The Terrorist always brought his own fork and knife to the cafeteria. Something about hygiene, he’d mumbled.The Terrorist, carrying his metal tray o... fruit and bread, hard-boiled eggs, walked over to meet us, tracing his footsteps on the floor as if he were walking a tightrope. He didn’t look so hot. His face was pale as milk.He sat down to the foreigner table, next to a pair of quiet, clean-cut young teachers. Chunky, and with androgynous features and haircuts, they looked like cult members.. “You can kill people with it.”Annalisa didn’t reply as she thought about what he said. Jake could tell, though, that the thought of using a rifle to shoot a person upset her – her languid body, which had been relaxed and alluring, was now more controlled; almost tense.“These women,” Annalisa said, finally. “They fought with rifles? How? It would be a very short battle.”“It was,” Jake admitted. “But there is a smaller weapon only about this long,” he held out his hands in front of him. “You can. More

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