They may say they're in it for the money, but their death-defying bravado and warm malefriendships are as intense as those in any soldier-hero epic. The irrepressible, foul-mouthed, hard-drinkin' Jack Crow--decked out in high-tech chain mail and wielding a fearsome crossbow--is the leader of the bunch. He's the sort of manwho screams obscenities at the pope, and then (after a lot of booze) weeps in the pontiff's lap over the horrors he's witnessed.
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