Chapter 1: Fury Ten
“What's your adorable little call sign, Ellie?””
Tyler's voice carried across the courtyard of Camp Pendleton, loud enough to make three Marines turn their heads.
He held my visitor badge between two fingers like it was something he'd found stuck to the bottom of a shoe.
Then he dropped it.
The badge bounced once against the concrete, slid across the edge of the walkway, and disappeared into a patch of pale gravel.
Tyler laughed.
“Seriously,” he said.
“Did you pick that up from some video game?””
A few younger Marines laughed with him.
I stared at the badge.
Then at my brother.
Then at the crowd gathered around us.
Family Day was supposed to be about photographs, food trucks, flags snapping in the ocean wind, and parents getting embarrassingly emotional over their sons and daughters in uniform.
My mother had spent three weeks begging me to come.
Tyler had spent those same three weeks telling everyone I would embarrass him.
Apparently, he had decided to solve that problem himself.
I crouched down.
My fingers closed around the badge.
Dust clung to its plastic edge. I brushed it away with my thumb, then stood.
“My call sign,” I said quietly, “is Fury Ten.””
The laughter stopped.
Not all at once.
It spread backward through the group like someone had pulled a plug from a speaker.
One Marine lowered his hot dog.
Another looked at the man standing twenty feet away from us.
Gunnery Sergeant Marcus Rourke.
He had been talking with a captain near one of the display vehicles.
Now he was completely still.
Not surprised.
Not curious.
Still.
His face drained of color so quickly that for a second I wondered if I was imagining it.
Tyler didn't notice.
“Well?”” he said, spreading his arms theatrically.
“Is Fury Ten your mall-security nickname?””
A couple of his friends snorted.
Tyler pointed at me.
“Come on, Ellie. Tell them what you actually do again. Data entry?””
“Operations,” I said.
“Same thing.””
“No.””
He grinned.
“Sorry. Operations.””
Rourke had started walking toward us.
Slowly.
Every step deliberate.
His eyes never left my face.
Tyler finally noticed him.
“Gunny?””
Rourke stopped three feet away.
His right hand had curled into a fist against the seam of his trousers.
“Ma'am,” he said.
The word landed differently than everything else had.
Respectful.
Careful.
Almost shaken.
“Where did you hear that designation?””
My mother blinked.
“Marcus?””
Tyler laughed.
“Gunny, don't encourage her.””
Rourke didn't look at him.
“Fury Ten,” he repeated.
I nodded.
“That's right.””
His jaw tightened.
“Where did you hear it?””
The wind moved through the flags overhead.
I could smell grilled burgers from the food tents. Someone's child was crying near the inflatable obstacle course. A loudspeaker crackled somewhere behind us.
Everything around me remained ordinary.
Except for the silence in Rourke's eyes.
“Black Ridge,” I said.
His expression changed.
“Two seventeen in the morning.””
His mouth parted slightly.
Tyler's smile disappeared for half a second.
Rourke stepped closer.
“What was the ground team's call sign?””
I answered immediately.
“Rook Six.””
His nostrils flared.
“And who was Rook Six?””
“You were.””
Nobody laughed.
Nobody moved.
Rourke stared at me like he'd been struck.
Tyler recovered first.
“She Googled you,” he said.
Rourke finally turned his head.
“Corporal Hayes.””
Tyler straightened instinctively.
“Yes, Gunny.””
“Do not speak.””
Tyler's face hardened.
“Gunny, she's my sister. She's messing with you.””
Rourke's eyes returned to me.
“You never made that call sign public.””
“I know.””
“You shouldn't know it.””
“I know that too.””
He swallowed.
“How?””
I looked past him for a moment, toward the rows of flags and polished vehicles.
“Because I was there.””
My mother's hand flew to her mouth.
Tyler gave a short, disbelieving laugh.
“Okay. That's enough.””
I didn't look at him.
Rourke did.
“Was there a woman with the medical team?”” I asked.
His face tightened.
“Yes.””
“Dark hair. Green scarf. Broken watch.””
Rourke stopped breathing for a beat.
“You remember the watch?””
“I remember everything from that night.””
The older Marines standing nearby had gone rigid.
One of them whispered something to another.
Tyler looked from face to face.
“What the hell is going on?””
No one answered him.
I reached into the side pocket of my purse.
Rourke watched every movement.
I pulled out a small brass key.
The head of it was worn nearly smooth.
Rourke's eyes dropped to it.
Color left his face again.
“Where did you get that?”” he whispered.
I closed my fingers around it.
“From the second radio case.””
He stared at me.
Tyler's voice sharpened.
“What radio case?””
I finally looked at my brother.
“The one your unit told your family was destroyed.””
His face went blank.
“Ellie.””
I held his stare.
“You told Mom no one survived Black Ridge.””
My mother turned toward Tyler.
“Tyler?””
He shook his head.
“You're confused.””
“I was there.””
“No, you weren't.””
His voice cracked on the last word.
That was when I saw it.
Fear.
Not embarrassment.
Not anger.
Fear.
Real fear.
For the first time since I'd arrived, Tyler didn't look like the confident Marine everyone had been admiring all afternoon.
He looked like a man who had just watched a locked door swing open.
Rourke stepped between us.
“Ma'am,” he said quietly, “we need to talk somewhere private.””
Tyler moved immediately.
“No.””
Rourke's stare snapped toward him.
“I wasn't asking you.””
Tyler's jaw tightened.
“Gunny, with respect—”
“With respect,” Rourke interrupted, “you will let me handle this.””
My mother looked terrified.
“Eleanor, what is he talking about?””
I wanted to answer.
I really did.
But before I could, a sharp electronic chirp came from Rourke's pocket.
He froze.
He pulled out his phone.
Looked at the screen.
And all the blood seemed to drain from his face.
I watched his eyes move across the message.
Once.
Twice.
Then he looked directly at me.
“What?”” I asked.
He locked the phone.
“Who else knows you're here?””
I frowned.
“Why?””
His voice dropped almost to a whisper.
“Because the person who just texted me says Fury Ten was never supposed to survive Black Ridge.””
My mother gasped.
Tyler took one step backward.
May you like
And for the first time all afternoon, my brother looked at me like I wasn't his little sister anymore.
He looked at me like I was the witness he'd spent years praying was dead.
