“I’ve got some preliminary reports,” said Harrison as he walked out of the communications office. “Sixty-eight hostages were freed. Three injuries to US forces. One KIA. One MIA.”
“Names?” Mike asked. The one word was all he could manage.
“KIA was Petty Officer Frank Iglesias. MIA is…Kurt Halstead, one of our own.”
Mike turned and walked out of the large room back down the hallway to the small office he’d been using. No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t lose Kurt now, when he was just beginning to understand that Kurt meant more to him than just a best friend. He shut the door and leaned back against it, sliding down the door until his butt hit the floor. He wrapped his arms around his legs and pressed his forehead to his knees. For moments he could barely breathe, then the tears came, scalding hot and he sobbed.
Kurt had family. They deserved to know from someone who was closer to Kurt than some duly assigned CACO officer.