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It
took
me
seven
tries
to
walk
in
a
straight
line
.
Two
sentries
were
posted
on
the
road
leading
to
the
section
of
the
base
under
U
.
S
.
jurisdiction
.
They
were
huge
,
each
man
carrying
a
high
-
power
rifle
in
arms
as
big
around
as
my
thighs
.
Their
physiques
made
them
look
like
suits
of
armor
on
display
.
They
didn
’
t
have
to
say
a
word
to
let
passersby
know
who
was
in
charge
.
Cluster
bombs
could
have
rained
from
the
sky
,
and
these
guys
would
have
held
their
ground
,
unblinking
,
until
they
received
direct
orders
to
do
otherwise
.
If
you
kept
them
in
the
corner
of
your
eye
and
headed
for
the
main
gate
,
you
’
d
be
on
the
path
I
’
d
taken
when
I
tried
going
AWOL
on
my
third
time
through
the
loop
.
Running
would
be
easy
.
With
what
I
’
d
learned
,
I
could
probably
avoid
the
Mimic
ambush
and
make
it
to
Chiba
City
.
But
today
I
had
another
objective
in
mind
.
It
was
10
:
29
.
I
was
standing
in
the
sentries
’
blind
spot
.
With
my
eighty
-
centimeter
stride
,
the
sentries
were
exactly
fifteen
seconds
from
where
I
stood
.
A
gull
flew
overhead
.
The
distant
roar
of
the
sea
blended
with
the
sounds
of
the
base
.
My
shadow
was
a
small
pool
collected
at
my
feet
.
There
was
no
one
else
on
the
path
.
An
American
fuel
truck
passed
by
.
The
sentries
saluted
.
I
had
to
time
my
walk
just
right
.
Three
,
two
,
one
.
The
truck
approached
a
fork
in
the
road
.
An
old
cleaning
lady
carrying
a
mop
stepped
out
in
front
of
the
truck
.
Brakes
squealed
.
The
truck
’
s
engine
stalled
.
The
sentries
turned
toward
the
commotion
,
their
attentions
diverted
for
a
few
precious
moments
.
