To Charlie, all your life would be worth is the price of a bullet. I will never forget Charlie. Neither would you. He looked like a modern-day pirate, and he was. A row of neatly arranged bullets sat on Charlie's desk. He was an ammunition expert, and his livelihood - his life - depended on knowing bullets. He knew how much they weighed, what they were made of and which guns they were for. And he knew how to use them. Charlie was a soldier - for-hire, and he would fight for whoever paid him. He fought, not for love of country, but rather for the love of fighting. The power of life and death was in his hands.
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