He inwardly grimaced because he wasn’t a liar, and he hadn’t lied to her in so many words. Only because he hadn’t offered her much in the way of words at all. He couldn’t see her as human. An innocent. Someone who deserved saving because her life meant something and the world would lose one of the good. Because if he allowed himself those dangerous emotions, they’d interfere with vengeance for hundreds of thousands who had no other to carry out justice for them. Not to mention the ones who would follow. Who hadn’t yet fallen victim to the brand of violence Maksimov sold—and inspired—on a daily basis. Those were the faceless people he allowed to infiltrate his conscience and take permanent root. Not a single woman—a martyr to his cause. He wouldn’t turn his back on the masses when so many others had—and would continue to do so.
He hadn’t promised this woman ultimate salvation or even that he’d get her safely home. All he’d told her was one simple truth. That he wasn’t going to allow her to be captured by A New Era. He’d said nothing further, leaving her to decipher what she would of the one promise he had made her. A promise he would absolutely keep. Or die trying.
And when the time came to . . . betray . . . her, he wouldn’t lie to her then either. He had to prevent the scowl from forming on his face at the idea that he was betraying anyone. It wasn’t betrayal to save the majority at the cost of one single person, woman or man. That kind of thinking was what had fucked up the last two opportunities he’d had to take Maksimov out for good, and he’d be damned if it would happen again. He wasn’t a goddamn hero. He was the face and bringer of justice. Nothing more.
She would know that her fate meant something, though. That her life meant something—everything. Whether it gave her solace or not, he couldn’t control, but he wouldn’t allow her to think that her death was yet another senseless, meaningless statistic. And he would, as tribute to her bravery and sacrifice, send word to her family, letting them know their daughter, their sister, hadn’t died for nothing. She would, if Hancock’s plan was executed and carried out successfully, save too many innocent lives to count.
When Honor still looked expectantly at him, her eyes narrowing at his prolonged silence, he remembered that she’d asked, or rather demanded, to know who he was. He supposed she deserved that at least. And it would give credence to the idea that he and his men had been sent to extricate her, though he wouldn’t actively cultivate that lie. What conclusions she drew were of her own making.
“I’m Hancock,” he said simply. “And the men surrounding you are my team. They’re highly skilled. The best. They won’t let any harm come to you as we journey to a safer place.”
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she studied him intently. She didn’t like his vagueness, and furthermore she knew he was holding something back. In addition to being tenacious and extremely courageous, she had a sharp, intelligent mind and she was adept at reading people.
He sighed inwardly. It was never easy. He wanted to have no respect or admiration for this woman. He didn’t want to feel anything at all. It would have been far better if she had been a hysterical, mindless, incompetent twit. He could summon disdain and annoyance for such a person. But he respected a fighting spirit. Bravery in the face of overwhelming terror. And the refusal to back down even when confronting insurmountable obstacles. These were traits he not only admired but had actively cultivated in all the men serving him. It had been ingrained in him, first by his foster parents, and later by the man who’d been Titan’s first leader. Rio. The man who’d trained Hancock and taught him the necessary skills to be the ultimate fighting—and thinking—machine. Because battles were won not by brute force alone, but by strategy and the ability to correctly assess the enemy. By pushing detrimental emotion aside and feeling nothing at all. By becoming more machine than man.
“Just where is this ‘safe place’?” she asked suspiciously.
“I’ll let you know when we get there.”