<blockquote>"What the hell, man?" somebody says, and GQ turns around and looks.
There's someone off to one side of him. Another SEAL, looks like, and the only guy who was anywhere near as close to that blast as GQ. Benitez rushed forward to help him out, though, after the grenade went off; and the guy's freaking out on her, twisting out of her grip and baring his teeth, shoulders bunched, clutching his gun at an awkward angle like he's planning to use it for a club instead of shooting it.
"Hey," GQ says, starting toward them, and he's distracted at first by the wide-eyed stare Benitez gives him, the way her gun comes up. It takes him a second to meet the guy's eyes, a second to realize that it's—that they're his.
That's him over there. That's him.</blockquote>
