" My husband, the man of words," Cathy said with a grin. "Now, shut offthe words so you can let those taste buds enjoy the spaghetti."Needless to say... more words escaped from both their lips during dinner,as savory as the meal was. Neither of them was a quick and quiet eater,and as usual a rundown of significant events during each of their workdays took place. It never ceased to amaze Ken that his wife was able todiscuss banking procedures without making them sound boring. It helpedthat so. " He says it is a race thing. I think your time in Afghanistan will come into it," the agent said."I have nothing more to say," I said.I went back to my holding cell and waited for Rita. I figured she would be about three more hours minimum. It was after noon before they took me back to the interview room. That made it twelve plus hours since my arrest."Sorry, I had to wait till the bank opened to take care of some things," Rita said."Checked my credit did you," I asked with a laugh."You know. “I dunno, I’ve just never been that adventurous. My friends always make fun of me and I kinda just wanted to shut them up, so I decided I’d try it. The fear of getting caught is the exact reason I never do stuff like this, and now look where I am. Why? How many times have you been skinny-dipping?” I asked, trying to put him in the hot seat a little. “Plenty of times,” he said, sitting back in his chair. “Plenty of times? Really?” I asked.“Yeah. Where I grew up we had a lake. A bunch of us would. .. a vision of siege,of knawing, bitter hunger; of rats toasted in half-built fires as adelicacy. Waves of men who surge, ebb, and overpower the walls ofJerusalem. The roar of a single voice rising from thousands of throats-Allahu Akbar and Saladin-over and over until the inexorable hammeringat the ramparts and gates die away in the rumble of yielding timbersand clattering stonework.Another memory... impacts of shield arm on Muslim helmets, of blows tohis armor, his sword hacked and notched,.