Flynn walked with Reese through crowded market, but Flynn couldn’t help but notice that Reese walked with a decided limp in his left leg, and took the opportunity to rub at his thigh any time they looked over the wares in a stall.
“Not quite,” Reese began. “I was a bystander. Authorities pursued a fugitive, and he fired blindly to get away. His pulse bolt blew up a car and I caught a piece of shrapnel in my leg. It caused some nerve damage.”
“Oh, no!” The woman passed over a pastry to Reese.
Flynn waited expectantly, but he received no pastry.
“It’s quite all right. The authorities caught him, and I get around well enough.” Reese rubbed the thigh muscle more vigorously, but still took a bite of the pastry.
“Well, you take care,” she smiled.
“I shall, and thank you for the pastry.” He brushed crumbs from his lips.
When they got out of earshot of the stall, Flynn asked, “So what was that about?”
“Captain, lying is not an art or an exercise in elaborate engineering, it is a habit, one that must be practiced as frequently as breathing.”
“I knew there was a reason I never joined Alliance Intelligence.”