The night over Khorzan Valley was pure hell — no moon, no mercy. Two hundred fifty Marines were trapped, cut off, surrounded on all sides. Their radios screamed static, and every flare that lit the sky showed just how bad it was. Back at base, everyone knew sending help meant suicide. The order was clear: no flights in or out until dawn. But one pilot didn’t move. Lieutenant Commander Sandra “Viper” Keene stood silent in the corner, eyes fixed on the red map blinking with dying signals. She didn