Page 12 of Tactical Lies

That was wrong.

It wasn't fear.

It was terror. The kind of terror she’d felt so many times since she was raped by a classmate and her entire world was tossed on its head.

“We have to do something,” she whispered, trying to keep her voice as quiet as she could, but she doubted anyone could hear her over the sound of the gunfire.

“We are doing something.”

“No, we’re not. We’re just lying here.” Didn't he work for Prey Security? Hadn't he been a Navy SEAL? Just because he’d come here to talk to her and not because of his job didn't mean he would have come unarmed, surely there was something he could do.

“We’re keeping you alive. That’s what we’re doing.”

“But what about everybody else? Who’s keeping them alive?”

Guilt and remorse filled his sky-blue eyes, and she knew it wasn't fair to put the weight of the couple of hundred people who lived in the village on his shoulders. “I can't save them all, Becca. Not on my own with only one weapon. If it were just a few assailants, or just a few people to save, then maybe, but not like this. I'm sorry.”

“H-how do you know there isn’t just one person sh-shooting?” she asked, hating that her voice trembled on a few words. Now was not the time to fall apart. She had to be strong, had to hold it together.

“Because I know what it sounds like when multiple weapons are firing simultaneously,” Connor replied.

She didn't even want to think about him knowing things like that.

While she’d always known Connor would follow in his father and grandfather’s footsteps and join the military no matter how many times he’d told her he wasn't going to enlist, she didn't like to think about him being in danger. Even now, over a decade after he’d shattered her fragile heart, she didn't like it.

“What are we going to do?” she whispered. How were they going to survive this was what she really wanted to ask. If several men were shooting up her village, sooner or later they would find her and Connor even if they stayed there and were quiet. Besides, it was cowardly to hide with the only skilled, armed man there while everyone else died. “What about Izzy? What about the children?”

He was torn, she could see he was.

The thing was, even though she had so much anger still inside her, all directed at this man, and even though he’d hurt her so badly, she believed him when he said he was sorry for what had happened. At heart, Connor was a good man, she knew that, she even got why he’d panicked and ran. If she’d had the luxury of running from her life, she would have bailed, too.

And maybe that was why she was so furious. He’d done what she’d wanted to do but you couldn’t run from yourself, no matter how badly you wanted to.

“I could … hide?” she suggested. “Then you could go.”

“Becca—”

“Please, Connor.” While it irked her to ask this man for anything, much less beg, she wasn't above doing it for this. For the best friend who had stood by her no matter what, and for all those sweet little children who looked up to her. She had to do something to help them. There was no way to know who was attacking the village or why, but depending on their motives, they could slaughter everyone they found, old and young alike.

There were plenty of rumors that a leftover pocket of Khmer Rouge, now using a new name, lived and operated in the area. They trafficked anything they could get their hands on, drugs, weapons, and people. How could she just lie there and not try to do anything to protect the people she cared about?

“All right. I’ll see what I can do, but I can't make you any promises. Do you understand that, Becca? Not because I don’t want to, but because I can't. I'm outmanned and outgunned, and even if you hate me for it my priority is you and your safety.”

“Okay,” she agreed. Part of her wanted to argue with him about it, but in the end he was right. He was only one man and said he only had one weapon. No way could he take on a potential gang alone, and she didn't want him to get himself killed.

“You're going to head that way,” he said, gesturing to their right. “You're going to keep walking—walking, not running, so you aren't as obvious—and you're not going to stop until I find you.”

“How will you find me?”

“Trust me, I will.”

Without waiting for a response, Connor stood, grabbing her hands and pulling her up with him. When he gave her a gentle nudge in the direction he’d told her to go she hesitated.

That moment of hesitation was the only reason she saw it.

Movement.

Two men, dressed in black, with assault rifles in their arms, heading right toward them.

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