Returns 1 Anwar Sadiq whispered a silent prayer to Allah, clutched the American-made M4 assault rifle strapped around his neck, and glanced at his watch. He estimated that showtime was now only ten to fifteen minutes away. His eyes gleamed in the darkness, twin beacons framed by the folded black scarf that covered his head and face, their intensity and shine indicating intelligence and zealotry in equal measure—a lethal combination.
