“But we are a threat,” said Sam—softly, gravely. “We’re here for the bunker. And so are they, obviously. Or they’ve seized it already. I mean, look at what we’re driving. There’s a machine g*n on the roof, for—” “I say we shoot first,” interjected Nigel—after which he seemed shocked that he’d actually said it. “She’s right, I mean—S-sandahl. Sam. We are a threat; and there’s no point in trying to deny it. So are they. I mean, come on. You saw the banner. If that’s not a territorial claim, I don’t know what is. And they’re w*********h, anyway, mon. Stupid and dangerous on—” “Yo, pound sand!” snapped Lazaro. “I voted for Tucker, too, you know, and I’m not some crazed redneck you can just ...” He trailed off suddenly and looked around—as if for approval—but nobody said a word. “—on the fac
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