Page 50 of Rangers Mountain Rescue
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The man spits in the dirt.
“You don’t even know what you’re protecting.”
I lean closer.
“Try me.”
The man smiles.
Cold.
“Tank stole something.”
The words hit like a grenade.
“And we’re here to get it back.”
“Tank’s been dead for seven years,” I say.
“So what. He still stole something that belongs to us.”
