His gaze swept the room, saw the wounded man lying in spreading blood, the thinner figure curled up and shivering, obviously near death! Tomorrow he would certainly lie to the next person?

Vargas stared out the window, clutching his dark satchel with a death grip. The only thing new he'd learned was that civilians were the bandits on the tape, civilians equipped with mortars and some kind of central organization—maybe the same group that had called in the Harry on Chicago.