By Michael Bonner
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Additional resources for Aristocratic Violence and Holy War: Studies in the Jihad and the Arab-Byzantine Frontier
He ﬁred, aiming well above the close-packed cars on the street, spraying a short burst over the heads of the Dignity Battalion troopers. That single burst was enough to convince them that they weren’t in quite such a hurry as they’d believed. Two sprawled ﬂat on the pavement; the other three ﬂed. Civilians screamed and scrambled for cover; some were abandoning their autos, leaving others to helplessly lean on their horns in frustrated immobility. Turning, then, Greg raced after Jaco, who was already vaulting the red-and-white-striped guardrail at the checkpoint.
I thought so,” Cahill said, nodding. “Excuse me a sec- CASUALTIES OF WAR 53 ond,” he said. ” He walked out of the room, and for several minutes, Greg was alone with that map. He didn’t need to take notes. The street Calle 61 Este was clearly marked; the map number and the coordinates of a particular quadrangle were easily memorized. Cahill reentered the room. “Okay, Chief. I have to go, now. Meeting with the NAVSPECWAR staff. ” Cahill put the map away, relocked the locker, and ushered Greg out of the brieﬁng room, which he locked behind him.
In particular those operating under the jurisdiction of USSOCOM and Naval Special Warfare. ” Greg turned to leave. ” “Oh, yes you have,” Sandoval said cheerfully. “Why don’t you try getting that stick out of your ass, Fred? ” “Have a great day, sir,” Cahill said. “And . . thanks, Colonel,” Greg added. ” Greg pulled the door shut on a sputtering Hoyt and followed the other two back out of the building and into the steamy heat of the early Panamanian evening. “You tromped on Hoyt pretty hard in there,” Sandoval told Greg.