Chapter 7
The practice engagement in the heart of the NTTR, for all its stress and ferocity had been brief. The celebration meal had once again been set out in front of the hangers except the lush heat of August in Alabama had given way to a cool September night in the arid Nevada desert.
After several hours, most of which he’d spent with Lola Maloney and Cass talking tactics—again Pete was reminded that Cass had flown his way to his position, not politicked it, because damn the man’s brain was sharp—the members of the 5D headed aloft to fly back to Joint Base Lewis-McChord in Washington state before dawn. The area emptied as his team members headed for their beds in ones and twos; no desert disc golf course here and too tired even if there was. The last of them shrugged into jackets and
