I am on my way to Rome in a Black Hawk helicopter, with the president and my team. I am sitting with my legs out of the helicopter. The world seems so normal from up here. But go down a little bit and you will see the madness crawling in the streets. Will this ever end? Will there be a day when I will go out to the city without a weapon in my hand? I suppose there will be, but our generation won’t live to see it. Jeter sits down beside me.
“I’ve had enough for today. I don’t want you to give me some psycho bullshit.” I say, turning my gaze away from him.
“You know, we both want to hate each other but we can’t. The simple reason is that we are a lot more alike than you think.” He says. I look at him, surprised.
“Well, excuse me, because I didn’t kill my friend over a cigarette. Nor do I
