tu madre’s,motherfucker’s family, it could have cost us the mission, and there would be a shit ton of pissed-off mercenaries banging down my fucking door demanding their payday that wouldn’t come!” His breathing is shallow by the time he’s done with his pitiful excuse.
I take a threatening step forward, and he trips over his feet and stumbles into the filing cabinet to get away from me. “Fuck the money. You’re not God. You don’t get to decide who livesand dies.”
“What the hell do you think we’ve been doing, Greco?” The bastard has the balls to laugh. “With each mission, we do exactly that, and last I checked, you receive a payday just like the rest of us,”he sneers.
“I don’t give two shits about the money, and I don’t kill innocent––”
“Of course, you don’t care about the money. You’ve got your mafia buddy Calvano to line your pockets. Well, we ain’t all so lucky, asshole. Now the question is are you gonna keep bitching like a little girl, or will you nut up and help us take these bastards down?” The edge of his lips tip up in knowing. He thinks he has. He knows why I joined this particular team. They were known to go into the roughest areas and battle some of the most dangerous men in the world. It was like the purest heroin to an addict. But unlike an addict, I’m not willing to sacrifice innocence for my fix.
I unbuckle my gun holster and lay it on top of the filing cabinet by his head. “I’m out,” I say, then walk out of the command tent to neverlook back.
But what’s the old saying? Never say never...
