Utterly Mad

Kagame was growing more and more uneasy, waiting on the exposed street. While he'd usually wait for his compatriot to do all the talking, he was growing more and more tense with every passing second, and did not enjoy the idea of some unfriendly folks deciding to take advantage of having such excellent targets just milling around in front of what was supposed to be a secure U.N. safehouse. Kagoslov could take care of himself reasonably well, or at least talk himself out of whatever trouble he could possibly get into between their ride and the entrance less than three yards away. Provided he can extricate himself from whatever is holding him up inside the jeep, that is. Legs of a cheetah, and he's still always the last one set to go.

Besides, he muses, If any more of these U.N. boys come around the corner and decides to stand around trying to look tough, I might as well stop looking at this as a "co-operative operation" and start considering it a "poorly planned U.N trap". Time was wasting, and while he was sure the ranking U.N. officer had likely briefed his men on whatever the reason was that they were putting this little force together, no one had bothered to inform the militia as to exactly why they were there.

Stamping out his second cigarette, he turns around and bangs twice on the safehouse's front door, hard.

Time to get this show on the road.