We took our second casualty not long after we cleared the church.
Mario had done exactly as I asked. The church had about ten windows along the nave walls—five on each side—and two more by the choir loft. Most of them were now manned by a recruit, each one watching and aiming his rifle outward into the unknown. Their faces were pale and drawn, but they were alert.
Outside, our perimeter was beginning to take shape. Men hugged the stone walls and low fences of the surrounding houses. They were crouched in twos and threes, their eyes locked on the narrow lanes leading in from the presidencia and the southern road.
Two of our men were crossing the churchyard—perhaps sent to retrieve more ammunition or check on a comrade—when a sharp, echoing crack split the air.
One was cut down where he stood, right at the center of the yard.
