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won." He bobbed his head up, carefully reconnoitering, then briefly summarized what he saw, "Holy shit!" Climbing out from under him, Shannon also peeked her head up next to his. She whispered, nearly bug eyed, "I second that." There were at least two dozen huge, fiercely huge black men, any one of which alone would strike terror into any normal human. A ring of them were standing around the Explorer with their backs to the vehicle. Huge black Gods, Adonises, toting huge weapons, were outside. Beyond them, in the distance, others were dragging bodies and clearing debris. Sumner got out, looked around, and walked to the one who he perceived was the leader of these avenging angels. On tip toe, the old marine just kissed the big man right on the lips. "Man. I've got a wife you wouldn't believe, but you are the most beautiful thing I have EVER seen." It's OK. Men have kissed mountains before. This man was terra firma. Lines of power emanated from his gaze. Yet, this typhoon of humanity stood his ground with a mix of surprise and attentive readiness - still scanning the terrain. Fierce dangerousness oozed from his physical being, but with a blink of a twinkle in his eye, brief, ever so brief a twinkle of affirmation was made, as he wiped of his lips with the back of his massive hand. "Go to this address," is the only thing he said handing over a piece of paper. His voice was powerful, incapable of being argued with, and that was totally totally reassuring. Shannon was watching this from the open rear car door, still prone across the back seat. "My legs don't work," she explained, quickly assuring everyone that she wasn't shot. "Rubber. They're rubber." Frank went to her. "Hey, Irish, you did good. Com'on, up, up. Navigate. I've never
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