Page 83 of Echo: Burn
I look back toward where she's taking cover with Stryker. See her face in the firelight. Everything we've been through. Everything she's survived.
And we're the ones who put that target on her back.
"We didn't know," I say, and it sounds pathetic even to my own ears. "The order came down to neutralize the threat. We thought..."
"You thought wrong." Kessler gets to his feet slowly. "Hart wanted to do the right thing. Wanted to expose the weapons. Save lives. And you people made him choose between his conscience and his daughter. What kind of choice is that?"
No choice at all. The same choice I'd make in his position. The same choice any father would make.
"I'm sorry." The words feel inadequate. Meaningless. But they're all I have. "I'm sorry for what we did to him. For what we did to her."
"Sorry doesn't bring him back. Sorry doesn't fix what you broke."
He lunges. The blade catches light from the burning facility as it arcs toward my throat.
I could kill him. Should kill him. One shot would end this. End the threat. End the guilt and the anger and the whole poisonous cycle.
But I'm not the man I was in Yemen anymore.
I sidestep the knife strike, trap his arm, and twist. Something cracks. He screams. The knife falls from nerveless fingers.
"Stay down," I order, my weapon trained on him.
He looks up at me with pure hatred. "You should have killed me."
"Probably." I back away toward the vehicles. "But I'm trying to be better than I was. Trying to be the man Willa thinks I am."
"She doesn't know you." Kessler cradles his broken arm. "Doesn't know what you're capable of. What you've done."
"She knows enough." I keep moving. "And she's still here."
Behind Kessler, the facility's main structure collapses inward. Flames shoot hundreds of feet into the air. The chemical clouds spread wider, glowing faintly toxic in the firelight.
"This isn't over." Kessler struggles to his feet, swaying. "I'll take her from you like you took Hart from me. I'll make you watch her die. Make you feel what he felt."
"You can try." I reach the vehicle where Stryker has Willa secured. "But you'll have to go through all of us."
I climb into the vehicle. Stryker guns the engine. We're moving before Kessler can respond, tires spitting gravel as we race away from the burning facility.
Through the rear window, I watch Kessler's silhouette disappear into the smoke. Still standing. Still dangerous. Still hunting.
"Letting him live was a mistake," Stryker says quietly.
"I know."
"He's going to come for her."
"I know that too." I look at Willa, see her watching me with those eyes that see too much. "But I couldn't. Not anymore."
"Because of me," Willa says softly.
"Because I love you." I take her hand. "And because I'm trying to be someone worthy of that love. Someone who doesn't kill in cold blood anymore."
"Even when that person deserves it?"
"Especially then." I squeeze her hand. "The man I was in Yemen would have put a bullet in Kessler's head withouthesitation. But that man was part of something that threatened you. Part of a team that made your father choose between his daughter and the truth. I don't want to be that anymore."
She's quiet for a long moment. Then: "Did you know? About the threats against me?"
