with a man who’s the best, with guns, with knives, with his bare hands. A man who’s been trained to ignore pain, ignore weather, to live off the land, to eat things that would make a billy goat puke.
Frein sounds like some sort of spook. He’s traveling overseas, he’s running around with Ukrainians in the woods playing soldier, he’s taking Russian and Serbian language classes, he talks of fighting with Serbians in Africa, he’s a weapons and tactics specialist, he’s got paperwork on foreign embassies in his car, no one can say what he’s been doing for the last decade or so, etc.