Chapter 6
Twenty minutes later, the enemy fire faded into the distance.
Relief vehicles rolled in.
Medics flooded the outpost.
Dust settled slowly over the wreckage.
The A-10 circled once more, then climbed into the sun.
Riley’s voice came through one last time.
“Vindicator elements, Tusker Zero-Four. You’re clear for extraction.”
Sergeant Cole looked at the sky.
“Copy, Tusker. We owe you.”
A pause.
Then Riley answered.
“No. Bring them home. That’s enough.”
The radio clicked off.
Dayne closed his eyes.
For a moment, he almost looked human.
Then a medical officer rushed to him.
“Colonel, we need to get you out.”
Dayne grabbed the man’s sleeve.
“Where is Captain Shaw landing?”
“Forward strip, sir.”
Dayne’s jaw tightened.
He was injured.
Humiliated.
Alive because of the person he had tried to belittle.
And worst of all, there had been witnesses.
Too many.
By nightfall, the surviving soldiers were evacuated to the forward operations base.
Dayne walked into the debriefing tent with his arm bandaged, his uniform torn, and his pride trying desperately to stand taller than his body.
Senior officers were waiting.
So was Riley.
She stood near the map table in her flight suit, helmet under one arm, dust still on her boots.
Her face was calm.
Not smug.
Not cruel.
That somehow made it worse.
Dayne entered like he still owned the room.
“Before anyone starts rewriting what happened,” he said, “I want the record to show I requested immediate air support and maintained command under fire.”
No one answered.
Brigadier General Harris sat at the end of the table, hands folded.
May you like
“We’ll get to the record, Colonel.”
Read Part 7 to hear the recording that destroyed Dayne’s version of the battle.
