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holes or flecks of brain matter inside. I’ve seen it before. Bad luck and all that.”
    I saw the sweat stains on the green webbing inside my helmet and thought about what Miriam had said. She was right, whatever Peter might say. These helmets had been used and re-used. With money tight for peacekeeping, allowances had to be made. I put on my helmet, tightened the chinstrap, and instantly felt ridiculous, like an impostor. My buds at the Star would probably wet themselves laughing at seeing me dressed like this. We helped each other with the Velcro straps of the body armor, making sure that our radiation monitors were not obstructed by the material. I was pleased when Miriam turned down Peter’s offer of assistance and asked me to help.
    Peter pretended that it didn’t bother him when I stood behind her and gingerly pulled the straps tight against her. It seemed a special, intimate moment, and I had an urge just to stand there, my hands around her slim waist. Then Miriam turned and smiled and said, “Fine. Let’s go, then.”
    We followed the lead Toyota again, though slower, and Peter said, “I still don’t like what happened. Spoof or no spoof, someone’s fucking with our heads. This place is supposed to be pacified. I don’t like it, not at all.”
    â€œMaybe it was the kids,” I said again, seeing how the land was beginning to rise up, fences with barbed wire and fields all around us. Some of the mist started to burn off.
    â€œWell, maybe it was the daddies of those kids, looking to see what we do in case we spot a booby trap or obstruction in the roadway. Now they know our hand signals, how we’ll disperse, the distances we aim to put between each other. Easier for them to take us out.”
    â€œSo,” Miriam said, trying to lean forward to talk to us without bumping her helmeted head on the roof of the Toyota. “What should we do? Go back to the hotel? Try to fill the swimming pool? Is that it?”
    â€œNo, but Jean-Paul could get on the horn there and get us some backup, besides that Marine,” Peter said. “I’d feel a hell of a lot better with an APC in front of us, that’s for sure.”
    I folded my arms, saw brake lights come on again up front. “Aren’t enough to go around, you know that.”
    Miriam added, “Besides, this area’s pacified. That’s what all the maps said.”
    â€œSure,” Peter said. “But remember what Sammy here said last night. Did anybody tell the paramilitaries what kind of maps they should be using?”

    Then we all shut up as the lead Toyota turned right and started going up a dirt driveway. We followed and I swung my head around, to check on the third Land Cruiser. Sanjay and Karen were back there but I didn’t see any laughter, any smiles. It’s hard to stay in a good mood while wearing a helmet and body armor. I saw something else I didn’t like: two black mailboxes, torn from their wooden posts and flung to the ground.
    The driveway went up about a hundred meters, and Peter said, “I surely do take it all back. That sure don’t look like a spoof to me, mates, does it now?”
    I didn’t answer, just trying to take it all in. There had once been a large farmhouse here, with a barn and a couple of outbuildings. But the windows were all shattered and there were scorch marks where fires had burned. In front was a large dirt turnaround and all three Land Cruisers maneuvered so that they were facing back down the driveway, for easy escape. A tractor was on its side, and a pickup truck was on flat tires, its body rust-red from having burned some time ago. We got out and Jean-Paul motioned us to stay behind. I felt my hands quivering as Charlie went into the rear of his Toyota and came out hefting a utility belt from which hung various items of equipment. He was also holding an M-16 rifle. Unlike the rest of us, his helmet looked like it belonged