“We weren’t certain what—or who—we were facing.” His face went ashen. “We killed innocent people.” “They weren’t innocent.” Bishop bent double, breathing hard. His breath expelled in crystalized clouds. “I killed a man. Not a soldier, not an enemy insurgent. Just a guy. A husband, a brother, a father.” Liam felt sickened, too, but he couldn’t wallow in regret, guilt, and recrimination. A soldier lost himself that way. They’d done what they had to in the moment. They’d acted on the intel available. It was the best a man could do. You had to let go of the rest, or it would eat you alive.
