SABINE
The training facility at Camp Atterbury sprawls across several acres of Indiana landscape, and I watch through the chain-link fence as civilian contractors run soldiers through counter-surveillance drills in the cold December air. Hannah Frank stands near the far edge of the training area wearing tactical gear and a headset. Her attention is focused on the team executing a vehicle extraction scenario. It's one I remember learning, myself, in a time not that long ago.
She looks thinner than I remember from our time in Afghanistan, but she still holds herself with the same military stance backed by years of training. She's an ex-military contractor now, but a person's time in the service and training never quite goes away.
Jace parks the truck in the visitor lot and we sit for several minutes observing Hannah's movements and the layout of the facility. After seeing what that asshole did to her, I don't know what to think. It was hard to tell based on the video whether she knows a thing about it or not. And her departure from theservice shortly after mine could be indicative of anything, not just trauma.
"She looks nervous." Jace lifts his binoculars and studies her for a second. He's not wrong. Her posture is tense. "You think Bryan has already contacted her?"
"Probably… Or she heard the news reports about the others, or maybe she got that same memo from Defense that Ham got." The thought makes my stomach churn. "But now that Bryan knows we have his stash of evidence, he's probably going rogue… He knows you're not doing your job, either, so there's a chance he's ordered your boss to bring in a second man."
We exit the truck and approach the gate where a security guard sits in a small booth checking credentials. I flash my military identification without letting him see it really clearly and give him a story about needing to speak with one of the civilian instructors about a training matter. If he's seen the notice about my antics, he doesn't let on, and he waves us through without much scrutiny. We walk across the facility grounds toward where Hannah's working.
She notices us when we are about twenty yards away, and I watch her entire body go rigid. Her hand moves to her hip, but her service pistol isn't there, and her eyes dart between Jace and me as her eyebrows rise and her shoulders square. The training exercise continues around her, but Hannah has stopped paying attention to her team.
"Hannah…" I keep my voice calm and friendly as we close the distance. "It's been a long time. Can we talk for a few minutes?"
"Sabine—" Hannah seems to swallow around that word like it's choking her. She's terrified. They've gotten to her. "I heard you went AWOL. Military police are looking for you."
"I know." I stop a respectful distance away and keep my hands visible. "I need to talk to you about Captain Bryan and what happened in Afghanistan. It's important, and I think you already know why we're here."
Hannah glances at Jace and her eyes narrow. I watch her take two steps backward and I wonder if she's aware she's even doing it. "Who is he? Is he military?"
"This is Jace. He's helping me." I choose my words carefully. It's clear she knows things, but I don't know how much. "We're not here to hurt you, Hannah. We're here because you're in danger and I want to help keep you safe."
"I can't talk here." Hannah looks around at the soldiers training nearby and the facility staff moving between buildings. "Too many people, too much chance someone will overhear or report back to command. If you want to talk, it has to be somewhere else."
"There's a bookstore in town." Jace nudges me as he continues, and I nod in agreement. "We can meet you there in thirty minutes."
Hannah looks hesitant, like at any second she may bolt. "I mean… I can tell my supervisor I have an emergency, but I…"
"It isn't a setup." I meet her eyes and let her see the sincerity in my expression. "I promise. We just need to talk about Bryan and what he's been doing to women in our unit. You're not alone in this, Hannah."
The words make her flinch, and I know my suspicion was correct. She knows what Bryan did to her, and she's terrified to speak out. She turns away without responding and walks quickly toward the facility office, but then that walk turns to a jog, and then a run.
"She's running," Jace grunts, but I'm already moving, chasing after her.
Hannah darts past a few buildings into the grassy area to the south side of the facility where she rounds a corner, but I’m gaining ground fast. Whatever's got her spooked must've been something really terrifying. I'm here to help her and I explained that, but she still ran.
"Hannah!" I shout after her, hoping she'll realize I'm not here to attack her, but she keeps running and I keep pounding the pavement chasing her.
Jace is gone, turned around to go toward his truck, I think, and I'm on my own. The chase turns toward another chain-link fence which she climbs and lands on the other side before I'm there.
"Hannah, please. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to help you…" I'm heaving for breath, not realizing how hard it is to breathe in this cold air, and she shakes her head.
"No way, Hart. They said you're dangerous… I'm… I can't…" She bolts again, this time as I'm mounting the fence to come after her. And now I hear the squelch of walkies behind me and see four men in fatigues coming across the lawn after me. My feet hit the ground running, but I hear the squeal of tires before I clear the copse of trees that blocks my view of which direction she went.
And when it comes into sight, I see Jace with Hannah draped over one arm as she pummels him and kicks at his shins. My all-out sprint slows to a jog, but I can't let up.
"We have company," I blurt, and Jace seems to get the point. He starts moving before I shout, "Get in the truck!"
We're in with doors slammed shut before the soldiers get to us, and Jace accelerates down the street quickly. Hannah is heaving, and so am I, and she looks terrified.
"Please…"
"Hannah," I interrupt. "I'm not here to hurt you." I rest a hand on her knee and she stops talking. Her body is still trembling, though. "I know what he did to you." My eyes search hers for recognition. "He did it to me too."
She melts into a fit of shakes and tears, and when she's finally succumbed to them, I wrap my arms around her and hold her, talking softly in her ear until Jace pulls into the parking lot of that bookstore he talked about. He gets out of the cab to give us a moment but only takes a few seconds before I'm coaxing her out, leading her into the store to the small sitting area near the front for customers.
