“Captain?” he said.

He looked at Okoye, then at me, then back at Okoye, and something in his face had already started to come apart.

“What — what is this?

What kind of joke — she does paperwork.

She has a desk job.” Okoye did not look at him.

Okoye held the salute, held my eyes, and I returned it, the first salute I’d returned in four months, and behind him two more vehicles came to a stop and four soldiers stepped out in gear and moved without being told to the corners of the property, unhurried, absolute.