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handed out a cane which the old man took with trembling hand. Placing the cane firmly on the ground, the old man craned his neck and looked up at Russ towering above him in the roof hatch of the Hummer.
                  Russ reached forward and grabbed the Beretta from the roof of the car. The younger man who had stepped out of the trucks produced an AK-47 in a flurry of robes. The two passenger side doors of the leading truck sprung opened two men jumped out, with more AK-47s, taking a knee, aiming up at Russ. The driver of both trucks fired up their engines. Over the idle of the engines, Russ could hear the gunner behind him quicken his breath even more.
                  Russ raised his left hand and slowly continued sliding his Beretta into its holster, “Hang on guys, I’m just putting the gun away.” The men aiming a gun at him did not flinch nor lower their weapons. Russ, continuing to work slowly, put his hands on each side of the roof opening and in one smooth motion pulled his legs out of the cab, swung them over the roof and launched himself to the ground. The AK-47s followed his every move.
                  “Enough, if he wanted to attack us, he wouldn’t have given up the higher ground or the armored vehicles,” the old man said in a strong voice that belied his frail stature. The younger men shot glances at the older man, then at each other then slowly lowered their rifles. The drivers of the two trucks shut down their engines again. Russ strode forward to meet the older man who did his best to meet Russ half way.
                  “I am sorry for my men, they get nervous for me,” the old man said. He did not offer a hand.
                  “That’s alright, they should be nervous, this is a tough area. Besides, it’s always good to see well trained men and I have no doubt these are well trained men,” Russ offered.
                  “You are too kind.”
                  “I have no doubt they would have had you back in your car and on its way in moments if we had hostile intentions.”
                  “And I have no doubt it still would not have been enough, your men would have cut us all down.”
                  “Most likely. But I’m glad it didn’t come to that,” Russ played his role, offering compliments but never undermining his own position of power nor the abilities of his men. He had become used to--even good at--these preliminary conversations that the locals felt the need to add to the start of every conversation. Since each side knew the other was simply paying hollow compliments, he did not see the need in them but he knew it was easier to play along than fight it.
                  “Well, let’s get down to business,” the old man said, “You want to know where Ajmal is.”
                  “Yes, we do. Can you help us?” Russ asked.
                  “That I can. And it is my pleasure to help you fight such scum,” the old man said. Russ laughed in his own head. Ajmal and the old man were to Russ the same. Neither held any love or loyalty to the US and its mission. Ajmal just happened to be aligned with al Qaeda, so the old man knew that he could leverage the US Army to do his dirty work. “Here is his address, it’s a safe house. Initially it will look like one of a thousand other apartment houses. But no, this is his den,” the old man spit of the ground accentuating his disgust with Ajmal.
                  Russ took the crumpled up piece of paper he was offered. He looked down at the rumpled piece of paper, the ink bleeding around the edges of every letter but Russ could still easily make out an address and GPS coordinates. The old man wasn’t taking any chances. That was one thing Russ and the old man agreed upon. Russ folded the paper and tucked into one of the breast pockets of the vest he wore over his flak