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Edwards hesitated.
    “Your friend, Roach, is dead,” he said. “He died an hour ago at Vertigo Ravine.”
    The ground shifted beneath Mark’s feet. The world paused in its revolutions. Mark just stared. He blinked. Then he shook his head.
    “No,” he said.
    He felt the chords in his throat vibrate, but he was certain it couldn’t have been his voice that came out. It was too calm.
    “He was with us this morning,” he said. “You must have him mixed up with someone else.”
    “I’m afraid not,” Major Edwards said. “It was his truck that was involved in the accident. He was seen getting into it at the bar. The driver of the lorry he swerved to avoid positively identified him. I’m sorry.”
    Operating in the theater of war, Mark was used to seeing death, but never so far from the battlefield. Never on home soil.
    “I realize this must come as quite a shock,” Major Edwards said.
    Mark let out a deep lungful of air, his hands clasped over the top of his head. With no other outlet, Mark directed his anger inward, at himself. It was his fault. He was responsible for his team. There must have been something he did wrong.
    “How?” Mark said, his voice tight.
    “Car accident,” Major Edwards said. “He was going too fast and spun the wheel to avoid a truck driver changing a spare.”
    Mark shook his head. It was nonsensical.
    “It’s always tough, losing a comrade,” Major Edwards said.
    “He should have died in the field,” Mark said.
    “Everywhere is the field now,” Major Edwards said. “Every day a fight for survival. You never know when your number is going to be called. That’s why it’s important to live every moment like it’s your last.”
    “Was it fast?” Mark said.
    “Instantaneous,” Major Edwards said. “He was a good soldier.”
    “He was a great soldier,” Mark said. “Everything a soldier should be. Loyal, hardworking, fierce. Everything Daoud isn't.”
    Daoud. Yes. He could be the scapegoat for Mark’s anger and pain. He funneled it all at the lanky streak of piss.
    “Have you spent the time to get to know him?” Major Edwards said. “The way you have the rest of your team?”
    “No,” Mark said.
    “Then you can't know him the way you say you do,” Major Edwards said. “That wasn't the way you were raised and it certainly wasn't the way you were trained.”
    He was right, as usual. The bonds formed during war were different to those formed under any other kind of experience. Going through it together formed connections that couldn’t be matched, even with a lifelong partner. Under pressure, with your life on the line, you learnt what kind of person you were.
    “You can’t replace him,” Mark said.
    “Replace whom?” Major Edwards said.
    “Roach,” Mark said.
    “Of course not,” Major Edwards said. “That wasn’t my intention.”
    “We can’t have Daoud on our team,” Mark said.
    “No one else is available,” Major Edwards said.
    “Then we won’t go,” Mark said.
    “You will,” Major Edwards said, his voice cold and hard as steel. “You’re under orders. Besides, he’s a good sniper. You don’t waste talent like that.”
    “You do when it puts the rest of us in danger,” Mark said.
    The major pursed his lips.
    “I’m aware of Daoud’s history,” he said. “I’ll have a word with him. Remind him what his priority should be.”
    “If he needs reminding, he shouldn’t be here,” Mark said.
    “Sometimes things aren’t as simple on the ground,” Major Edwards said. “Sometimes we need to make the unpopular decision.”
    Mark shook his head. A soldier’s responsibility was to the rest of his unit. It was drilled into them from the moment they arrived at training school. It was not something you needed to choose. It was automatic. You just did it.
    “Roach was… different on the last tour,” Mark said.
    “We all change,” Major Edwards said. “Service ages you. Look at me. I’m really twenty-five.”
    The major’s attempt