At the monitors, on which his soldiers burned and bled. At the officers surrounding the table. At the American flag hanging limp in the corner. “Sir, the Avenger is our top-of-line technology. It’s capable of more than four thousand miles per hour, five times the speed of sound. You have to go.” This was never what you wanted. Not the office, not division in America, not the war. You let others drive you here. You knew better, and you let it happen anyway. And now thousands
