Word: stiletto
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...hazy desert morning near Las Vegas, growling high-performance engines warn of unseen jet fighters. Images of war darken the imagination. Moments later four slender U.S. Air Force F-16 fighter-bombers are framed against a hot blue sky. From a distance they are lethal mosquitoes: stiletto nose, ! bulging belly, tightly angled wings. Passing over their target area, the fighters roll out into a curved line, vanishing behind a range of mountains. They are preparing to drop bombs on American soil, but groundlings needn't worry. The object is to dominate a point spread, not an enemy...
...other Soviet leaders he had dealt with: "Unlike ((Nikita)) Khrushchev, he has no inferiority complex. He is totally confident, in command, and secure . . . Gorbachev is as tough as ((Leonid)) Brezhnev but better educated, more skillful, more subtle . . . Brezhnev used a meat axe in his negotiations. Gorbachev uses a stiletto. But beneath the velvet glove he always wears there is a steel fist...
...dislike people. I'm a very friendly person, not mean or vicious. But you take a look at how you're perceived, and obviously you don't want that perception." Friends agree that since his marriage to Elizabeth, he has mellowed, replacing the hatchet with a stiletto. As often as not these days, he makes himself the butt of his own jokes. Reflecting on the 1976 campaign, he quips, "My assignment was to go for the jugular...
...show host, she as his co-host and a favorite soap-opera actress. Then, early last year, their lives went awry. The couple were on the verge of divorcing, and Vigoreaux was planning to marry a younger woman. On Jan. 17 his charred body, which showed at least eleven stiletto-type stab wounds, was discovered stuffed in the trunk of his red Mercedes-Benz on the outskirts of San Juan...
...clock in the evening is a slow, sullen hour in Sin City, a.k.a. Lost Wages. "I'm tired," whines a member of the United States Twirling Association. "C'mon, we're supposed to be having fun," snaps her companion, a clone. In razor-crease jeans and stiletto heels they stamp into the ladies' room, flounce around the corner past the polished washbasins and disappear into the two long rows of toilet stalls. They are the kind of girls who obey their mothers' warnings never to sit on strange toilet seats. Attendants have...