They called her a cargo pilot. Told her to stay in her lane. Until the bullets started flying and 12 Navy SEALS faced certain death. Then she stepped forward. What they didn’t know about her past changed everything. And what she did next left the entire operations center speechless.

— Sir, I need those grid coordinates confirmed. November Papa 7345. Echo Golf 8219.

Harris blinked at her.

— How do you—

— Is that correct, sir?

— Yes, but—

— Then with respect, time is the asset we’re bleeding right now.

She straightened, meeting his eyes for the first time.

— That A-10 on the flight line is fueled and armed. I can provide close air support while we wait for the fast movers.

Major Reed stepped between them.

— Absolutely not. You’re a contractor. You fly supplies. You have zero combat experience on your record.

— Ma’am—

— Don’t “ma’am” me. Stay in your lane, Whitaker.

The radio screamed.

— Contact! Contact! They’re in the wire! Razor 6 is engaged danger close!

The transmission dissolved into the rapid percussion of M4 carbines on full automatic.

Harris grabbed the handset with both hands.