He rubs his eyes. “So you told her that we served, but you didn’t tell her why. Did you tell her we’re combat vets?” “No.” “Did you tell her you were a squad leader?” “No.” Banks scratches the scruff on his jaw. “What you’re telling me then is you’ve given her a millimeter, and you made an oath with Jane to be more transparent.” He lifts his shoulders in a tight shrug. “Just go the full hundred yards, Thatcher.”
