Capture

The Full Truth

"He knew the risks?" Liam's voice was low, sharp, disbelief dripping from every word.

Niall's eyes flicked to Liam. "When he signed up for this job... yes."

Liam snapped, fury rising like a tide. "This wasn't a job. It was a rescue mission."

Niall's jaw tightened, pain and rage mixing in his gaze. "I don't like leaving men behind either, Liam, but I had no choice."

"Yes, you did!" Liam's voice cracked as he exploded. "You didn't have to leave him there!"

Niall's voice went cold, sharp like a blade. "Hey, Payne, you're the one who got us into this mess to begin with."

"I wanted to go! I begged you! But you wouldn't let me. If I had been there... if I'd been there, Zayn would still be alive!"

"If you were there, you'd be dead!" Niall's voice broke, shaking with fury and grief. "Four years... four long years! Don't pretend you were a better friend to him than I was!" Blood trickled from his ears, the rawness of his injuries making his shouting almost desperate. His face was twisted—half pain, half madness.

"Horan," Harry said quietly from behind Niall, but firmly, like a warning.

"Four years? What the hell does that even mean?" Liam spat, his gaze bouncing from Harry to Niall and back, confusion and anger warring in his eyes.

"Niall," Harry warned again.

"Shut up, Harry." Niall turned sharply, eyes blazing. "He already knows, don't you, Liam?"

Liam's face was pale, his jaw clenched. "Was any of it truthful?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Niall exhaled shakily. "I only lied about my job."

Liam laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. "That's a pretty big lie, Niall."

"It was top secret." Niall answered calmly.

"Zayn too?" Liam's voice cracked, grief beginning to rise behind the rage.

Niall nodded once, solemn. "Yeah. He was one of us. Embedded, just like me. Just like Harry."

My heart began to pound in my chest. Embedded? I looked between them, confusion dawning in my eyes, thick and suffocating. "Wait. What... what do you mean 'embedded'?" My voice was small and unsteady.

Niall blinked, realizing only then that I was still behind him. Watching, listening and piecing it all together. "You work at Capture Studios," she said, like saying it aloud would somehow stop it from crumbling. "You're a photographer. You—We ate lunch together. We joked about management. We carpooled."

"Emma..." Niall started, but my eyes were wide now, darting between him and Harry like they were strangers.

"You work with me, Niall! You know my favorite coffee order, you've seen me cry in the break room—what the hell do you mean, you're a Marshall?"

The word sounded foreign in my mouth. Wrong and out of place in their story.

"For God's sake, you helped when I was trapped on the roof!" she shouted suddenly, the hurt now cracking through her voice. "You invited me to go out with your friends, to the pubs!"

"I didn't fake that," Niall said quickly. "None of that was fake, Emma."

"But it was based on a lie," she snapped, her face flushing as a thousand tiny memories turned to ash in her mind. "Everything I thought I knew about you—every normal thing—was built on a cover story. Was I just a mark? A suitor of the target?"