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The little boy, 6 or 7 or 8, held the brass dish of wrapped hard candies above his waist. He knew he was standing next to a red ribbon stretched across the road for a reason. Probably a good reason, since there were so many men with guns and uniforms and helmets and sunglasses.

Suddenly the band on the other side of the ribbon struck up an oompah brass sound as white SUVs pulled up and braked, thickening the dust in the air which was already making him blink.