Sand, endless sand, shimmered with scorching waves of heat beneath the midday sun. Iraq, this land repeatedly plowed by war, reeked of gunpowder and rust, even in the air. The hood of a U.S. Army Humvee shimmered and warped in the heat. Nick Bailey wiped the scorching sweat from his forehead. The back of his camouflage uniform was already soaked, clinging to his skin, sticky and itchy. He narrowed his eyes, gazing past the window at the monotonous ocher horizon, then looked back down at the piece of parchment in his hand, softened by sweat.
