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to the constant growl of generators broken up by the helicopters whirring overhead and bursts of machine gun fire from the test fire pit, an afternoon at Fort Hood was relatively quiet.
    He followed her around the Greywolf gym and down a gentle slope toward the parking lot. “I don’t usually see you in here,” he commented. A deliberate attempt to lighten up the hostility between them.
    “I usually run out by the airfield. There’s a trail by Engineer Lake I like.”
    “You’re not afraid to run by yourself?” he asked.
    “I don’t believe the media reports that all of you guys in uniform are closet rapists. I’ll take my chances,” she said dryly.
    Well, how about that. Kitty had claws. He was mildly impressed.
    She folded her arms over her chest. “Look, Wisniak is having a really hard time. Without going into too many details, he had an incredibly hard life growing up. He joined the army to be better than what he came from. And in his mind, he’s failed.”
    He studied her as she spoke. There was no hint of the attitude that drove him batshit crazy about the head docs. No need to protect the poor soldier from the evil chain of command. No desire to save the world.
    Just genuine concern for his trooper. Something Reza should have felt. He searched for a name for the misfit emotion swirling inside him. It was unfamiliar and fleeting. Flittering like a hummingbird against his heart before wrapping a cold wet blanket around him. Then he knew it. An old, long forgotten emotion.
    Shame. It shamed him, deeply, that he could not feel empathy for Wisniak. “He doesn’t need to stay in the army,” Reza said softly.
    “It’s all he’s ever wanted,” Emily countered.
    “He can want it all day long. Some people simply aren’t meant to be soldiers.” She flinched. He hadn’t meant to slap at her but he saw he’d struck home nonetheless. He cleared his throat roughly. “Why is it so hard for you to understand that some people really don’t belong in the army?”
    “And why is it so difficult for you to understand that some people just need a little more help fitting into the life we lead?” She lifted her chin. “The failure of not being a good soldier is killing him.”
    The echo of her words pushed aside any hint of compassion, the shame replaced by the familiar burn of rage beneath his skin.
    “It’s killing him?” Reza said softly. “Like, literally killing him? Stabbing him with a bayonet killing him? Close quarters killing him? Or is he getting shot at three hundred yards?”
    Her mouth opened but no sound came out as horror filled her pale blue eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she whispered.
    “How did you mean it, doc?” Reza swallowed the bitterness in his throat, fighting the urge to shout at her that she had no fucking idea about killing.
    “It’s just a figure of speech.”
    Reza smiled coldly. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. Killing is very much not a figure of speech where I’m from. Killing is a hot, bloody, screaming reality. A reality I’m supposed to be training our boys for. It pisses me off that I’ve had boys on the range that I couldn’t go teach how to shoot because I’ve been running around after this kid.”
    “Then why are you even talking to me?” she asked, lifting her chin.
    “Because I have to. Because Wisniak is in my company and that means I’m responsible for him.”
    “That’s a stunning lack of loyalty,” she said, her voice filling with challenge as she found her courage. “How can you lead someone you feel no loyalty toward?”
    “Loyalty is earned.”
    “See, here’s where you and I differ. You should have loyalty to all your soldiers.”
    Reza shifted and folded his arms over his chest, mirroring her own stance. “There are some who aren’t meant to be soldiers.”
    “This again?”
    “Why is that so hard for you to hear?” he asked suddenly. “What is it about you docs that makes you feel like every broken, battered kid