Page 53 of The 9th Man

“And you were wounded,” Luke said. “In the firefight.”

Talley nodded. “Lost my spleen and almost my leg. But I’m still alive and walking thanks to you.”

“Not just me. We lost three of our own,” Luke said. “What’s this about?”

“I believe it’s called returning the favor.”

“The men you just killed knew you,” Jillian said. “Did you have anything to do with my grandfather’s murder?”

“That operation was already under way when I found out about it.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Talley glanced at Luke. “She’s spicy.”

“A marine. Best you answer her, and quick-like.”

“No, Ms. Stein, I had nothing to do with the death of your grandfather.”

“But you work with these men?” Jillian asked.

Talley nodded.

“Give us the name of your boss,” she demanded.

“If you knew what you were saying, you wouldn’t ask for it.”

“Try me.”

Luke cupped her elbow and whispered in her ear, “Take a breath.”

“I don’t want to take a breath.”

“Pick your battles,” he said. “He saved our asses. Let’s hear him out.”

That did the trick. She nodded and backed away, not looking happy.

Luke asked, “Why is Benjamin Stein dead?”

“That’s above my pay grade.”

“You’re good with the non-answers.”

“Comes with the job.”

“You do what Persik does—or did?”

“Not so much anymore, but at one time, yes, I was like him.”

He was puzzled. “How? Why this path?”

“After I recovered from Celam Kae, I couldn’t pass the physical. They offered me a desk job. Supervisory, with advance planning. I lost eight of my guys on that damn hill. Eight Delta troops the army spent millions of dollars training. They needed somebody to blame. It was never official, of course, but the message was clear. Screw up and you ride a desk for eternity. I didn’t screw up. The intel was awful. Of course, they’re not going to admit to that. So they blamed me. I told them to shove it, took my honorable discharge, my ‘didn’t-get-killed’ medals, and left.”

The tone of Talley’s words was offhanded, casual, but this guy was angry and bitter, even years after the incident. Honestly, Luke couldn’t blame him for that. “What did you do? Put an ad in the paper offering your services?”

“Something like that. You know how it is. Special operations is a small community. Somebody always knows somebody else. A month after I left, I got a call. I took the meeting and here I am.”

“Mercenary murderer,” Jillian snapped.

---