Page 108 of Lethal Game

Dr. Blairmore lost the sneer, but not the disgust as he turned and hurried back to the hospital tent.

“What about him?” Len asked, pointing at the guy who’d knifed his way through her tent.

“Check with me later,” Con told him. “After I’ve questioned him.”

“I’ve seen him around,” Len said. “He’s well known in camp. If he stays missing for too long you’re going to have an even bigger problem on your hands.”

Con flashed his teeth. “Won’t be a problem if he’s found on the other side of camp, dead of a couple of knife wounds, will it?”

Len shrugged. “Probably not.” He looked at her and nodded. “Let me know if you need any help.” With that, he headed back to the hospital.

Sophia watched him walk away. It was almost a swagger. “Still taking your water plain?” she asked Con.

“I think so.”

“Wonderful.”

“Con? Doc?” River’s voice floated out of the dark.

“Here,” Con answered. “We’re okay, but we’re down two Marines.”

River came around the lab tent and crouched next to the man Con had taken captive. “He’s been missed. You’ve got maybe ten minutes before a very large angry crowd comes looking for him.”

Sophia stepped closer to look down at the man on the ground, his damp face reflecting the low light from the flare. “Do you understand me?”

He didn’t respond.

Con translated.

She saw a tightening of his lips. Good enough for her.

“I am a woman,” she began slowly so Con could translate as she spoke. “I didn’t come here to kill or hurt or experiment. I came to help the women and children of this camp. I came to help the fathers and brothers and leaders of this camp. Men make war. I amnot a man.”

The man spoke rapidly for several seconds. Con translated.

“One of our brothers swore on his life that you came to kill our women and children with your poisons.”

“I don’t know your brother. I have never met him, but I can show you why I would never do that to anyone else.” She began to unbutton the sleeve of her left arm.

“What are you doing?” Con hissed.

“I need to show him my pain.”

“You don’t need to show him anything.” Con shook his head, saying, “This is totally fucked.”

She started rolling up her sleeve and though the man on the ground tried to shy away when she bent to give him a good look, he did look.

She turned her arm to show him every scar, every bruise. “I had a cancer when I was a child. The doctors did many things to me to save my life. Many painful things.” She turned her arm again and the man stared at her arm with eyes gone wide. “None of it worked. I grew weak and everyone thought I would die. But I didn’t. I began to get better. Not because of the things doctors did. My body simply...got better.”

“Allah,” the man whispered.

She nodded. “I made a promise to try to help everyone. Until my dying breath, I would do nothing to harm, only heal.” She rolled down her sleeve and buttoned the cuff.

The man pointed at different places on her arm, and said something.

Con translated. “You are sick now. How can we trust you, when sickness is still inside your body?”

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