Snake Eyes had always been the mystery man, the one who spoke in a low voice, who never drew attention to himself. He had learned to be quiet as a boy back on the farm. Speak loudly, and that's when you missed things, the wren singing, the dragonfly sunning its wings. Sometimes he found that same peace on the battlefield, but rarely. Ever since he came back from Nam, his life had been one fire after another, outside and in. He wanted to be that country boy again. He wanted to walk down the street, maskless, without hearing children scream.