All of us were soaked in sweat. The men pulled off their heavy combat gear and let the cold air bathe their bodies. Danny stripped down to a t-shirt and it was hard not to stare: the tight cotton hugged the hard contours of his chest and his biceps and thickly-corded forearms gleamed. Then he turned to talk to Cal and—

The t-shirt was thin enough that I could make out the criss-crossing scars that covered his back. I felt my chest constrict again. What happened to him?

Danny turned around and I didn’t look away quickly enough. He nodded in understanding and moved closer, so he could speak just to me. “I got captured,” he said. “In Iraq. One of the blokes who was holding me went to work on me with a belt.” His voice was warm, cocky, reassuring. It’s okay that you saw. It’s no big deal.

I nodded. But as he moved away, I watched him go, my eyes locked on his back.

I’m lousy with people. But I’d spent so much time with Danny, over the last few days, that I heard that rough London voice even in my dreams.

And I was pretty sure he was lying about his scars.

* * *

We trained relentlessly. I learned the hand signals that meant stop and go and I see an enemy. I copied how the team moved: that quick, half-crouching prowl, until I could do it almost as quietly as them. By mid-afternoon, the team trusted me enough not to walk in front of someone that they loaded up their guns and we ran live-fire exercises, to get me used to what it would be like if there was actually a firefight. It was nothing like how it was in the movies. The roar of gunfire was like someone hammering an iron bar into my eardrums. The muzzle flashes blinded me and the air filled with gun smoke that caught in my throat. It was scary and disorienting and this was with the team shooting at wooden targets that didn’t fire back. I pressed my palm hard against Danny’s back and squeezed my eyes shut. How do they all stay so calm?

Whenever we took a break, I pulled out my roll of tools and one of the ankle bracelets and practiced hot-wiring it with just a flashlight for light. I got it down to four minutes but would that be fast enough?

It would have to be. Danny checked his watch and called time. I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t nearly ready. But it was time to go.

19. Erin

19

ERIN

For the second time in a few days, the women had to say goodbye to their men.

Stacey was all tight efficiency, as before. “I made you something,” she told Bradan, and pressed a small package into his hand.