Silver Linings

they still came as quick jabs in the gut. Perhaps that was because there were times when he had the same reaction to his own past.
    A hired gun. A man who signed on to fight somebody else's war, carry out somebody else's vendetta. For cold, hard cash, up front .
    People from Mattie's world, where the big battles were all verbal ones fought over weighty questions of artistic merit, could only be expected to recoil in horror from such a truth. In Mattie's world a man could be forgiven for showing up for a date with paint stains on his hands, but not old blood.
    In Mattie's world a man did not make a living at warfare.
    In Mattie's world a man was expected to have a civilized past.
    In Mattie's world there would be no place for a man like the one Hugh had once been.
    Hugh was aware of the old, familiar chill in his gut. He could hear it reflected in his voice. The cold sensation was automatic after all these years. It was a way of protecting himself when things were about to turn very bad. He could hardly feel anything at all when he went real cold like this.
    Hugh kept his gaze fixed on Mattie's reflection, waiting impatiently now for the look in her eyes to change to one of shock and disgust; waiting for her to turn away from him.
    He was waiting, as usual, for things to turn very, very bad, the way they had so often over the course of his life.
    “Obviously not your sort of work,” she said thoughtfully, her brows drawing together in a considering fashion. “It wouldn't really suit you at all.”
    “Not my sort of work?” Hugh stared at her, open-mouthed and momentarily speechless. “Uh…well…” There was no point telling her he'd been damn good at that kind of work, he decided. He was not especially proud of that fact. And she was right, the job hadn't proud of that fact. And she was right, the job hadn't suited him at all, even if he had been competent at it.
    “Silk was also part of this team run by Jack Rainbird?” Mattie asked.
    “Yeah. And Paul Cormier. Silk and I were in charge of logistics. We were responsible for figuring out how to get the team in and back out again once a job was done.” Hugh spoke slowly, his mind still on Mattie's unexpected reaction to his grand confession. “Rainbird dealt with the client, took the money, and gave us our shares. It was run sort of like a corporation in that respect.”
    “Who were the clients?”
    Hugh shrugged. “CIA as often as not. Or some front operation they were backing.”
    “A nasty lot.”
    “The work is steady. They pay well. And on time,” Hugh told her, his voice harsh.
    “Well, of course. They could hardly expect people to continue taking risks doing their disgusting little jobs all over the world for them if they didn't pay well and on time, could they?” Mattie asked practically. “What happened in the end? Why do you hate Rainbird so much?”
    “He betrayed the team.”
    “Betrayed you?” For the first Mattie really did look shocked. “How did he do that?”
    Hugh shrugged. “He took the client's money, as usual, but he also took money from the opposition. The opposition was paying better, I guess. Or maybe they had something more valuable to offer. Who knows? Maybe Rainbird just wanted out of the business and thought he'd take the opportunity to cash out big. But the net result was that he set all of us up on that last raid. The opposition knew when, where, and how we were going to be coming in, and they were waiting.”
    “Oh, my God, Hugh.”
    “Silk, Paul, and I and a couple of other guys made it out alive. But we lost most of the team.”
    “And Rainbird?”
    “He vanished. Word was he'd been killed by the opposition after he'd pulled his little trick. That was a logical possibility. Silk and I and the others assumed it was probably true. After all, the guys who'd paid him off to betray the operation knew better than anyone else they couldn't trust him.”
    “I suppose that's true.”
    “The only thing a mercenary has to sell is his sword and his guarantee of loyalty. Both belong to the client for the duration of the contract. Once he gets a reputation for changing employers in midstream, business has a way of declining.”
    “Yes. I can understand that,” Mattie said weakly. She sank down onto the couch. “So you all thought he was dead.”
    “He knew he had better be dead as far as we were concerned,” Hugh said.
    “I see. Because he knew that those of you who had survived his betrayal would hunt him