To hide my fear, I took my time turning back toward Allmand. Finally, I said, “I’ll answer your question if you answer mine.”

Allmand said, “What’s your question?”

“I’m curious how you survived the blast in Jalalabad.”

He stepped a little farther into the living room. “I bailed out into a ditch just as the first rocket hit the car. I was fifty yards away by the time the second rocket destroyed it. The savages that shot the rockets only looked for me right around the car. When you ran, they all chased you. I waited to retrieve the plutonium, but the Army beat me to it.” Now he gave me a glare and said, “Now answer my question. Why aren’t you surprised to see me?”

I said, “The Department of Homeland Security agent who arrested you last time? She called me to tell me their computers picked up that you entered the country through Kennedy. I figured you’d make it here eventually.”

Allmand let out a laugh. “You knew I was coming and I still caught you alone and unprepared. Typical.”

“Who said I was alone? Or, unprepared, for that matter.”

Just then, my friend Hassan, from the convenience store in Newburgh, and his two brothers, appeared at Allmand’s sides.

Allmand jerked his right hand out of his pocket. He held a semiautomatic pistol. He fired one wild round toward me. Before I could react, the gun was pointed at me. The sound of the shot felt like a bomb in my house. I figured my time had finally run out.

That’s when I saw the hole in the arm of my couch. My nice leather couch. The one I’d bought on discount but still could barely afford. The bullet had ripped the leather, then shattered the armrest, which tore the leather even more.

My fear shifted more to anger. Sure, I was pissed that the only nice piece of furniture I owned was ruined. But my experience in Afghanistan caught up to me. Even as Hassan’s two beefy brothers subdued the frantic Allmand, I moved to deliver my licks.

Just before I launched a kick that I intended to split his testicles, I stopped myself. I froze, staring at this man who had caused me so much pain. Kicking him felt like torture, and I wasn’t going to stoop to his level.

I let Hassan’s brothers manhandle Allmand for just a moment, then said, “This is Hassan. Recognize him?”

Allmand growled, “Just another one of your Muslim buddies.”

“That’s true, he’s a friend of mine. One you and Jackson held illegally at the prison up in the mine shaft.” I could see the color drain out of his face. He was starting to understand what was happening.

He struggled for a second and said, “You guys are insane.”

“Is that for us to use as our defense if we get caught?”