Sarah found Nate in the alley. She, Samantha, and Zack were searching the club when a fight broke out near the band. Zack dealt with that while Samantha checked the front entrance and Sarah decided—despite Zack’s order not to—to go out the back door.
Security bulbs highlighted the center of the alley but not the shadows surrounding the club and the brick building next door. Thunder rocked the sky, and a few raindrops hit her face. A storm was coming, and from the flashes of lightning, it promised to be intense.
She searched until a lightning flash exposed the sole of a combat boot. Nate sat against a brick wall, one leg stretched out, the other pulled up with an arm draped over it. His eyes were closed, and his other arm rested on his head. There was a graffiti tag painted nearby: the Prioleau sigil of a skeleton hand clutching a sword with the words sans pitié written below.
Nate’s position screamed defeat, like he’d fought the battle and was the only survivor.
“Nate?” She held her skirt and scrunched down next to him, resting a hand on his thigh.
“My head hurts,” he said harshly. “Oh, God. I’m remembering.”
“What are you remembering?”
He shook his head, keeping his eyes closed. “I’m not sure. It’s all in pieces. I know I saw a Fianna warrior bow that night.”
“The night your men were ambushed?”
“On a ridge, at sunset. He wore desert fatigues and tribal clothes with a sword. When he saw me, he bowed.” Nate opened his eyes, took her hand off his thigh, and brought it to his lips. Her legs cramped, and she sat next to him, praying the ground wasn’t as gross as it looked.
He spoke into her hand, as if needing a buffer between them. “We were patrolling, and the mountain next to us exploded in smoke, roars, and chaos. Two rebel attack helos descended. Their twin machine guns fired at my men. Someone on the ground winged RPGs, and the sound blew out my eardrums.”
Sarah didn’t move. Nate still held her hand, but his focus had drifted to some distance over her shoulder. He wasn’t seeing her at all. He was back there, with his men.
“Another helo hovered on the side of the new crater. We were pinned between their guns and more than a hundred tribesmen who believed we were responsible for that massacre.”
He closed his eyes, and she gripped his thigh again. “What happened next?” She wasn’t sure why, but she knew whatever he was remembering was important.
“It was impossible to hear anything over the whirring blades. Everything smelled like oil and gunpowder. I raised my head to check out the situation, and when the man on the hill saw me, he bowed.”
“Nate? Who did this to you? Who set you up for that massacre and that ambush?”
“Remiel Marigny. The man who wants you to solve the cipher.”
* * *
Nate pressed his head against the alley’s brick wall and kept his eyes closed because he didn’t want to face the reality that he’d met Remiel Marigny and seen Fletcher Ames again. Nate also didn’t want to let go of Sarah’s hand. What he really wanted was to drag her onto his lap, bury his hands in her hair, and breathe in her perfume. Something about her kept him steady. The ever-present humming, which had racked his body since leaving the prison hospital, had lessened today.
“Nate?” she whispered. “Let’s go inside. It’s going to rain.”
He nodded but still couldn’t move.
“Wait here.” She withdrew her hand, and he heard her soft footsteps. A few minutes later, maybe it was longer, he felt her kneel next to him again. “We’re going to the apartment.”
He opened his eyes. “No.” It was time to stop feeling sorry for himself. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” another, deeper voice said. Zack stood a few feet away, frowning. “Ty and Cain will take over for you tonight. Samantha will drive you and Sarah to the apartment.”
Nate stood and helped Sarah up. “Is Samantha done with her shift?”
“No. I’m sending her home. This place is a fucking crazy-town.”
Nate kissed Sarah’s hand. He didn’t care about Zack’s dark glare. “I should get Ty and Cain settled.”
Zack scoffed. “We’ll figure it out.”
Despite Zack’s right to be angry, Nate was tired of apologizing for his constant failures. He didn’t even care that Sarah was there to witness it all. “What’s wrong?”
“Why don’t you tell me what the hell happened out here tonight?”
When he couldn’t figure out a lie, he went with the truth. “I met Remiel Marigny.”
Zack’s mouth fell open.
“I’m still not sure what’s going on, but I don’t want to talk about it. And don’t mention it to the others.”
“Fuck—”
Nate held out a hand. “I promise to fill you in as soon as I get some real answers. Can I trust you, brother?”
Zack stared at Sarah until she moved close enough for Nate to put his arm around her shoulders.
Finally, Zack said, “If I don’t get answers from you by noon tomorrow, I’m telling the other men.”
Nate nodded.
“Alright.” Zack headed inside. “I’ll get Sarah’s bags.”