"Yeah, that wasn't anything to get over," Ishaan half-snorted, half-laughed. "If you try real hard you might actually say something I haven't heard a thousand times already. At least you know I'm not a Dirty Mexican." He raised his mug at that, then lowered it to blow on it. "Small miracles." He paused, looking considerate. "So what is the right kind of brown for a terrorist? You cops got a darky litmus test or whatever? There a scale that says when someone's brown enough to blow themselves up for Allah but not dark enough to shoot twenty times during a routine stop? Or do you gotta guesstimate that shit?"