He looked at her, horror in his eyes. 'Why did you do that, Iris? I told you to let it go.'
'Because you wouldn't tell me and I needed to know.'
He held up his hand, one finger pointing at her as if in accusation. 'You don't need to know any of it. I don't want you to know any of it.'
'Well, that's too damn bad.' she countered, her voice rising more sharply than she intended.
She saw Moira turn her head toward their table in response. She took a deep breath and dropped her voice. 'I needed to understand where you were coming from. I want to understand you, Maddox.'
He looked away from her. 'Sugar, you'll be out of here one way or another by the end of the week. What difference could it possibly make to you?'
She knew he was right. She wasn't going to see him again once she returned to Alabama and her life in Willow Grove. She couldn't say she thought it so important to know what he'd been through in Kaziristan three years ago.
He shrugged before she could formulate an answer. 'Hell, may be it's a good thing. You need to know what kind of sick bastard you're up against if Tahir Mahmoud really is part of al-Adar, Just remember, you can't believe everything you read.' His voice dropped an octave. 'I'm no hero'
'Yes, you are.' she said firmly. 'I read firsthand accounts from people you saved during the siege. They all say you got a raw deal from the Marine Corps after what you did to keep those people alive. You shouldn't have been forced out.'
'Forced out?' Maddox's laugh lacked any sign of humor. 'I wasn't forced out. I resigned. I got the hell out and never looked back. You call that heroic?' He shook his head. 'I'm not that guy you read about on your little Web site.'
'I know about Teresa Miles. I know what you had to do'
His expression blackened. 'What I chose to do.'
She tried to cover his hand with her own, but he jerked his hand away. She grabbed the edge of the table, leaning toward him. 'You probably don't want to hear this, I'm pretty sure you will disagree with me. But I think you did the right thing, as horrible and hellish as it must have been for you.'
'I could have stopped her murder.'
'And gotten a dozen other people killed.' Iris shook her head, aching for him. 'You know you couldn't have done that.'
He slammed his hand down on the table, 'Well, I should have been able to do something.' Tears glittered in his eyes. 'She looked at me. Right in the eye. She saw me watching.'
Pain, distilled to sharp clarity, ripped through Iris's heart, so distinct, so strong she wasn't sure if it was Maddox's pain or her own.
'Maddox, don't-'
'Do you want to understand or don't you?' His voice rose, tight with rage. 'This is what happened. Iris. You want so bad to look at it. You're just gonna have to gut it out, because I'm gonna tell you exactly what went down that day.'
She sat back in the chair, wrapping her arms around herself. He was out of control now, trapped in a nightmare from his past. He needed to walk through it, step by step, if he was ever going to really escape, and she was just going to have to be strong enough to watch him do it.
She saw Moira start to get up and move toward them, but she met the woman's worried gaze and shook her head. Moira sat down again, gazing toward them with silent concern.
'The al-Adar terrorists hit in a series of coordinated attacks. God knows how long they'd been planning it. They took out Headley-the ambassador-and his security crew first. Brand and Headley survived the car bomb, but the terrorists shot them down while Brand was trying to get the ambassador to safety.'
Iris nodded. Those details were in the Web sites she'd read. 'You weren't on duty.'
His lips curved in a horrible facsimile of a smile. 'I'd pulled a night shift and was too keyed up to sleep yet. I was playing poker with a couple of MSGs and one of the embassy's assistant RSOs who was off duty too.'
'Nicholas Darcy.'
He nodded. 'A third RSO, who was on duty, was killed first thing when the truck bomb hit the embassy. Nine MSGs were taken out at the same time. Only those of us who'd been off duty survived. We split up and started trying to find survivors.'
'It must have been chaotic.'
He gave a bleak laugh. 'Ever waded through body parts? You try so hard not to step on anything-anyone-'
'Maddox-' She clutched his hand, but he jerked it away.
'Cavanaugh took over as acting ambassador when we got word about Headley and Brand. And Cavanaugh ordered everyone to stand down. Stay put. Wait for outside reinforcements.'
'But you didn't.'
'No. I didn't. See. I'd just found twelve people huddling in a back room. They were scared to go out, but the place was on tire. There was smoke everywhere, terrorists crawling through the place looking for survivors to murder-' A visible shudder rippled through him.
'You were right to ignore the order, Maddox. You saved those people. Your only crime was in making Cavanaugh look bad. He made you the scapegoat to cover his own backside-'
'Stop it, Iris! Stop parroting those Web sites!' He narrowed his eyes. 'Don't pretend there's not more to it. If you read those pages, you know there is.'
She closed her eyes against the bitterness in his gaze, but he caught her chin and save her a shake. 'Look at me. Iris.'
She squeezed her eyes more tightly shut.
He slid his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her across the table toward him. 'Look at me'
She made herself open her eyes. He stared back at her, only a few inches away. His agony slid into her, thick and oily, making her stomach rebel. She swallowed hard to stamp down the nausea and held his gaze, knowing she'd asked for the truth.
This was the truth. It wasn't pretty and it wasn't easy, but if he could get through it, so could she.
'Teresa Miles was an interpreter. She was twenty-five. So damned young. She had short blond hair and big green eyes the color of the sea on a sunny day. She was from Iowa. A sweet little corn-fed American girl who just wanted an adventure.'
He looked away from Iris, letting go of her neck. She slid back in her chair, watching him through narrowed eyes.
'She got separated from everybody else in her section. I don't know if they ever figured out how.'
'She'd gone to the restroom.' Iris answered quietly.
He looked up at her, 'I never heard one way or the other. They were still investigating everything at the time I got out.'
'I guess you haven't kept up with the findings of the congressional investigation.'
'No. I testified just before I left the States. I didn't want to think about it anymore.' He took a deep breath. 'But I can't seem to do anything but think about it these days.'
'Is this why you're so suspicious of Tahir Mahmoud? You obviously think he may have been involved.'
He rubbed his jaw, his palm scraping against the day's growth of beard. 'I think he killed Teresa.'
Iris stared at him. 'I thought you didn't see her killer. They were wearing head coverings over their faces-'
'The scar on his wrist.' Maddox's voice sounded hoarse.
Understanding dawned. 'You were staring at it yesterday.'
'Teresa's killer had that same scar.'
She frowned. 'You saw it from where you were hidden?'
'We were hidden closer than you think.' He licked his lips looking down at his glass of tea. 'Less than ten yards away. And you know how dark his skin is. Believe me, that white scar was plenty visible.'
'Ten yards away.' she repeated, horror rippling down her spine. That close-
'Front row seat.' he grated. 'Arterial blood can really shoot across a room-'
'Stop!'
'It's okay. I'm done.' Maddox pushed himself out his chair, stumbling a little as he lurched toward the exit. Iris
