life.”
“You seen a lot of action?” Jack asked.
“Depends on what you call action and how you define a lot . Are you asking if I’ve fired my gun much?”
Jack shrugged. “I’m just talking.”
Nick laughed. “I understand you’ve seen plenty of action for your short time in the army.”
“Plenty,” Jack said.
“Well, you’re going to see even more.”
“I know.”
Nick brought his foot up and put it against the dash, leaning back in his seat.
“He doesn’t seem worried,” a voice said. It startled Jack. He was so used to his hypersensitivity that he knew how sounds rang around in his ears, and this was different. It was a voice in his head—Tabitha.
“I can’t believe they’re sending in six kids and one soldier,” she said. “It’s suicide.”
It wasn’t suicide, Jack thought. He looked in the rearview mirror and met her eyes. Then he gave a small shake of his head.
“You’re saying it’s not suicide? Are you kidding? We’re unarmed, driving straight toward a roadblock that is specifically looking for people like us. There might even be Russian spy planes watching us right now.”
Going into a situation unarmed was their job. They were spies.
“You know,” she said, “not all lambdas are doing this. Not all of them are just going along with everything that the military is telling them to do, and getting in the middle of a fight when they’re totally unprepared.”
Jack wanted to respond. To argue. For starters, Tabitha wasn’t “totally unprepared.” She was a full private. She’d gone through basic training—or, the rushed lambda version of it. And more than that, she had volunteered to join the army. Just like the rest of them.
He looked at her in the mirror again and Tabitha’s blue eyes stared back at him. Even though it was dark in the van, he could see every bit of her face—every strand of hair and eyelash. She was smiling. Maybe so little that she didn’t think anyone could see it, but Jack knew faces. He knew how the muscles pulled around the lips and along the cheek, how tiny creases formed about the eyes and mouth, how the eyes dilated ever so slightly, how the teeth were revealed. He observed it all.
If they were really going into a suicide mission, why would she be smiling?
Jack’s first thought was that she was a traitor, like the lambdas he’d known before—the lambdas who had been terrorists.
But Tabitha wasn’t like that, he told himself. It had taken nearly all of their time at basic training for Jack to learn to trust people again, but he’d convinced himself he could. The terrorists had been hunted down. Even the army had stopped forcing the lambdas to wear the horrible bombs around their ankles—that was as close to a stamp of approval as Jack could get. The military believed the terrorists were rooted out. He had to agree.
“If we survive this,” Tabitha said, “then we should talk about it. I shouldn’t have brought it up when we’re getting ready for a mission.”
Brought what up? That lambdas shouldn’t be in the army? There was no point in talking about that. They were already there. Already assigned to a Green Beret ODA on the front lines of a war on American soil. There wasn’t anything else to talk about.
Jack glanced back at Aubrey. She was still sleeping, her lips slightly parted.
“She’s going to be all right,” Tabitha said, and Jack’s eyes darted to Tabitha’s face. “We’re the Trio, remember? She’s in good hands.”
Jack gave a slight nod in the mirror, and then focused on the road.
“She’s talked about you, Jack. She’s told me a million good things. How you used to hunt together back home. How you were always there for her. She cares about you a lot.”
He didn’t look back. He didn’t like that Tabitha could just get into his head, and he didn’t like that she was talking about Aubrey. It felt too personal. Too intrusive.
He focused on the street, staring at the road ahead of them. He
Learning to Kill: Stories