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datatime: 2022-12-01 02:45:22 Author:ZRrLZFit

So you see, Louis said, our two missions are not so different. Only who benefits-the U.S. military complex or a French pharmaceutical company. Which in turn raises the question, who would do the greater good with the knowledge? He shrugged. Who can say? But conversely, we might ask-who would do the greater harm? Louis eyed the sergeant. And I think we can all answer that one:

Everything was running with a clockwork precision. Louis would have it no other way.

In fact, he found himself somewhat respecting the young man. Throughout the journey here, Nathan had demonstrated both ingenuity and a stout heart, even dispatching Louis's spy. And finally, here at the end, he had proven his loyalty, with a willingness to sacrifice his own life for his team. Admirable qualities, even if they were directed at cross purposes to Louis's own.

A distinct quiet settled over the group.

Raising an arm, Louis pointed back to the small group of men gathered around the giant tree. They were his own demolitions team. Against the white bark of the trunk, the Rangers' remaining nine minibombs appeared like flat black eyes peering toward them. Thanks to the U.S. government, there's enough firepower here to wipe out even a giant monster of a tree like this one:

What is he talking about? Nate asked, directing the question to the sergeant. We're well past secrets now, Kostos. If you know something . . :

Nathan Rand's gaze was as hard as the Rangers; but there was a glint of something more. A vein of icy determination.

Nate finally spoke. What about Kelly and Frank?

Louis removed a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow. I swore as a gentleman that I wouldn't kill you or your friends. And I will honor my word:'

So you see, Louis said, our two missions are not so different. Only who benefits-the U.S. military complex or a French pharmaceutical company. Which in turn raises the question, who would do the greater good with the knowledge? He shrugged. Who can say? But conversely, we might ask-who would do the greater harm? Louis eyed the sergeant. And I think we can all answer that one:

Nathan Rand's gaze was as hard as the Rangers; but there was a glint of something more. A vein of icy determination.

In fact, he found himself somewhat respecting the young man. Throughout the journey here, Nathan had demonstrated both ingenuity and a stout heart, even dispatching Louis's spy. And finally, here at the end, he had proven his loyalty, with a willingness to sacrifice his own life for his team. Admirable qualities, even if they were directed at cross purposes to Louis's own.

Louis had a hard time maintaining eye contact with the man, but he refused to look away. In Nathan's face, he saw a shadow of the man's father: the sandy hair, the planes of the cheek, the shape of his nose. But this was not Carl Rand. And to Louis's surprise, this disappointed him. The satisfaction he had expected to feel at having Carl's son kneeling at his feet was hollow.

Satisfied, he strode over to the line of segregated prisoners, the survivors of the Ranger team, baking and burning under the sun. They sat slightly apart from the remaining members of the Ban-ali tribe.

Everything was running with a clockwork precision. Louis would have it no other way.

Louis stared at his catch, slightly disappointed that they hadn't offered more of a challenge. The two Rangers glared back at him murderously. The small Asian anthropologist had calmed significantly, eyes closed, lips moving in prayer, resigned. Kouwe sat stoically. Louis stopped in front of the last prisoner in the lineup.

In fact, he found himself somewhat respecting the young man. Throughout the journey here, Nathan had demonstrated both ingenuity and a stout heart, even dispatching Louis's spy. And finally, here at the end, he had proven his loyalty, with a willingness to sacrifice his own life for his team. Admirable qualities, even if they were directed at cross purposes to Louis's own.

Everything was running with a clockwork precision. Louis would have it no other way.

What is he talking about? Nate asked, directing the question to the sergeant. We're well past secrets now, Kostos. If you know something . . :

Louis shook his head and took two steps to reach Sergeant Kostos. I think that question should be answered by your companion here:

I'll leave your deaths to the U.S. military, he said sadly, the emotion surprisingly unfeigned.

Satisfied, he strode over to the line of segregated prisoners, the survivors of the Ranger team, baking and burning under the sun. They sat slightly apart from the remaining members of the Ban-ali tribe.

Louis bent down at the waist and stared into the sergeant's face. Really . . , are you saying Captain Waxman didn't confide in his staff sergeant?

What are you going to do with us? Nate said. It was not a plea, but a simple question.

Kostos hung his head, as well he should.

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