Chapter 44: The Winter of the Pech

The final month of the deployment was the hardest. Higher command didn't officially charge us—the "optics" were too bad—but they froze us out. We were given the most dangerous patrols, the least amount of support, and the coldest shoulder Bagram could offer.

Winter hit the Pech with a vengeance. The rain turned to sleet, and the mountains became jagged teeth of ice. I sat in the bay, my fingers numb as I tried to repair a frayed wire. My skin felt tight and dry, the white patches on my hands looking like frostbite.

Stitch sat next to me, sharing a bar of chocolate he’d been saving. "You think they’ll really let us go home, Ghost? Or are we just gonna stay here until we all freeze?"

"We're going home, Stitch," I said. "James won't let them keep us here."

I looked up to see James entering the bay. He looked haggard, his uniform hanging off his frame. He walked to the center of the room.

"Listen up," he said. "The transport bird is scheduled for 0600 tomorrow. We’re out of here. All of us."

A cheer went up, but it was tired, hollow. We had won the battle against Sterling, but the war had taken its toll.

James walked over to my cot. He didn't touch me—not here, not yet—but he leaned against the post. "One last night, Coraline."

"One last night," I agreed.