Love in crossfire

pte

Dark,

for him to look at her with something more than just hunger in his eyes. Moreover, because he had not yet. She painted her lips crimson with a match, telling the other girls, "He's different." He is broken in the best possible way. like a glass you drink from even though you bleed from it. She would make the girls giggle and call her mad, but they didn't get it. Jone didn't want to be loved. She wanted to leave a legacy. Additionally, being the woman who subdued Williams Brown was the kind of legend for which one need not have lived to be remembered. Pedro Martinez Williams lived like a monk across the camp, where the music stopped before it started and the lanterns flickered less. Despite being close to the Commander's, his tent was quiet, neat, and almost holy. Pedro read at night, not intelligence briefings but actual books. He did not preach; rather, they referred to him as "Father Pedro" because he listened to them. His eyes could see right through lies and he was tall with graying temples. No one knew why the Commander had more faith in him than anyone else. He was said by some to be Williams Brown's half-brother. Before they both vanished into the jungle, others claimed that they had fought together in Colombia. Pedro never denied or confirmed anything. Pedro, in contrast to Jone, was bound by an invisible code. He only drank water. The women were not touched by him. He prayed quietly. But Pedro, not the Commander, knew the names of the children who were hidden in the refugee tents beyond the perimeter, calmed the camp when supplies were low, treated wounds when the doctor was drunk, and so on. Jone once made a personal approach to him, more out of curiosity than attraction. She said, squatting next to his fire, "You kno

y, she has been spending more time than you woul

someone. And if we are unable to identify who-" The morning was pierced by a s