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The Pentagon
20 years ago
Airman First Class E-3 Vicki Cortez clung to her shredded clothes.
The US Air Force uniform shirt of thin khaki, that she’d thought of as armor for the entire year since she’d first donned it, was in shreds. Buttons were gone. Her bra strap cut. A trickle of blood ran between her breasts where her commander’s knife had nicked her as she’d struggled.
But she hadn’t been raped.
For a moment, all she could do was blink in surprise. It had been so close. Her belt was sliced, her pants ripped and slid down to her ankles. Her panties slid off one hip.
She stood four-eleven and had plenty for curves on her small Latina frame that had brought her trouble any number of times before she joined the Air Force.
In her old life in San Diego’s Lincoln Park, she’d alway
