““I climbed over the machine gun and into the Casspir. Clearing my throat respectfully, I mentioned these minor points to Brand, wondering what the plan was if the bad guys slipped on down tonight and laid into us with some serious pyrotechnics. A few mortars. Maybe an RPG or two. Not that I was worried or anything like that. No, just curious. Besides, I was sure he already had everything worked out: some brilliant piece of police work which would handle any eventuality. He slapped at a mosquito. “Fuck ‘em,” he said through a yawn, “they can’t hit shit anyway.””
