Saul arrived an hour early to the secluded loch on the smury Sunday morning. The cold settled quickly and deeply into his chest, buzzing and burning through him as he wandered around, stopping to handle a cold stone or trace a tree’s bark. A broad fog floated between the heavy sky and lifeless water, and though Saul had played by the loch as a child, today the area haunted and chilled him. Any movement or sound jolted him, and he would whip around unsteadily, searching for his brother or a nearby animal, even minutes after the gust of wind or snapping of branch had collapsed into the air.

When Saul reached the opposite shore of the loch, he rested against a tree in a small clearing of grass surrounded by thick burgundy bush. He and Bryan used to jump in the thick, springy bushes that covered most of the ground, tripping and chasing each other until the air chilled their lungs. They would then sprawl out on the bed of bushes, watch the sky, and talk about who they could be and what they could do.

As Saul played through memories, a nearby rustling jerked Saul to his feet, and before he could look around the tree, something heavy clapped against his back, sending sharpness through his head and tears into his eyes.

“Saul, Saul, Saul,” Bryan said. “Didn’t mean to startle you there, bud.” Saul rolled his eyes around and shook his head, forcing away the tears and regaining orientation. “So, big brother, how’s life going? Or should I say ending?”

Saul’s vision was clearing. “Did you really come all this way to be a jackass?”

“No, I came all this way per your request, and I’d be a little nicer to your last living relative if I were you.”    Bryan’s face used to be rich and smooth as caramel but now was dark and flecked.

“I don’t know what I was thinking…”

“Listen here, you old brute, don’t talk to me about your depression or your dying.” His once lively amber brown eyes had dimmed. “I hope you didn’t expect me to come here and reconcile things with you. You couldn’t have been that thick.” There wasn’t even a glimmer of amber left.

“Bryan, don’t do that. Don’t turn this all on me.”

“I’m not turning anything around. Don’t matter to me either way. I’m not the one with the problem.”

“Never were, were you? Nothing was ever wrong with you or Dad.”

“So this is it, then? This is what you summoned me here for?”

“I’m crazy.” Saul shook his head, massaging his forehead. “I must be going crazy.”

Bryan crossed his arms but didn’t interrupt.

“Listen, Bryan, I wanted to ask you for—” Bryan smirked. “not for me, for my family—a bit of money.”

Bryan dropped his arms. “I knew it. It’s all about the money in the end, isn’t it Saul? Didn’t want to believe me, did you?”

“It’s got nothing to do with that.”

“Really? Sure doesn’t look that way from where I’m standing.”

Bitterness squeezed through Saul’s mouth. “Move then.”

“You want my answer, old brute? You want to know what I’m going to say?”

“No.”

“You have to earn it.”

“The answer?”

“You really are slow; you know that? You have to earn the money.”

“How clever, Bryan. You don’t think I’ve thought of that?” He should have known. He should have expected it. Why would a six-hour flight change anything? “I’m dying, you moron. Forget it, just forget I ever called.”

“If you’re finished wining,” he said with the smoothness that once lived in his skin. “I have a solution for you.”

“Bryan…”

“But only if you’ll work with me.”

Bryan waited for his response, but Saul only flattened his lips together, breathed deeply, and stared at him without faith.

“Here’s the deal. You can help us, and we can help you.”

Saul’s nostrils opened, jaw tightened, and ears squeezed into the back of his head. “I want nothing to do with that…”

“Saul, Saul, Saul,” he lullabied. “Let me finish before you get all excited.” Bryan reached for Saul’s left shoulder and rubbed along his arm, but Saul pulled away.

“Don’t humor me; get to the point.”

“We need more attackers.”

Saul let his breath burst from him. “Never. I would never stoop down…”

“Let me finish, brother of mine…”

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you never one of them? Too damned perfect, right?”

“Too damned needed, actually.”

Saul held himself back, though his chest and lower back tightened and shook from deep inside.

“Listen, Saul, I can promise your family enough money to last two or three years if well spent. And before you interrupt me, I want you to think for a minute. What have you done in your life? What will you leave your family with?”

“More than you could leave.”

“Don’t act like you’re any better than me. Don’t you understand? We are the exact same; we’re no different than our father was.”

Saul’s eyes squinted and fists tightened at the mention of his father.

“Here’s the deal. I can be the one to pack the vest for your suicide bomb. I won’t fill it with nails or ball bearings or anything that will kill tons of people. Your family will still get paid; we’ll still scare the shit out of London. Everybody wins.”

“London? Why London? And that’s just a suicide, not an attack.”

“London was our next target. The people in the station won’t think it’s a suicide. They’ll think the bomb malfunctioned.”

“The station?”

“King’s Cross.”

“Why should I trust you, Bryan? Why the hell should I believe you won’t set me up to kill a hundred people?”

“Because I wouldn’t lie to you, brother.” Bryan steamed through Saul’s attempts to interrupt. “You’re forgetting, I’m not the one with the problem. I always tell you the truth, no matter how direct. Have a little faith in something, Saul.”

“You have never…”

“When have I lied to you? Name one time.”

Rage threatened to explode from him, but he could not name a specific instance. His throat tightened, his muscles stiffened.

“How much?”

“Eh, £50,000. Give or take a few thousand.”

“£50,000.” The idea of the money layered through the rage.