26
Tim had waited for his opportunity. He’d lost a quick twenty bucks at the poker game, not much left to chance when Connie and Major Henderson were facing off. Then he’d found a sandwich and stood back a step as Big John managed to take two hands in a row.
Tim faded down the side of the van and nodded to the watching D-boy. After eight years in, Tim had learned to accept whatever came next, at least on the Army side of life. He’d find out what they’d uncovered in the Iranian desert soon enough. Probably too soon once the truth was told.
Dilya drifted by, a book clutched in her hands, probably headed forward for food. A full year since they’d rescued her from starving in the heart of the Hindu Kush, and she still ate like a vacuum cleaner. She’d eat six meals a day if she could, often
