36
Connie looked at herself in the mirror. At least as well as she could between the football trophies. She’d showered off the grease, dug the worst of it out from beneath her nails.
Tan slacks, a gray cotton blouse, and a jeans jacket. She didn’t have a parka with her, didn’t own a dress except for her US Army Class-As, and those were in a storage locker back at Fort Campbell where they’d been for over a year.
She looked ridiculous. Her friends, well, the flight crews that were still in Bati, were wearing armor and fighting for their lives in a country where both sides would prefer they were all dead. She shouldn’t be here. She should—
Connie spotted Noreen’s reflection in the mirror as the girl came to lean against the doorjamb to John’s room. Arms crossed tightly over her chest.
“J
