Chapter 10 · What Derek Owes

Ryan dragged Derek into the alley behind the clinic and slammed him against the brick. Derek's head bounced. Blood trickled from his nose.

"Talk."

Derek tried to twist away. Ryan shoved him harder, forearm across his throat. "You set me up. That squad knew my call sign. Dead call sign. How?"

"Let go—"

"How?"

Derek's eyes rolled. His hands clawed at Ryan's arm. Ryan eased off just enough to let him breathe. Derek gasped, coughed, spat red onto the pavement. "You don't remember, do you?"

"Remember what?"

"Kandahar extraction. Three years ago. You left us."

Ryan's grip tightened. "I was medevaced. My regulator fried. I didn't leave anyone."

"Yeah?" Derek's laugh came out wet and bitter. "That what they told you?"

Ryan wanted to break his neck. His hand twitched. The current climbed his wrist, hot and hungry. He forced it down. "Start making sense or I'm done being nice."

Derek's face was pale now, slick with sweat. "You think your rig just failed? You think that was bad luck?"

"It overloaded during the—"

"It overloaded because they told you to push it. They told you to fry the regulator and dump the charge into the wall breach.