His hands tightened on the rail. It had been done in the nation’s best interests. The world’s best interests. What else might it have been considered when you weighed one sacrifice against all the thousands that had stood to benefit from the removal of a dictator like Omar al-Bashir and the seizure of the oil refineries that were giving the Russians and Chinese economic dominance over the United States?
If the plan had been successful, all that would have been taken care of at once. Lily Durant would not have died in vain, but would have given her life for a greater purpose.
That said, he had told Simon Nusairi where she was, and had arranged for her death in order to jolt David Brenneman and Brynn Fitzgerald from their passivity. He had not counted on the brutality of the act…
The rape.
The torture.
No, Stralen had not counted on that. But would he have changed what he’d done if he had?
He took a slow, deep breath, moving closer to the rail. Would he have changed what he’d done if he had known not only that Lily would die but also the manner of her death?
He opened his eyes now, staring up into the dazzling brightness of the sky, gradually turning them toward the full glare of the sun. It was alone up there above him, not a plane or bird in sight.
Just him and the sun, the sun and him. And, of course, the sand and water below.
Stralen looked up into the glaring orb as long as he could, his eyes at once burning and filling with moisture.
He jumped without ever looking down.
