— “Warthog inbound.” Those two words changed everything. We didn’t know who you were. Didn’t care. Any help was better than dying alone in that godforsaken valley.
Fletcher pulled a folded, sweat-stained piece of paper from his cargo pocket, unfolded it with careful reverence.
— But then Sergeant Morrison identified you. Called you Valkyrie. And everything changed again—because I knew that name. Every SEAL who’s been in the Teams for more than five years knows that name.
He paused, and Grace could see him fighting for control.
— August 19th, 2011. Objective Rhino. I was a petty officer second class then. On my second deployment. Young and stupid and thinking I was invincible. When that valley turned into hell and three SEAL teams got pinned down by overwhelming force—when the quick reaction force couldn’t reach us through the enemy positions, when we’d accepted we were done—you flew in.
His voice broke slightly.
