"Gentlemen, we are winning a great victory; the war will soon be over."
The door to the computer room toppled outward, frame and all, after several ceaseless hours of cutting. The impact left the hallway of armed men silent and still, like specters in the unreal light from the glowing acetylene torch. Just inside the doorway stood a man, his youth belied by wise and thoughtful eyes, grinding a cigarette under his foot. And as he stepped through the wrecked and twisted door frame not a hand was raised against him.