"Now normally," the man said, cradling his weapon in one arm while scratching the blond beard covering the lower half of his face with his free hand, "me and Mad Dog"--he dipped his chin toward the soldier holding Umar hostage--"and the rest of the boys wouldn't hesitate to just go ahead and let you eat a bullet." And, as if on cue, four more soldiers emerged from the undergrowth, quiet as ghosts. "But as it happens, there are some folks back in the States who are just itchin' to ask you a few questions."