"The compound was like a mutant Boy Scout camp: all green tents and vehicles and barrels, smack in the middle of nowhere. He saw a troop of soldiers drilling in a field. They reminded him of high school football players with guns. Then a tank rolled past. “Shit! What’s that?” “That is an Abrams M1A battle tank, sir!” Billy looked around with new respect. Now he understood why the NRA membership fees were so high."