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.”