Private

"Jack just sees it his way. Jack is never wrong either. Dad was trying to toughen us up," my brother said. The smirk was gone. I'd attacked something he had defended his entire life. "He didn't want the world to take advantage of us."

I barely listened as my brother excused my father's brutality. He said to Dr. McGinty, "Jack never gives him credit. Dad wanted us to succeed. He encouraged Jack to play football and to be good at it. Jack and I were black belts before we were thirteen. And when Jack became a Marine? Dad lit up when he talked about his son the war hero. He was really proud."

I was looking over Dr. McGinty's head, seeing Jeff Albert's face through my NVGs. I saw the fear and the agony, the broken bones coming through his pant legs. He was screaming, "Don't leave me here to burn!"

"What are you thinking right now?" McGinty asked me.

Images were firing off like fifty-caliber rounds. I had repressed the truth to protect myself. Now I had no place to hide. I wasn't who I'd thought I was.

I said, "This was a mistake. I don't belong here. I have to go."

Chapter 86

I GOT OUT of the chair, made for the door. I had my hand on the knob when Tommy called out, "Hey, Jack. Whatever it is, you should stay. Take my session, bro. Okay, Dr. McGinty?"

"Of course. Please, Jack. Sit down."

I didn't want to let the demon out. It was too big and still too raw. How could I tell a stranger what I'd managed to keep from myself all these years? How could I tell Tommy?

"This is a safe place," McGinty was saying.

McGinty was wrong. It wasn't safe. Dropping my guard with Tommy took more than courage. It was a high-risk bet with bad odds and an irretrievable downside. At the same time, the pressure to talk was building into a runaway need to admit what I'd done.

"I was flying a transport mission from Gardez to the base at Kandahar," I choked out. "I had fourteen Marines in the back. You can hear a screwdriver drop in the cargo bay of a CH-46, so when the missile came through the floor… the sound… of the aircraft being ripped up…"

I envisioned the dead Marines piled up against the left side of the cabin.

I forced myself to continue. I described the crash and the aftermath: staring into the cabin through my NVGs, seeing the dead men, my friend soaked in blood.

"I had Danny slung over my shoulder-a fireman's carry-and then Corporal Albert woke up. He begged me not to leave him there to burn. I already had Danny. I had to get him to safe ground. Albert was half-buried under the casualties. His legs were in pieces. I needed help to get him out of there. I promised him that I'd come back."

The words were stopping my ability to breathe.

"Are you all right, Jack?"

"Jeff Albert told me that Danny Young was dead."

"Do you think he was? How could Albert have even known?"

"I don't know. It was night… Danny didn't speak… I couldn't feel a pulse because my hands… were numb.

"The way we're briefed before each flight… is take someone out with you. You take out the most urgently wounded who are still alive first. If they're dead, they don't need to be rescued-everyone understands that.

"If Danny was dead, I saved a dead man and left a live man to burn up. I would've gone back."

There was a long pause until McGinty finally spoke again. "Why didn't you?"

"I died," I said.

Chapter 87

I HADN'T CRIED since I was a small boy, maybe four or five years old. I didn't cry when my father died, not even close. But my grief for having deserted Jeff Albert seemed unstoppable right now. I put my head in my arms, and the pain just flowed.

I heard Tommy explaining to Dr. McGinty that a chunk of debris had slammed into my flak jacket and that my heart had stopped. It had taken CPR to start my pump again.

As Tommy talked, I saw Rick Del Rio's face as if he were in the room. I heard him laughing, saying, "Jack, you son of a bitch, you're back." I heard the helicopter blow up and felt the scorching heat come in waves across the field.

The shrink said, "You were dead, Jack. Tell me what you could have done to save that man."

My mouth moved, but I couldn't speak. I stood up and so did Tommy. He put his arms around me and hugged me for the first time since we were ten. I cried onto his shoulder and he comforted me.

This was my brother. We'd shared a room from the time we were brought home from the hospital. I knew him as well as I knew myself; maybe I knew him better. I had to accept that underneath the enmity, Tommy and I still loved each other. It was a huge moment between the two of us.

I started to say it was good to be able to tell him what had happened to me, but he spoke first.

"Well, isn't this something? And Dad thought you were perfect. I guess he was wrong, brother Jack. Not perfect at all."

Tommy had suckered me. And now he was twisting the blade.

The anger was instant and overwhelming. I pushed him with all my strength, watched as he slammed into a bookcase and tumbled to the floor.

"What else do you need to know, Dr. McGinty?" I said. "I think you've heard enough."