“Xo Dong had died violently, the victim of a terrorist raid that had burned houses and fields and sent bullets smashing into women and children. Half the houses were razed, and provisions and river boats were stolen. Everything was stripped. Only a few rags moved forlornly from a rope of washing down by the river. It was nine o’clock in the morning. A small tributary stream ran along the main village street and emptied into the wider river that came out of the gorge, three miles east along t...he border. This time, the absence of villagers was permanent. No one challenged them as they carefully entered the wrecked town. Not even a dog or a chicken had been left alive. “Why did they do it?” Benjie murmured. “Maybe because of Mike.” “I don’t understand that.” “Maybe they gave Mike shelter and help,” Durell said. “Don’t think about it.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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