Page 55 of Crocodile Tears

“And as broad as a barn, but I’ve seen little guys who are scrappy fighters and big guys who go down easily. You, though, are in a different league entirely. You’re not just a fighter – you’re a one-man battalion. So, I took another look at your file and saw something interesting.”

“What’s that, sir?”

“You were at Rosengarten.”

Josiah felt a chill settle in his belly. “A lot of people were at Rosengarten, sir,” he said tightly.

“But few came out alive – and even fewer were as highly decoratedas you. Rosengarten – Rose Garden – such a pretty name for such a sad place.”

“I don’t remember it being all that pretty, sir.”

“No. What took place there was brutal, so you have my utmost respect for surviving it. It’s an odd career move though: from an elite Special Forces combat unit to the Peacekeeping Corps. Care to explain it to me, Joe?”

“Not really, sir.”

“Hmm.” Hunt looked at him shrewdly.

“And for the record, sir, only my family and closest friends get to call me Joe,” Josiah said stiffly. “And they’re mostly all dead now.”

Hunt nodded. “Understood. Are you aware that our mission might take us near Rosengarten? How do you feel about that? Are you ready to go back there?”

Josiah closed his eyes, briefly, and then opened them again. “Yes, if that’s where we need to be. Can I go now, sir?”

“Yes, of course.”

He began striding away, as quickly as he could.

“Oh, Sergeant, one more thing,” Hunt said softly. “Thank you.”

Josiah turned back, frowning. “For what, sir?”

“Saving my life back there. Never felt as safe in a skirmish as with you at my back.”

“That’s what sergeants are for, Captain.” Josiah shot off a little salute.

“Well, I appreciate it… Joe.” Hunt’s eyes sparkled as he dared Josiah to take offence at the nickname.

Josiah said nothing – but he was smiling as he left the tent.

He woke with a start. His entire body ached, not just from sleeping uncomfortably but also from the fight at the gym the previous night. He glanced ruefully at his bruised knuckles, wondering if Peter would be proud of him or ashamed. This was one area of his life that he’d never completely managed to control, although he suspected his late husband had always secretly liked that.

Josiah glanced at his watch to find it was nearly 7.30a.m. He was due to meet the housekeeper at Dacre’s house at nine, so he sprinted up the stairs to take a shower.

Closing his eyes as the water ran over his head, he remembered showers spent with Peter, kissing and making love under the warm spray. Peter’s shoulders had been broad and round, and he’d been soft around the belly and saggy around the arse. Yet his body had been perfect in its imperfections, and Peter had never cared how it looked – he’d lived in it as if it was a crumpled, comfortable old sweater, and somehow that had made him all the more attractive.

Josiah got dressed, taking a few moments to ensure that his suit hung perfectly on his big frame, his tie was knotted smartly and matched his pocket square, and his shoes were shining, military style.

He studied himself in the mirror, grimacing at the bruises on his knuckles and the cut on his jaw, then he dug out a pair of black leather gloves; his colleagues might find him wearing them inside odd, but at least he wouldn’t have to explain his hands. He couldn’t do anything about the cut on his jaw, which was all too visible, but he could trot out the tired old cliché about cutting himself shaving and glare people into believing him.

There were dark shadows under his eyes from his disturbed night, and his skin was pale, making the wound stand out even more, but he’d just have to bluff it out.

Finally, with one last glance in the mirror, he was ready to face the new day.

Chapter Ten

JULY 2086

Alex

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