Daniel Whitmore.
Grant’s older brother.
Logan’s uncle.
And the man who had died fourteen years ago.
I remembered that morning.
Every second.
Our unit had been operating in Afghanistan.
The mission had gone wrong almost immediately.
A vehicle had been hit.
Communications were failing.
We had wounded soldiers.
And Captain Whitmore had made a decision.
He wanted to go back for two men who had been separated from the convoy.
I told him no.
Not because I didn’t care.
Because I knew what was waiting for us.
The area was being watched.
Going back without air support would have meant risking everyone.
Daniel argued.
I overruled him.
He obeyed.
At least, I thought he had.
But twenty minutes later, I discovered that he’d gone back anyway.
He found the two soldiers.
He got them out.
And on the way back, his vehicle was struck.
Daniel survived long enough to be evacuated.
