“They called Captain Claire Vance a coward in front of the nation—and her own father smiled as the chains tightened around her wrists.”
Steel followed her through the Fort Meade courtroom.
Clink.
Clink.
Two Military Police officers marched Claire between rows of soldiers, reporters, Pentagon officials, and families who believed she had left three men to die.
At the prosecution table stood General Richard Vance.
Four stars gleamed on his shoulders.
Her father.
His expression was solemn for the cameras, but Claire caught the smallest lift at the corner of his mouth.
He thought it was over.
Near the front, Sarah Miller clutched the folded flag that had covered her husband’s coffin.
David Hayes Sr. stared at Claire with open fury.
Sergeant Owen Jenkins’s widow refused to look at her.
Miller.
Hayes.
Jenkins.
Three soldiers killed at Checkpoint Echo.
Three families told the same story.
Captain Claire Vance had abandoned them.
An MP pushed her into the defense chair.
Major Daniel Reynolds leaned close.
“Don’t look at General Vance like that.”
“I’m watching him.”
“You look like you want to kill him.”
Claire never took her eyes off her father.
“No. I want him to keep talking.”
Judge Marcus Harrison entered and opened the case file.
“Captain Claire Marie Vance, you are charged with dereliction of duty, cowardice in the face of the enemy, destruction of classified materials, disobedience of a lawful order, and three counts of involuntary manslaughter connected to the loss of Checkpoint Echo.”
For one second, Claire was back in Syria.
Dust.
