"—Do not commit yourself to anybody or anything for that is to be a slave, a slave to every man.
Independence is more precious than the gift in exchange for which independence is lost…. Above all, keep yourself free of commitments and obligations— they are the device of another to get you into his power—"
Baltasar Gracian
1601- 1658
The sun dipped slowly towards the horizon.
Its warm glow cast long shadows on the rough ground.
A few birds circled in the sky above.
On the ground, hundreds of feet below them, stood two men.
They wore brown-and-black striped uniforms; buttoned tactical shirts and cargo pants.
They stood with straight backs.
Their eyes locked on a wooden gate directly in front of them.
One of the men had his arms hanging loosely at his sides.
The other folded them across his chest, his fingers tapping impatiently against his sleeves.
"Any moment now…" He muttered.
