Sierra Tango Yankee X-Ray

“Yeah I did,” he said eventually. Reluctantly.

“And you regretted it,” the Russian said bitterly, gazing out over the water, “but the universe is cruel. And you are damned for it regardless.”

“He wasn’t armed,” Rendell said softly, mostly to himself. “We retrieved the body, and we could tell he was an insurgent from the tattoo. But he wasn’t armed. And I’d killed him.”

“So here we are,” the Russian said quietly, “reluctant killers. Dishonoured. Dead.”

Rendell nodded. There was no way around it. He’d died there in that jungle near the place where he’d killed an unarmed man, and now here he was.

“Purgatory,” he said. His companion nodded.





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