Moments after I meet Rafe on the field, a group of us are rushing back towards the house. Rafe is shouting commands down the line of the radio on his shoulder, ordering one of the re-fueled helicopters to come to the back lawn.
I’m at the head of the group, leading the way back to the house, Rafe behind me, a collection of medics moving swiftly behind him, carrying their medical packs and a stretcher. My boys trail after the medics, holding each other’s hands.
They were quite brave before – upstairs, when they did their jobs in the interrogation of my father and Joyce. But now, I know that they’re wondering the same thing I am. Was it worth it? Was it worth the extra time it took, to discredit them – to end the war?
Or should we have just used the time to concentrate on getting Victor
