As a police officer, I’d given similar directives enough times to understand the unspoken subtext. Any move even mildly suggestive of reaching for a weapon—or of bringing a weapon hidden in a cyberlimb to bear—would bring instant retaliation. And given the fact that we were in a war zone and that these were not police officers who needed to justify the use of lethal force, I was extra careful. I did exactly as the soldier directed, sliding off the back of the motorcycle and keeping my hands open and in view.