A heavy pistol shot, probably a long-barreled .45, shattered the terrible, murky night ripped by vicious winds, slashing rain and marbled arcs, bolts and shards of lightning.

A rage of nature swallowed the blast, close enough to raise the hair on my neck, but out of sight.

It took a moment to come to my senses, I must have been sleeping a long time in the Hummer…but it wasn’t dark when I was dozing, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, as

I recall.

I don’t know how I could have been sleeping for so long. Don’t even remember being tired. My gear was within arm’s reach in the back seat.

I dragged the assault pack up front and strapped it on, yanked the utility belt out of its case and clipped myself into it.

The Hummer keys were gone. I flipped on the walkie-talkie, slapped clips into the Glocks and smashed the dome light with the butt of my combat knife.

Sliding out the door onto the ground I left the vehicle for better cover in the brush. A gash of lightning ripped overhead and thunder rushed in from every quarter.

I pulled the .44 from its holster strapped to my thigh and slapped a Surefire flashlight to the barrel. I pulled the hammer back and moved toward the area where the shot was fired off the left front bumper, off in the windscrambled brush, maybe ten meters distant.

Thunder and wind covered my sound as I pushed through the brush and backed up to a tree, clinching my throat mic to my neck and checking for contact with Cloris.

Straining my eyes for anything out there. Nothing… But in nothing can everything. I snapped on the flashlight just as bushes parted and a face loomed: a blast, a whizz…I fired and a stranger dropped hard into the mud.

With my light in his eyes I rushed the down shooter, stomped his gun hand in the mud and snapped a neck with my boot.

I grabbed the weapon, a big Colt, and slid it under my utility belt, snapped off the light and moved away from the stiff and into the sloppy vegetation under cover to see if I could raise Cloris.

“Waltraute… Baby, kann Sie hören mich?”……

“Wal….” “Der Kampf von der Zukunft wird für Jesus…irgendeinen Sieg wird sein dunkel, brutal, unsinnig, aber hoffentlich nur sein.”

Cloris drove the Hummer out of the dawn and into the day.

“Vous êtes de votre esprit, Homeboy.” She shook her head patiently. I jumped up with a start and looked around. The Hummer was rolling tough into the dark, green foothills.

I wiped drool from a lip and looked over at the driver.

“Waltraute?” Cloris ground her eye into my cheek.