She had that same dazed and empty look that he had when looking around to survey the damage and to take inventory of the dead and the wounded. Only he... combat mission was living and his combat mission was dying, kill or be killed. ‘Don’t move! Show me your hands! Show me your hands! Get down on the ground! Get down on the ground! Don’t move!’ Those words echoed through his brain in seven languages. Yet too many only understood a bullet to the head. They hated Americans. They hated America. He. She was slender, but the slenderness of a young woman, rather than a boy. Her breasts although small, were perfectly proportioned upon her, her narrow waist making them look larger than they actually were. She had the body of a dancer, a fitting thought, considering his choice of tale this evening. ‘Because you love me and would do anything to please me and this, darling, pleases me greatly.’ ‘Fine, but remember, you promised me another bed time story,’ Jenny said, her lips forming a pout that. More

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