Inside Gaza An Arms Dealer S Tale
Bahar nodded to one of his sons, who had been leaning against a cinderblock wall and watching us without saying anything. The lanky young man disappeared for a moment inside the house, and then returned carrying a new-looking semiautomatic rifle, slick with resin and grease. For my notes, I asked for the kid’s name and age. The arms dealer frowned. “I don’t know how old he is,” he said, a little disdainfully....