What's That Supposed To Mean?

Sig Sauer. Nine Millimetres. Thirteen In The Magazine. Big Bullets. One Of These Hits You And It Could Blow Your Head Off; Something Even The Magic Can't Fix. Other Than That You Should Be All Right, Presuming You Remembered To Wear The Regulation Above-ground Micro-fibre Jumpsuit Recently Patented By Me. Then Again, Being A Recon Jock, You Probably Didn't.

When The Moment Comes, Will You Take Your Chance To Be A Hero?

Play Along, The Wink Said. I'll Get You Out Of This. At Least Artemis Hoped This Was What His Wink Communicated And Not Something Like 'any Chance Of Another Kiss Later?

We Get An Apartment Together, And After A Whirlwind Courtship You Marry My Sister And Honeymoon In Vegas.

Nobody's Death Is Impending." ..."well Technically Everyone's Death Is Impending.