Page 134 of Broken Oath

Bishop.

Sniper.

Fathom.

Rook.

It had been taken after an operation in North Africa. Viking had insulted the photographer seconds before the camera flashed. Hammer was laughing. Tex held two fingers behind Ghost’s head.

One of the last truly good days.

Rook had kept the photograph inside his office.

It disappeared after the mountain.

He had assumed investigators took it while clearing his belongings.

Yet here it sat.

Perfectly preserved.

He picked up the frame.

His fingers tightened around it.

A message had been written across the back.

Five words.

I TRIED TO SAVE THEM.

The compartment fell silent.

The others gathered behind him.

Nobody spoke.

Because the woman wasn’t merely watching.

She wasn’t only helping.

She was grieving.

Rook stared at the photograph.

He understood the guilt hidden inside those five words.

The belief that he should have seen the trap.

That he should have stopped it.

That he should have brought all of his men home.

For months, he had carried that wound alone.

Now he realized the woman with the silver sword carried one exactly like it.

For the first time, Rook stopped seeing her as a mystery.