Chapter 42: The Helipad Standoff

The helipad was bathed in the harsh, artificial glow of the floodlights. A single Black Hawk sat idling, its rotors beginning to turn. I saw James, his hands zip-tied behind his back, being led toward the ramp by two of Sterling’s personal security detail.

"Hold it right there!"

Thorne’s voice boomed across the tarmac. He emerged from behind a HESCO barrier, his SAW leveled at the guards. Behind him, the rest of the platoon stepped into the light—twenty-one men, fully geared, their faces set in stone.

Major Sterling stepped out from the shadows of the TOC, his face pale with shock. "Sergeant Thorne! Drop that weapon! That is a direct order!"

"Orders don't mean much when they're coming from a man who tries to break his best unit out of spite, Sir," Thorne said, his voice steady.

I stepped forward, my radio hummed on my back. I looked at James. He looked at me, his eyes wide with a mix of terror and pride. He tried to speak, but the guard shoved him forward.

"Let him go, Major," I said, my voice echoing over the roar of the engines. "The Colonel in Bagram might have heard your version of the story, but I have the digital logs. I have the recordings of every command given in the Martyrs. I have the proof that you tried to sabotage a mission for a personal vendetta."

It was a bluff. I had the logs, but they weren't the "smoking gun" I claimed they were. But Sterling didn't know that. He looked at the circle of armed men, then at me, then at the Captain.

"You’re all finished," Sterling hissed, his voice shaking. "Every one of you."

"Maybe," Viper said, stepping up beside me. "But we’re finished together. Now, unlock the Captain."