Chapter 1 - The Gate
Captain Thorn stabbed his finger inches from my face while Rook pressed his shoulder against my left leg and stared at him like he already knew the man was dangerous. Behind us, a Humvee roared through the dust toward the gate, and medics were dragging the first wounded SEAL onto a stretcher.
“Put her in restraints,” Thorn barked. “She abandoned her unit.”
I did not answer.
My lips were cracked from thirst. My knees were torn through the fabric of my camo pants. My hair was stiff with desert dust and dried blood from a cut I could barely feel anymore. I had walked thirty-two kilometers through heat, rock, and enemy ground with Rook at my side and three wounded men alive because I refused to leave them in that valley.
Thorn saw a filthy young woman in torn gear.
He did not see what had followed me back.
A medic rushed past with Carver on a stretcher. I reached out with one steady hand and touched the frame.
“Carver needs surgery within six hours,” I said hoarsely.
Sergeant Major Dale Pruitt stepped between Thorn and the medics. His eyes moved over Carver’s bandages, the field dressing, the improvised brace, the tourniquet placement. His face hardened.
He turned to Thorn.
“Captain, that woman kept those men alive.”
Thorn’s jaw tightened. “She refused to identify herself.”
For the first time, I looked directly at him.
“My name and unit are above your clearance.”
The arriving Humvee stopped in a cloud of dust. Every soldier at the gate stiffened as General Marcus Holt stepped out.
He looked at me.
Then at Rook.
“Ghost Actual,” he said. “Report.”
May you like
Thorn went pale.
The gate fell silent.
