“I’ll take it from here,” Lieutenant Colonel Dolan, our battalion commander, answered, filling the small doorway of my curtained partition. Cover in hand, he ran his hand over his shaved skull, over his eyes, and down to his mustache. “I’m glad to see you’re okay, Lieutenant.”

“Sir,” I answered. “The other guys?”

“Rizzo’s okay. A little banged up, but okay.” He took Doc Howard’s chair.

“Bateman?” I forced out and held my breath. He hadn’t been awake, even after they medevac’d us.

“He’s pretty mangled, but alive. He’ll need some pins to salvage his legs, but they fixed all the internal bleeding in surgery. He’s not awake yet.”

My breath released on a ragged sigh, and my eyes closed in a silent prayer of thanks to God. Jagger was okay.

“You saved his life, son.”

“At the expense of Captain Trivette and”—I took a steadying breath and tried to keep from losing my shit—“Lieutenant Carter.” Will. You got Will killed.

He nodded slowly. “You were close to Carter?”

“Yes, sir. We went through flight school together, both Primary and Advanced Course. We were friends.” Against all odds.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

He lives for them. Will’s whispered order echoed through me.

I nodded, unable to say anything else about it. There was no opening that Pandora’s box. Not here. Not now. “The other Apache pilot?”

He shook his head. “No. CW3 Thorne didn’t survive.”

I nodded again like a fucking bobble-head doll. “Yeah, that’s what we thought, but everything out there went pretty quickly.”

The nurse came back in and smiled at us both. “Sir, we need to ready him for transport.”

“Of course.” He stood and turned to me in the doorway. “Lieutenant, I know today has been tragic for you, for the entire battalion, but you accomplished your mission. It took a great deal of bravery to do what your crew did. You can be proud. I know I am.”

“Thank you, sir.” My words were lip service, and we both knew it. I’d killed Will and Captain Trivette because of my single-minded need to save Jagger.

I wasn’t even sure I could regret it, which made me ten times worse of a person.

Will had died protecting me. How the fuck was I ever going to repay that? Earn that?

The nurse squeezed my left hand and pushed a drug into my IV. “This dose should get you through to Landstuhl. Transport is here, and you’re up next to go.”

“My phone?” I asked, my voice raised in panic. I had to call Ember. There was nothing as important, including oxygen.

The nurse handed me a Ziploc bag from the table across my little room. “Here are some of your personal effects. Your uniform was beyond repair. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I said, digging through the small bag to reach my international cell phone. One new text message.

DECEMBER: I BET YOU’RE FLYING, BUT I WANTED TO TELL YOU A QUICK I LOVE YOU.

When had she sent it? While I was still in the air? On the ground? In the firefight?

Two soldiers came in, checked my chart, my bracelet, and confirmed my name while my suddenly noncompliant fingers fumbled with the numbers. They popped the brakes on my bed and began wheeling as the phone dialed.

Four rings and voicemail.

They wheeled me out, through the hallway, and the déjà vu hit again, taking me back four years. My eyelids and I resumed our drug-induced battle.

“Hi, you’ve reached Ember. I’m sorry I can’t get to the phone, but leave a message and I’ll call you back. If this is Josh, I love you, I miss you, and I wish I could kiss you!”

We came to Doc Howard’s picture, taking me over the very same floor he’d taken his last breath on.

Beep.

I locked eyes with him, even though he drifted in and out of focus as the meds took full effect. “Hey, baby. I’m okay. Banged up, but okay.” I stayed with him until we wheeled past. I’ll take care of her. I swear, she won’t be trapped under my dream. “December, I love you. Hold tight, I’m coming home to you.”

I managed to hit end before falling asleep.

The drugs started to wear off as we descended into Ramstein Air Force Base. I even felt us touch down. I fought to open my eyes, but the next thing I felt was being lifted into the transport vehicle.

I pried my lids open and turned to the side. I heard nurses talking. The vehicle was lit well enough to see Jagger across from me. He had an IV bag and looked like shit, but I probably wasn’t ready for a beauty pageant, either. He made it. No ventilator, so he was breathing on his own. He’ll see his baby born.

I blinked, the task way more difficult than it should have been, and tried to sober up. I needed to call Ember. Needed to hear her voice and tell her that I was okay, that I wasn’t going to die on her.

“We’re approaching the gate,” one of the nurses said.

“I seem to have misplaced my ID card,” I said quietly with a small tilt to my lips.

“Oh, this one has jokes.” One of them laughed. He leaned over me and then checked the drip on my IV. “You’ll be just fine, Lieutenant.”

As soon as I talked to her, I would be. “What time is it?”

“A little after two a.m. on Monday morning.”

Fuck, we’d crashed over twenty-four hours ago. “What the hell have you guys been giving me? Time-suck painkillers?”