My movement must have startled the woman because she was suddenly sitting up beside me, gaze wildly searching the surrounding grove of trees for a threat. Her hand curled around my bicep in a vice-like grip, her fingernails digging into my skin.
“What’s wrong? What’s happened? Are they here?” Her voice was high and breathy, panic sharpening the edges of her words.
“They’re not here. It’s okay.” I kept my voice calm, lacking any intonation that might startle her in her current state. Her chest rose and fell rapidly with anxious breaths.
“No one’s here,” I repeated, placing a hand over hers and squeezing it to add support to my words. “I just realized who those men who attacked us were.”
Her gaze snapped toward my face, her eyes wide and surprised. “You do? Who were they?”
For a moment, I considered not saying anything. I shouldn’t—this was highly classified information, some of which even I wasn’t privy to, and she was only a civilian. I didn’t know her name or anything about her except that she was a marine biologist.
But she was caught up in the middle of this, and there was no guarantee that we would get off the island alive. She had to know so, if she was the only one to survive, the information could get to the right people.
This information was too important. It was the difference between peace and war.