Inside each, more screams. As the helicopters passed overhead, one of the passengers, a man the Night Stalker crew had never seen before and would never see again, dropped a canister no bigger than a Pepsi can into the village square.
Another fighter pounced beside this one and clubbed him in the head with a rifle. Tahir watched as one of the Taliban fighters shot another and then immediately brought the rifle beneath his own chin in a sudden ruby spout.
The target had been rated mostly empty. Still the man stood, wrist jerking half a dozen times, as if he''d actually been firing at Tahir. Four shadowy figures of various sizes spun and collapsed. It sounded like an entire clip emptying.
There, the headlights of a stock-still van cast a muted glow onto the cramped main square. The Americans would come back or send the Afghan narcotics police to burn the fields. Her face pushed to the ground, her chadri ripped away as both men struggled with their own pants. The gunfire awoke Tahir al-Umari, who rose slowly and grumbled at his stirring children to remain quiet as he pulled on sandals.
While at Ferris State University, he has been the primary author of the bachelor of science degree in information security and intelligence and the master of science in information security and intelligence. Prior to Ferris, he worked as a programmer, database administrator, systems analyst and project manager at small and multinational corporations. Tahir and his neighbor locked eyes across the distance between them, both with hands half lifted in confusion.
The neighbor quickly retreated into his house, while Tahir stepped fully outside. Inside each, more screams. And, Now maybe the Taliban will move on to some other place.
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Now, perhaps, it didn''t matter. Clutching his face, something dripping and red hanging between his fingers.
He and his sons now owned and worked eleven acres, and nine were planted with poppy. A woman--Padja''s wife, he thought--had been pulled down by two other men he knew well.
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The gunfire awoke Tahir al-Umari, who rose slowly and grumbled at his stirring children to remain quiet as he pulled on sandals. Tahir watched as one of the Taliban fighters shot another and then immediately brought the rifle beneath his own chin in a sudden ruby spout.