“Patrick?” General Samson urged him. “What do you say? Be my second in command. In three years, this will be your base, your command.”
Patrick McLanahan caught a glimpse of Hal Briggs. The young commando motioned outside, where his Humvee was waiting.
“I’ll let you know, sir,” Patrick said with a broad smile. “I’ll let you know.” He took Wendy by the hand, led her out into the warm Nevada evening into the waiting Humvee, and they drove toward the crimson sunset — out into the future.