The young men hurriedly assembled their H&K XM8 rifles,their hands trembling as they slid magazines into place.
This had once been the place where Maria Preece ate her meals—a home where she studied,a family space where arguments sometimes erupted.
Now, firearms lay scattered about as if they belonged there,the sharp scent of gun oil thick in the air.Several men stood nearby, clad in bulletproof vests.
As though his life until now had been a lie—the Father, violently torn from a dream and forced back into reality,looked out over what had become their habitat.