The form moving toward Kenny wore native garb—a knee-length white shirt with a dark vest over it, and the round cap of the locals. The bastard was pointing an AK-47 at Kenny.

“Kill him!” Griffin ground out.

Kenny was obviously dazed, because his own weapon came up far too slowly. Wobbled. Steadied. Wavered again. Finally, Kenny fired. The kick of his assault weapon knocked Kenny onto his back, for his camera saw sky as well.

Kenny rolled to his side. The hostile was lying on the ground in a lump, unmoving.

“Good shot,” Griffin gasped. He felt like he was Ken on the ground, trying desperately to regain his bearings, to gather his wits and get his head back in the game.

Jojo’s camera, the buried one, moved a little. A shower of dust fell in front of that feed, and then the video shook as if Jojo was coughing, perhaps. Very slowly, inch by agonizing inch, Jojo’s camera began the long crawl toward open air at the far end of the concrete tunnel.

Kenny’s camera moved at hands-and-knees height toward a dark lump on his right.

Cal was first to identify it and started moaning, “Nonononononono,” under his breath.

And then Griffin saw what it was.

Sam.

Down. Crumpled in an unnatural heap that the human body wasn’t meant to lie in.

“He’s not moving, Cal,” Griffin groaned.

Sherri started to cry quietly beside Griffin.

Aww, noo. Please God, no. Not goofy baby Sam. The kid was an overgrown puppy, sweet, loyal, and eager to please. Everyone loved Sam. He had the makings of a great SEAL.

And just as certainly, he lay in the dirt of an Afghani valley dead, all that potential, all that life, wiped out. Ended. Gone.

Trevor’s head bowed beside Griffin, the Brit’s lips moving in a silent prayer. The finality of sending up a prayer for Sam’s soul was a spike straight through Griffin’s heart.

He’d seen death before. He’d lost teammates before. But never like this, up close and personal, sharing a live feed of a brother’s death.

He spun his chair around fast, grabbed the trash can in the corner behind him, and heaved into it.

Grimly, he turned back around and resumed watching the nightmare unfold.

The operations folks were shouting about the compound being overrun by hostiles. They ordered teams Sulu and Scotty to pull back. The other two strike teams radioed back, asking to go in and find the Reapers, but they were ordered again to retreat. Team Bones was a loss.

But Kenny and Jojo were still alive!

Cal grabbed the phone and shouted into it, demanding and then pleading for a rescue of his guys.

Teams Sulu and Scotty were grudgingly told that if they happened to see the Reapers on the way out, they were green-lighted to grab Team Bones.