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It was one thing to know Alex had changed this past year. It was another entirely to know she was responsible for it. It was a whole lot harder to blame him for being the way he was, now.

What had Roman wanted with him yesterday, anyway? She’d heard Alex speaking, low and angry, in Russian while she comforted Oscar. And why the abrupt reversal of course to Baracoa after the call?

Curiosity made her impatient for Alex to wake up so she could quiz him on what was going on. Assuming, of course, that he would tell her the truth. That might be an optimistic assumption on her part.

Something moved outside and she lurched to alertness. Gripping the pistol tightly, she eased back deeper into the shadows of the shed. As if he had radar for it even when unconscious, Alex’s arm came around her from behind, startling her. Dang, he was quiet. His hand closed over hers on the pistol.

She relinquished the weapon gratefully, and he moved silently in front of her. She backed into the shed and fumbled in the pack for the other pistol and spare clips of ammunition.

She jerked violently when Alex shot fast from the doorway, two sets of double-taps one after the other so quickly she could barely count the four shots.Holy shit. He’d justshotsomeone.

He moved outside as fast as a snake. She yanked the spare pistol free of the rucksack and followed him out, the weapon chest-high in front of her and her heart in her throat.

“Clear,” he bit out.

She lowered her pistol and watched him feel for a pulse under the neck of …crap…a soldier. A second motionless body in a uniform crumpled not far from the first one.

“You killed Cuban soldiers?” she wailed in dismay.

“They were looters. Not military.”

“How could you tell?”

“No belts. Hair too long. The one with the shotgun held it wrong.”

“You shot them because they had no belts?” she demanded incredulously.

“I shot them because they weren’t who they appeared to be, and they were headed for our shelter. Given the current situation, it’s logical to assume they were here to loot it. Which meant they were at least casual criminals. Which meant you would’ve been in danger from them.”

“So you killed them?” He wasn’t showing even a hint of remorse over shooting those men.

“So I killed them.”

“Does it feel good playing Rambo?” she muttered. What the hell had happened to him? The Alex she’d known before he left was first and foremost a healer. He fought to save lives, not to casually take them. Whowasthis man?

He didn’t respond to her sarcasm and merely said grimly, “Pass me that shovel behind you.”

“Hiding the evidence?” she asked dryly.

“Yes.”

“My God. You’re not kidding, are you?”

He glanced up from where his shovel bit into the soft earth of what had likely been a garden. “Spy Craft 101. If you kill someone, hide the body. There’s no need to make your trail any easier to follow than you have to.”

“You just murdered those men!” she exclaimed. She could not believe he wasn’t reacting at all to that small fact.

“And last night I saved the lives of several people. Your point?” he snapped as he shoveled.

“Don’t you feel anything at all?”

That made him stop shoveling long enough to look up at her. “Feelings interfere with optimal performance. If I’m going to keep you safe and get you out of here alive, I have to be on my A-game.” He shrugged and went back to shoveling. “It was a no-brainer.”

And a no-hearter, too, apparently. Color her stunned.

“Look, Katie. Killing isn’t something ever to do lightly. I get that. But this is not a normal situation. We’ve been sent into the aftermath of a devastating storm to look for something dangerous. All the normal, everyday people have left the area. It’s a good bet most of the people who’ve returned to this place already are not looking to rebuild their lives and practice good citizenship. This is, in effect, a war zone. The rules of engagement are different.”

She reluctantly conceded that his logic might be sound. But still, it rankled with her. She grabbed a spade and started shoveling beside him.