Four months of sitting around doing nothing, training for all the possibilities that might present themselves, and we finally have a chance to get home.
Even if I have to pick four months of sand out of my hair and skin, I’ll take it. Anything is better than not knowing how Emma is doing. How the academy is treating her.
Maybe, if I’m lucky, I may get home in time to watch her graduate.
When Casey opens the door, the wind and sandstorm have completely stopped. The bright desert sun beats down and it is hot enough that I almost wish the sand is back instead.
“Hey,” he says with a smile and a flourish. “Even the desert wants to get rid of us. It’s the first time in a week that we haven’t been pelted with the stuff.”
Except two hours later, I’m buried in sand under a canopy, with a rifle in my hand and a scope attached to my eye.
“What do you think you’re gonna do to win her over?” Casey mutters through the mic in my ear. “I need ideas if I’m gonna convince my wife to give me another chance.”
I snort. “I don’t think you should take advice from me. I keep screwing it up without even trying.”
“Trust me, man. If there was anyone else I trusted to ask about it. Or hell, anyone else here, I’d ask them too. But I gotta work with what I got. That’s you.”
“I don’t know. I figured I’d give her the chance to beat my ass and go from there. If I can get her talking, even screaming, it’ll be an improvement over the silent treatment.”
“What are you going to do about Linc?” Casey asks. “You could buy him his favorite bottle of booze.”
Linc, threatening to kill me for hurting his little sister, fills my mind, and I realize that it isn’t just one of the Hayes’ siblings that I’ll have to get forgiveness from. Out of the two of them, I can’t figure out which one I’m more afraid of.
I’ve seen Linc pull the trigger on an enemy combatant, but he’s not the scariest sibling.
The look on Emma’s face as she held on to Stryker’s head and knocked him out even with blood dripping from her hairline is branded into my brain forever.
Yep. Emma’s the one I’m scared of.
“I know what I’m gonna do,” I tell him after thinking about it for an hour.
I don’t get a chance to tell him, though, because something pops up on the edge of our firing distance. The target vehicle approaches with a trail of dust in its wake, marked by scouts, heading right toward one of the planned locations. Both Casey and I stop talking, ready to take action.
My finger on the trigger, the safety off and one in the chamber, I settle into the sand even further and adjust my position to make the most effective shot.
In my mind, a familiar mantra fills the silence.
Breathe.
In.
Out.
Pull the trigger.
As the shot rings out and our mission finally ends, all I can think about is Emma. In fact, if I’m honest with myself, it is her voice in my head, giving me the same instructions I heard her whisper to herself the day she outshot me on the range.
“Amazing.” Casey slaps me on the back as we make it back to base without incident. “How far was that shot? Fifteen hundred yards?”
Adrenaline courses through my veins, just like it does with every mission. “Two thousand,” I correct him.
He whistles. “Holy shit. I don’t even think my brother Cam could make that shot and he’s one of the best.”
Clearly not as good as me. But I don’t open my mouth.
Where there should be elation at completing the mission, all I feel is homesick.
It’s too bad I won’t be able to share with Emma that I made the shot. It doesn’t matter, though, because as far as I’m concerned, she can win every single time, as long as I get to be there by her side.