Page 74 of Austin

I’ve been working with the lawyers, marketing, advertising, and the executive producer we hired to make sure today happens and that we have enough fresh material.

“The fourth camera will be a handheld. All bases are covered,” she says as the door behind us opens.

A man with scars all over his face enters the room. His eyebrows are nonexistent, as is the front of his hairline. He’s gaunt, and he walks with a slight limp as he heads toward us, followed by a few people who are probably his family.

Stefanie looks me in the eye. “You ready for this?”

I nod, not saying a word. She knows. Actually, she’s one of the only people who does, so there’s nothing that needs to be said.

I didn’t want this meeting to make a spectacle of my past, but Bryce insisted every moment be captured, reminding me about how our mom used to capture even the smallest details. He’s right, of course, but that doesn’t change my nerves in the process.

The handheld camera that was on the dresser is now in the hand of a member from the crew, who has it focused on me as Sergeant Miller approaches.

My gaze runs down to his pants that I know are covering a prosthetic leg and up to his missing left arm.

A hand softly touches my back. I think it’s Stefanie, but when I turn, I see it’s Jalynn. There’s no way she knows my truth, but there’s also no doubt that she knows that I need her touch right now.

While I’m currently spending my days and nights trying to keep my alternative life as Falcon under wraps, just a few years ago, I was Corporal Sexton, keeping my real life as separate as possible from the platoon.

The guys were too busy cracking jokes at my name to bother with caring about who my family was. I told them I was from a small town in Ohio, and they had no reason not to believe me.

I take a deep breath and walk toward Sergeant Miller. Reaching out my hand while my chest tightens beyond belief.

“Corporal Sexton?”

My hands shake as emotions race through my body. We stare at each other for a few breaths until I can’t help myself, and I wrap my arms around the man who saved my life.

“Okay, men. Listen up,” Sarge called out from the front of the line where we were huddled against the side of a building with our guns loaded and our fingers ready on the trigger. He pointed with two fingers toward the site and spoke in a grainy voice, “Once we get in this building, we’ll set up our home base and hunker down for the night. It’s been a long day, and I know everyone’s tired. We’ll be staying here for a few days, so get comfortable, eat some food, and try to get some shut-eye to prepare for tomorrow. Supplies should be here shortly.”

We took our positions as we entered the abandoned building, one by one.

“Clear,” I called, keeping my scope up in case an enemy combatant was lurking in the shadows.

Each room was checked, and after multiple rounds of hearing men yell, “Clear,” we brought our guns down and took in our new home for the night.

I removed my sack off my back and sat down on the dusty floor. My feet and back were killing me, and I wanted nothing more than to lie down and close my eyes. I needed to get a few bites of food in me first before I keeled over.

“Hey, you got a can opener on you?” I asked Jimmy, who walked into the room, as I rustled through my sack, looking for one.

“I got you. I left my bag upstairs. I’ll be right back.”

I nodded. “Thanks.” Continuing to set up camp, I unfolded my sleeping pad and reached for my water.

“Incoming!” is the last thing I heard before the entire room opened up into a ball of fire.

Tears fall as I feel his arm wrap around my back. We stay like this for a few moments, everyone giving us our moment while I try to recoup.

“I can never thank you enough,” I whisper before pulling back and wiping the tears away.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says, reaching up to straighten my tie. “You clean up nice. Much better than when I found you lying in that heap of rubble.”

“I thought you were an illusion until I woke up at the base, and they told me what had happened.”

He motions toward the seat. “Mind if we take a break? This bad boy hurts my hips after a while.” He motions toward his prosthetic leg as he sits down.

I stay close to make sure he doesn’t need help.

When he’s settled into his chair, I take a seat in the other as the crew looks on at us.