Page 49 of Promises in the Dark

“How many?” I asked, glancing at him with an arched eyebrow.

He just smirked. “The last one made it five,” he said, as if this was supposed to impress me.

I gave him a hard look, not buying his cocky bullshit. He raised his eyebrows, acting like he couldn’t believe I was questioning him.

“They’re getting desperate, Rogue,” he continued, puffing his chest out like some self-righteous asshole. “Since we started our offensive in the south, the Talis have been struggling to maintain their hold on the area. They’ve called in reinforcements from their stronghold in Jalalabad, but they’re still spread thin.”

I nodded and kept moving forward. I supposed that made sense. The offensive was working. Those pricks were spread thin and struggling to hold ground against the American forces.

“Why were they so close to our base?” I asked, furrowing my brow. “That’s no coincidence. They’re getting too bold.”

“For sure,” Viper agreed. “And they’re resorting to riskier tactics. From what I’ve seen, they’re trying to gather as much intel as they can, even if it means getting uncomfortably close to our doorstep.”

My mind was spinning with suspicion as Viper casually mentioned taking out the Taliban spy group. There was a gnawing thought I couldn’t shake—someone had sold us out. But who the fuck could it be?

I glanced at him, narrowing my eyes. I couldn’t completely ignore the possibility he might’ve been involved, but jumping to conclusions would’ve been stupid. We were supposed to be brothers in arms, but trust? That shit was fragile. One crack, and everything goes to hell.

“You don’t think this might have been an inside job?” I asked, slightly accusatory towards him.

“You imply we have a traitor in our midst?”

I just stared at him, holding back the urge to outright accuse him. I didn’t have proof—yet. But I knew someone was playing both sides, and it made me fucking furious.

“Talis knew precisely where we were and launched a coordinated attack on us. That’s not just luck.” I said, my voice tense and my thoughts racing. “Someone had to have rated us out.” I continued, letting my anger and suspicion fill my voice. “I don’t know who. But it couldn’t have been just a coincidence. Some bastard led them straight to us.”

My eyes bored into Viper, trying to see if I could get a reaction out of him. “Roach, Gaz, Tiger and Phantom,” I listed, my voice hollow and emotionless. “They’re all dead. We were set up, ambushed, and they didn’t make it out.”

“Maybe our intel is shit, or maybe there’s a mole,” he said, unconcerned. He wasn’t exactly helping the situation with his nonchalant attitude.

“Did the Captain mention anything?” I bluntly asked, and straight to the point.

“All he told us was that you were wounded and recovering in the med camp near Kandahar. He didn’t give any specifics about the others,” Viper replied calmly, his tone was as flat as ever, no emotion, no fucking concern.

I could feel my fists clenching. He was dodging, and it pissed me off. But I kept my cool. Barely.

"That’s all?" I asked, making sure I wasn’t missing anything.

“Nothing more,” he replied, his expression still stone-cold. “I’m just as fucking pissed as you are.”

Yeah, right. I didn’t buy it for a second.

“Why are you being so evasive about it?” I asked, no longer holding back. He wasn’t getting away with this shit.

Viper just shrugged, seeming unfazed by my irritation. He was playing at something, I just couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was.

“I’m not hiding shit,” he said, his tonality growing sharper. “Capt. said you were hurt. Nothing else. End of story.”

The way he avoided eye contact, the way his voice wavered just slightly—it didn’t sit right with me. Something was off.

“I don’t understand what your game is here, Viper,” I continued. “But I’ll let this go for now.”

“Smart move,” he replied, a smug look in his eyes. “Don’t go making enemies of your own men, it wouldn’t bode well for you.”

I shot him the fiercest look I could manage, barely containing my annoyance toward him.

“You know more than you’re telling,” I accused, fists itching to wipe that smirk off his face. “Why are you being so fucking cryptic?”

I knew the prick well. He was slippery, always had been. My gut was screaming that he was lying, but I couldn’t pin him down.

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