Page 27 of Silent Target

“I can still use it.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

“It’s the answer that matters.”

She shakes her head. “Impossible.”

We continue through the tunnel.

After several moments, she asks quietly, “How many people couldn’t you save?”

The question lands harder than the explosion.

Images surface before I can stop them.

A rooftop in Afghanistan.

A burning convoy.

A young interpreter who believed I could protect his family.

A father shielding his little girl.

My brothers trapped on a mountain.

Six caskets beneath six American flags.

“Enough,” I say.

Evie doesn’t apologize.

She doesn’t offer empty reassurance or tell me it wasn’t my fault.

She simply walks beside me.

Close enough that our shoulders brush in the darkness.

She doesn’t move away.

Neither do I.

The tunnel ends beneath the abandoned maintenance building.

I gesture for Evie to remain behind me and climb the steel ladder. Then I ease open the hatch.

Rain.

Distant sirens.

No vehicles.

No voices.

No movement.

I climb out and sweep the building before signaling for Evie.

She emerges a moment later.