through the passport checkpoint, Amir stared curiously at a man nearing the exit. He reminded Amir of Jamal Hussein. He and Jamal had spent countless hours during their years of friendship analyzing a mutual distaste for Islam. He replayed in his mind a conversation last week at Via Seven, their favorite, out of the way bar in Amman. “I suppose I’m the real fool for staying here.” Amir sipped his second Amstel Light. He wrapped both hands around the moist glass and touched his lower lip to the rim. “If