“The men at the Pass entrance have orders to open fire on anyone coming up to them if they hear firing from us,” he told David.They heard the Afghans before the saw them. They were trotting as they came out of the cleft, as Turin predicted, in lines four and five abreast. They were almost on top of the nearest trench when he and Turin opened fire. David aimed at the leader sitting on a beautiful white Arabian stallion; he fell dead with a bullet through his head. He worked the bolt and shot five more in as many seconds. Men were falling from their horses as the riflemen killed them. Horses were rearing and bucking and two went down shot. The Afghans had been taken completely unaware. Two bolted with their riders up the Pass and a few minutes later they heard gunfire from the entrance, then two empty horses came trotting back.The riflemen sprang from their trenches; the wounded were dispatched with their kukris as well as the two horses. One of the men in the fissure shouted that one. " "I've got to go. Good luck." The man had seen someone across the concourse and hurried away. ---- At first, when she entered the book fair, Rebecca drifted towards books about impressionist painters, which led her to the photography books, which led her in turn to the true crime books. She went from subject to subject, from children's books to philosophy, to 501 things to do with rubber bands. Time seemed to stand still whenever she was around books. There was a calming sureness about them, their smell, their finiteness. She held a fat biography just to feel the weight in her hand. Then she found the used books. She sniffed the pages of seventy-year-old pulp novels and caressed the cover of a leather-bound volume of Elizabethan poetry. She was vaguely aware of Jason having conversations with other people, occasionally, then she would find another treasure. ---- Jason moved to the next store- a nutritional supplement store that catered to body builders. A fine specimen of their.
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