She nodded once, short and professional; a recognition of how much training he'd have had. Andy knew exactly how specialized that field was, and that was coming from her. She had none of the patience to sit for hours and hours marking a target, though she hardly even flinched at hostage recovery, disruption of weapons smuggling or human trafficking, or much else. She was a damn good soldier.
"I'm...I was Unit 269. Sayeret Maktal, IDF." She had to stop herself from giving a rank and serial number: it was so very much second-nature that she stumbled over not saying it, shaking her head.
"It's difficult to not say all of it. I still forget sometimes, even if I'm out." It didn't feel real sometimes, like this was all some kind of dream an she'd wake back up in the field, sleeping against a fellow unit member, or curled up against Quynh in their bed. God, what she wouldn't give for that part, that brain-aching, heart rending loss to be a nightmare, nothing substantial. "They do a good job breaking us, don't they?"
no subject
"I'm...I was Unit 269. Sayeret Maktal, IDF." She had to stop herself from giving a rank and serial number: it was so very much second-nature that she stumbled over not saying it, shaking her head.
"It's difficult to not say all of it. I still forget sometimes, even if I'm out." It didn't feel real sometimes, like this was all some kind of dream an she'd wake back up in the field, sleeping against a fellow unit member, or curled up against Quynh in their bed. God, what she wouldn't give for that part, that brain-aching, heart rending loss to be a nightmare, nothing substantial. "They do a good job breaking us, don't they?"