Churning the generator and patching through. ‘Here Sir,’ the radioman said handing him the microphone. ‘Where in the Hell are those Black Hawks... I need them now.’ The large man yelled as more bullets bounced off the truck’s sandstone camouflage body. ‘Good, cause we got sand trapped. Tell them to step on it.’ Sergeant Stein handed the microphone back to the radioman. ‘Awww,’ cried out as another soldier took a hit. ‘Medic,’ a yell came from far off. The company of men was pinned down at the. Miriam put her cell phone down on the small glass-top table and picked up her wine glass. She stepped to the edge of the balcony, leaned against the marble balustrade, and gazed out over the city below. A cool Manhattan breeze ruffled her robe and brought goose bumps to her flesh, still damp from her morning shower. Usually calm and relaxed, she made a habit of drinking her wine in slow measured sips savoring the subtle flavors of the grape. Today she tossed it back in gulps like a beggar at a. More

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