Part I — The Room Where He Arrived Too Late Lieutenant Aaron Hale entered the hospital room in dress whites and medals, looking more terrified than he had ever looked under fire. The door struck the rubber stopper behind him. A nurse turned, startled. Somewhere down the hall, a monitor chirped in steady little notes…

Part I — The Range Was Waiting Mara Voss lay flat in the dust with a rifle pressed into her shoulder and seven men behind her waiting for her to embarrass herself. No one said it aloud. They did not need to. The range was silent except for the dry scrape of wind over sandbags…

Part I — The Case By the time Sergeant Mara Vale reached the sniper mat, half the platoon had already decided she was going to miss. They stood in a loose half-circle under the hard desert sun, rifles slung, sleeves rolled, faces shaded by helmets and suspicion. The wind scraped sand across the range in…

Part I — The Cup The first drop of water hit the black-and-white tile beside Atlas’s paw, and every fork in the Liberty Bell Diner seemed to stop halfway to someone’s mouth. Mara Voss did not move. She sat in the back booth beneath the framed photograph of the county’s first Veterans Day parade, still…

Part I — Borrowed From the Dead Senator Adrian Vale stepped close enough to touch Staff Sergeant Mara Kellan’s uniform before the judge had even finished speaking. The courtroom went still. Mara did not move. Vale lifted one hand, slow and careful, as if performing a kindness for the cameras. His fingers found the Silver…

Part I — The Order Sergeant Mara Voss had the launcher on her shoulder, the relay station in her sights, and a direct order in her ear. “Fire.” The desert held its breath. Wind dragged grit across her cheek. Somewhere beyond the ridge, something heavy thudded into the earth and rolled its echo through the…

Part I — The Bell She Would Not Touch Mara Voss was face-down in the mud when Sergeant Major Dane Rourke told her to quit. Rain hammered the training field so hard the ground had turned to brown water. It ran under her collar, into her sleeves, between her clenched teeth. Her cheek was pressed…

Part I — The Palm Mara Voss raised one hand between her chest and Sergeant Cole Rainer’s. Not a shove. Not a plea. Just a palm. Cole stood so close that his breath stirred the loose strand of dark hair that had slipped from the knot at the back of her head. He was broad…

Part I — Dead Man’s Rifle Sergeant Mara Vale was already sitting in the dirt when Colonel Harlan Crewe laid the broken rifle in front of her and said, “If you want to belong in my unit, start by putting a dead man’s rifle back together.” No one laughed at first. That was the part…

Part I — The Question on the Table Mara Venn had peeled two oranges before Colonel Rusk put his hand on the back of her chair and asked, loud enough for the whole mess hall to hear, “How many did you leave behind?” The room went so quiet that someone’s fork struck a tray and…