Page 93 of What I Should Have Done

“Look, this is my choice. This is my idea, and as team commander, I’ll take full responsibility,” Dom quickly inserted.

Scottie’s jaw trembled as her gaze stole mine. If she didn’t already, she would certainly hate me after this. But that was okay if it kept her safe. After the shit I put her through, after crossing her boundaries, it was the least I could do.

“You think that Karimy-boy is going to try and come after us,” Ford grumbled.

Dom nodded solemnly. “I don’t just think, I know. He’s desperate, just like we are. And if not everyone knows the exact location—”

“It’s leverage that they don’t know we have. It could buy us time, save one of our lives, be a bargaining chip,” Bernie finished for him.

Dom glanced again at me and closed his eyes.

“No. We don’t negotiate with terrorists,” Ford quickly said, pushing off of the desk. “I don’t care that Bernie said it could be a bargaining chip.”

“This is plan B, okay? A failsafe,” Dom quickly explained.

Ford shook his head, a frown tightening his face. “There’s no changing your mind, is there?”

“Unless you have a better way to guarantee we finally get the damn Black Box, then by all means tell me; otherwise, no. This is the best play,” Dom answered.

The rest of the team shared quick glances as my stomach churned. We would all eventually get what we deserved, and this was my penance. I was fine with it too. Despite the nerves, if this guaranteed the safety of my teammates and retrieval of the black box, then it was an easy decision.

“Scottie and Bernie, you two will join Mikey in his buggy, following me with Duncan and Ford. Memorize this map so you can at least keep track of landmarks as we go along. Tags stay here. So, you know the drill if someone is killed,” Dom explained.

“No, I don’t know the drill,” Scottie rapidly gushed, her eyes widening.

Dread filled my soul. This was already killing her, and we weren’t even out on the trail yet. Ford shared a glance with Bernie, sympathy crossing his hardened face, and then he turned to Scottie. “We’re headed out on an unsanctioned mission. If we are killed, we never existed. We don’t come home.” Ford slipped his dog tags over his head and placed them on the table between us, where Duncan and Bernie’s dropped theirs.

Scottie looked directly at me, disbelief coating features that were usually so strong. I couldn’t even bring myself to offer a reassuring smile as I slid the chain off my neck. It plunked on the table with a clink as Dom added his to the pile. Everyone looked at Scottie.

“This isn’t the first time for you guys. I saw you go to remove them before as if it was out of habit,” she muttered as if she was trying to console herself.

No one said anything. There was nothing we could say to offer her comfort as her slender fingers found the chain around her neck. She tugged up, revealing her own tags from beneath her shirt and, with her hand trembling, she stepped forward. Hesitating for half a second, she finally dropped them in the pile.

“Ten minutes. Gear up. Bring all the shit you have. While I hope I’m wrong, I doubt that we’re going to get out of this without the dog fight of our lives,” Dom said, dismissing us.

Without a word, I followed the team out from the secure building and into deceivingly fresh air. The sun was sinking in the horizon, settling a bright orange glow in warning of the impending darkness that would drape over the sandy desert.

Soon it would become black, as dark as every part of my soul already was; I almost relished in the idea of getting my hands a little dirty. All the anger stored over the years would come out to play soon—I hoped.

The thing was, something else hung stiff in my heart. The excitement, the adrenaline from a fight, from an upcoming battle was vacant. Nothing but an emptiness called to me. The day to accept my fate had arrived, and I welcomed it with open arms. I’d been fighting for so long, it lacked the novelty it used to hold.

“Mikey?” Scottie’s delicate voice slipped through my thoughts as we neared our tent. She paused, and I stopped beside her, putting space between us and the rest of the team.

She looked up at me, her doe eyes full of pleading and sorrow. “Can we talk really fast?”

The sunset reflected in her amber irises, the orange like a fire I no longer felt in my soul. Pain, however, roared as hot as the embers in her gaze. A gentle breeze, mocking the storm we were headed to, danced a strand of hair into her face. I reached forward, desperate for one final moment to touch her skin, and brushed the black lock away from her cheek.

“After the mission,” I whispered. Numbing myself to the doom I knew was coming had been so much easier before she’d come along. “After we get back, okay?”

Her bottom lip trembled again. “There’s something you’re not telling me,” she quietly cried out, desperation thick in her words.

“You asked me not to,” I replied, wishing beyond everything that I’d confessed to her earlier. Broken and torn between what was right and what I so desperately wanted to say to her. I knew why she’d pushed me away. And yeah, it hurt like hell, but that didn’t change my feelings for her.

I pulled my hand away from her face, memorizing what her dark complexion looked like. What the feel of her skin beneath my fingers was like. Imprinting that smell of faint vanilla and the desert on my heart, I gave her one final smile and stepped around her.

Spinning the wheel, we cruised around another bend. I wasn’t that surprised we’d made it this far without any insurgents showing up. Because, realistically, if I was attacking someone, I’d have waited to do it at this exact location. This portion of the road was the most dangerous part of the route. But Dom had believed the risk was worth it. It was the quickest way to get to where we needed to be without ending up adding over two and a half days to our trip.

There was a reason that this canyon was nicknamed “Devil’s Throat”. One way in, one way out, and death haunted every corner, every crevice along this ravine. If Karim were to show up here, we’d be sitting ducks.

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