Ranger’s still glowering and fragging near gnashing his teeth, and my wire still wants to kill him. So I tell him, "Look, chummer, if it’ll make you feel any better to hear me say I’m sorry, well, frag, I’m sorry. Mea maxima culpa and all that horsedrek. But remember I got three crates of rifles, the Bulldog, and two able-bodied solders"—I indicate me and Paco—"out of a fragging untenable position. If you think anybody else could have done a better job against a double FRT squad, then I’d like to hear about it."