“It was an accident. The guy did something super stupid and broke his neck. I couldn’t let go fast enough.”
“You killed him?” Chas gasped.
“No. He broke his own neck in a dumbass attempt to slip the grip I had on him. Assuming he wasn’t trying to actually kill himself. Which is also possible.”
“And you’re not completely freaked-out?” Chas demanded.
“Chasten. I’m United States Navy SEAL.”
“I know. But… someone died. You’re so calm. Too calm.”
“Death comes with the job. We’re trained to be calm about it. And honestly, this guy was colossally stupid or suicidal. Either way, I wouldn’t have been able to stop him. He moved too abruptly for me to react and turn him loose.” Gunner shrugged, and Chas stared at him in horror.
“How can you be so… casual… about this?”
“Death is never casual,” Gunner snapped.
Chas’s eyes widened. Okay. So Gunner wasn’t completely soulless about having killed some guy. That was a hopeful sign. “You seem so relaxed out here. How is that possible? Bad guys were running around trying to kill you—kill us—and you’re all Mr. Chill. You’re so… in your element.”
Gunner glanced around. “Welcome to my office.”
Chas took a deep breath. Through the haze of his outrage and residual panic, he still sensed what an intimate thing it was for Gunner to share this side of himself with anyone who wasn’t a SEAL. Not that he hated any of it one bit less.
He asked in resignation, “So, where’s this body you have to photograph?”
“A hundred yards or so along the ridge above us. We’ll have to go around the ridge in the opposite direction, which is a bit of a hike up the cliff to the top. It’s a nasty free climb. Not long, but tricky. It’s about a half mile to go around, so we’d better get going.”
Chas volunteered reluctantly, “I used to rock climb. It probably won’t be that big a challenge for me if you want to go straight up.”
“You did?” Gunner blurted.
“I’m not a total couch potato.”
“I took you for more the ballroom dancing type.”
Chas grinned. “Oh, I’ve done that too.”
Gunner rolled his eyes. “I hate dancing.”
“That’s because you’ve never done it with me.”
They reached the ridge, and Gunner showed him where he’d climbed the cliff face. A quick scan with a red-lensed flashlight showed an easier section of rock off to the left a bit, and they chose to scale the wall there instead.
“You go first,” Gunner said. “Be careful of loose rock. This shale cracks off super easily. But I’ll be right behind you.”
“So you can spot me from behind? Or ogle my epic glutes?”
The white flash of Gunner’s teeth indicated that he’d smiled.
“But what if I’m the better climber? Then I should be spotting you,” Chas asked seriously.
Gunner snorted. “You couldn’t catch me if you tried. I weigh half again what you do.”
“I know. I’ve had sex with you, remember?”
And just liked that, the air around them took on a charge that made it crackle and snap across his skin.
Chas mapped his route up the wall and started the climb. It was significantly easier than the walls inside climbing facilities and provided plentiful foot- and handholds. The only difference out here was that he had to carefully test each ledge to make sure no loose rock gave way before he put his weight on it.
In short order, they stood atop the ridge. Chas breathed a little hard, but Gunner was huffing too. Hah. He’d kept up with a SEAL for a couple of minutes.
“Lead on,” Chas murmured.
Gunner pulled down the eyepiece thingy mounted on top of his helmet and took off confidently into the trees. Chas stayed close on his heels, amazed at how silently Gunner slid through the forest, ghostlike. He had to admit, it was sexy seeing him in his native environment like this. It was the difference between a racehorse standing in a stall and the same racehorse flying around a track at forty miles per hour—the former was pretty, but the latter was impressive.
Gunner stopped abruptly. “Stay here.”
The reason they were up here slammed home. A man had died near here. Chas thought he smelled something. Whether it was blood or urine or both, he didn’t know and couldn’t tell. He was probably just being hypersensitive or imagining it altogether. But God, he hated this.
He waited while Gunner moved forward toward a hump on the ground. It appeared that he frisked the body, probably looking for identification. Several bright flashes indicated that he had photographed the dead man too.
In each brief flash of light, Chas caught a silhouette of a nose or the angle of a shoulder. That had been a human being. The dead man had a family. Friends. Hopes and dreams for his future. And he’d died at Gunner’s hands.
Chas didn’t understand the nuances of some guy breaking his own neck versus Gunner doing it for him, but he didn’t much care about the distinction. Gunner had been fighting with the guy violently enough that the guy died, and Gunner had barely batted an eyelash when telling Chas about it.
He watched grimly as Gunner moved in expanding circles around the corpse, staring intently at the ground. Now and then Gunner stopped and dug at something or moved a few leaves around. Eventually he backed away from the corpse, dragging a stick with some dead leaves still attached to it like a broom.
“Okay. Let’s go,” Gunner said.
“Aren’t we going to bury him?”
“His guys ought to come back for him. That way his family can bury him properly.”
“But what if somebody else finds the body? Won’t the police get involved? You could get in serious trouble.”
“I made damned sure I left no evidence behind for law enforcement to find. I’m in the clear.”
Chas’s teeth ground together at how casually Gunner said that. No big. I got away with murder. It’s fine.
Gunner was speaking. “…is a courtesy of war. You let the other side collect their dead and give them burial rites.”
“There’s an etiquette about these things?” Chas exclaimed, appalled.
“Keep your voice down. We don’t want the guy in the motel room to know we’re still out here.”
“What guy in what motel room?”
“The dead guy’s buddy. I captured him and handed him over to Spencer and Drago. They’re undoubtedly stuffing him into the back of their SUV as we speak and taking him someplace else where they can have a little conversation.”
And his panic was back.
He was surprised when Gunner led him along the ridge, hopped off it when it was no more than three feet above the level of the motel parking lot, and led him directly to their car. “What about all our stuff?”
“I already packed everything. We need to roll before the other hostiles work up enough courage to come back looking for their friends.”
SHOCKINGLY, CHAS managed to fall asleep and only woke when the sun rose behind them, flooding the interior of the car with bright light. With morning came a little emotional distance from the night’s events. He was less freaked-out today about a guy having died. He’d known Gunner practically his whole life. He would never kill anyone whom he didn’t absolutely have to.