June 7, 1998, 3:47 AM.
Lieutenant Alvarez's coffee pot had burnt dry for the third time.
He crouched beside the folding table, picking up the pot from the portable stove, the bottom already blackened and emitting a wispy blue smoke.
He poured a bit of mineral water into the pot, and with a sizzle, white mist rose, carrying with it a burnt smell. He poured the water out, refilled it with half a pot of water from Lake Tiberias, and placed it back on the stove.
The stove was burning brightly, with blue flames licking the pot's bottom, and soon the water began to bubble and boil.
At the eastern end of the bridge, the fog was thick.
In the distance, in the direction of Aleppo, the gunfire had stopped.
