|Product dimensions:||5.50(w) x 8.20(h) x 1.20(d)|
About the Author
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As he walked, he congratulated himself on his success. He made weapons, but didn’t consider himself a warrior. He was a bomb maker, a person who killed unseen and from a safe distance. All bombs came from a small, scheming, self-protective part of the mind. No bomb came from bravery. At most they were cunning or imaginative, cleverly disguised as something harmlessor even appealing. The Russians used to use helicopters to drop small delayed bombs designed to look like toys so Afghan children would try to pick them up. The monumental cynicism that led to the design of those devices still excited and amazed him.One of his specialties was making bombs that came from his observations about human impulses and temptations. He liked small, routine-looking bombs that would beguile a bomb technician and tempt him to try to defuse it. The technician’s efforts would then set off a bigger bomb he hadn’t seen or imagined was hidden nearby. He loved the power. He had the ability to obliterate anything he wanted. And he liked the perversity of bombs, the way he could make his enemies use their own skill and intelligence and selflessness and braveryespecially braveryto kill themselves. When he wanted to be, he was death.