Dan nodded, looking toward the mess hall where he could hear the bustle of meal time.  "I should have figured... I'm sorry for your losses, I'm sure they were good men and women."  He crosses his arms, idly checking his sidearm before he does so, sliding the catch back to make sure a round is chambered before flipping the safety off and on again.  "This is one hell of a time for FARC to get rowdy... it just seems like an odd thing for them to do.  They usually don't pick fights if the U.N. is involved."<br/><br/>He sighed and shook his head.  "I just have a bad feeling about the whole situation... this has a good chance of turning into a bloodbath, and getting lots of people, innocent or combatants, killed needlessly.  It feels a little bit like Fallujah, to be perfectly honest."  As he mentioned the infamous former-insurgent stronghold, his thoughts turned to his squad mate and friend, Peter Gordon.  The fighting in the city had claimed his life on the second day of battle, the victim of an RPG hit on a Humvee.  "I just don't want to see anyone else killed."