"O Allah, I beg You to bless my hearing and my eyesight…"
"Do you have to do that?" he mutters.
"Do what?"
"That fake prayer crap," he says. "Save it for your propaganda videos."
Blood rushes hot to my face.
"How … dare … you!"
My microphone hisses.
"Save the pillow talk for later," Staff-Sergeant Daksh says. "Here comes the truck."
"We're on," I say.
Dillon peers back down his scope.
I focus the binoculars. The transport vehicle slows down to weave its way through the barricades which block the opposite side of the bridge. It rolls to a stop in front of the first checkpoint. The guards come out. The driver hands down his orders and his ID.
Dillon aims at the guard directly next to the driver side door.
"How many yards?" Dillon asks.
"Eleven hundred three sixty two."
"Wind sp
