Abbas took a seat in one of the chairs.

Greg Welch stood near the corner of the room.

“Please,” Abbas said, indicating the food and drink.

Luke sipped his tea. It was hot and very, very sweet.

“We are here because we want to ask you a few questions,” Luke said. He waited for Welch to translate.

The old man nodded. “I know. You are Americans?”

Luke nodded. “Yes.”

Abbas Antar spoke for several seconds. He spoke without pause, but his voice was calm and his face impassive.

“You will forgive me,” Greg Welch said in English. “The Americans came in the darkness before sunrise one day. Big men, much like you. They came in battle helicopters, with heavy weapons, screaming and kicking down doors. They took my son and daughter away from me, and away from their mother. They also took my leg. They took our hope, and our futures. They broke us, and broke our village, and then they left as quickly as they came. There was never an explanation, and never an apology. And now they—you—are back. And you wish to ask me questions. Which is good, because I wish to ask you questions as well.”

“I am sorry for your loss, and your pain,” Luke said. “I will answer your questions the best I can. But first, I am in a great hurry, and I must talk to you about your son Hashan.”

Abbas Antar nodded. “Yes, I know. It appears that my son, who I love very much, is the most wanted man on Earth. I am a little surprised that it has taken this long for you to come to me.”

“Has anyone else come?”

Abbas shook his head. “No. I think that no one has identified him before now.”

“How did you know it was him? Have you spoken with him?”

Abbas made a face of exaggerated surprise. “No. I have not spoken with Hashan in more than eighteen months. Nor has his mother. You must understand that, after the American attack, he left here on a suicide mission. He would gain his revenge, not for Allah, but for himself. He was never a religious boy. He believed in science! He believed in enlightened thinking! The Greek philosophers, the Arab and European astronomers and mathematicians. Never the religious sages. He had no patience for it. But when his beloved sister and brother died, he went to die as well.”

Antar’s voice choked and trailed off for a moment. He looked at the floor between his left foot and the simple metal platform that functioned as his right foot.