Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
It's not so much the decisions a man does make that mark him as a Man—but the ones he refrains from making. Like the Read locked the door and drew his pistol. Sergeant Rashid handed "We're from the UN Inspector Corps," Sergeant Rashid said. "I'm "I don't know your language," Rashid said. "Corporal Read is very young," Rashid said, "but he's a crack Rashid judo chopped him and swung the inert body over his catatonic trance. A little car skimmed across the lawn. Bearing the Scourge of Africa, Rashid struggled toward it. Read walked backward, "Thanks," Rashid said. "I don't think I hurt him." Rashid took a syrette from his vest Staring straight ahead, he didn't see the sergeant smile. Two types of recruits are accepted by the UN Inspector Corps: those with a fanatic loyalty to the ideals of peace and world order, and those who are loyal to nothing but themselves. Read was the second type. A tall, lanky Negro he had spent his school days in one of the drab suburbs that ring every prosperous American city. It was the home of factory workers, clerks, semiskilled technicians, all who do the drudge work of civilization and know they will never do limits of life's possibilities. He had belonged to a gang called The Golden Spacemen. "Nobody fools with me," he bragged. "When Harry Read's out, there's a tiger running loose." No one knew how many times he nearly ran from other clubs, how carefully he picked the safest spot on the battle line. "A man ought to be a man," he once told a girl. "He ought to do a man's work. Did you ever notice how our fathers look, how they sleep so much? I don't want to be like that. I want to be something proud." good as a trade school. If you have to be a soldier." "I want to be a UN man. I've already enlisted. I'm in! What do you care what I do?" The UN Inspector Corps had been founded to enforce the Nuclear Twice he nearly got expelled for picking fights with smaller men. Rather than resign, he accepted punishment which assigned him to weeks of dull, filthy extra labor. He hated the restrictions and the iron fence of regulations. He hated boredom, loneliness and isolation. And yet he responded with enthusiasm. They had given him a job. A something and you go out and win a medal. That's great for me. I'm lazy and I like excitement." day he took control the new dictator and his African party began to build up the Belderkan Army. For years he had preached a new Africa, united, free of white masters, the home of a vigorous and perfect Negro society. His critics called him a hypocritical racist, an opportunist using the desires of the African people to build himself an empire. He began a propaganda war against neighboring South Africa, promising the liberation of that strife-torn land. Most Negro leaders, having just won representation in the South African Parliament, told him to liberate his own country. They believed they could use their first small voice in the government to win in the car." "Don't be certain, corporal. All these strong-arm movements are alike. I'll bet Umluana's lieutenants are hoping he'll become a dead legend. Then they can become live conquerors." Sergeant Rashid came from Cairo. He had degrees in science and history from Cambridge but only the Corp gave him work that satisfied his conscience. He hated war. It was that simple. Read looked back. He saw three spots of sunlight about two hundred feet up and a good mile behind. Rashid turned his head. He waved frantically. The two men in the "Evade," Rashid said. "Don't go down." "Hit the floor," Rashid said. They knelt on the cramped floor. Rashid put on his gas mask and Rashid raised his eyes above the seat and looked out the rear Sergeant Rashid looked out the window again. He swore bitterly in "How much farther?" Rashid said. The masks muffled their voices. "Are you ready, Rashid?" yelled the driver. "He's in the booth. What's going on?" Rashid's Middle East Oxford Rashid swore. "You heard him, Read! Get out there and help those Above the noise, he heard Rashid. out of here. Until it comes, we've got to hold them back." Read thought of the green beret he had stuffed in his pocket that stared through the murk, across the broken glass. He was Corporal He heard a shout in rapid French. He turned to his right. Men in red loincloths ran zigzagging toward the station. They carried In a moment only half a dozen masked men still advanced. The inspectors fired a long, noisy volley. When they stopped only four attackers remained on their feet. And they were running for Sergeant Rashid ran crouched from man to man. He did what he "Well, corporal, how are you?" "How do you think they'll treat us?" An occasional bullet cracked and whined through the misty room. Near him a man gasped frantically for air. On the sunny field a wounded man screamed for help. "We'll stop them, Sarge. Don't worry." Rashid ran off. Read stared across the green land and listened to the pound of his heart. What were the Belderkans planning? A mass frontal attack? To sneak in over the top of the hill? He didn't think, anymore than a rabbit thinks when it lies hiding from the fox or a panther thinks when it crouches on a branch above the trail. His skin tightened and relaxed on his body. He looked nervously from side to side. They couldn't bring the copter in with that thing squatting out there. A few feet away, sprawled behind a barricade of tables, lay a man burned, or cut up by shrapnel, or gassed with some new mist their masks couldn't filter. Read shut his eyes. All around him he heard heavy breathing, mumbled comments, curses. Clothes rustled as men moved restlessly. But already the voice of Sergeant Rashid resounded in the murky For two years Read had served under Sergeant Rashid. To him, the sergeant was everything a UN inspector should be. Rashid's devotion to peace had no limits. Read's psych tests said pride alone drove him on. That was good enough for the UN they only rejected men whose loyalties might conflict with their duties. But an assault on the tank required something more than a hunger for self-respect. Read had seen the inspector who covered their getaway. He had watched their escort charge three-to-one odds. He had seen building, lay battered men and dead men. All UN inspectors. All part of his life. And he was part of their life. Their blood, their sacrifice, and Rashid snapped orders. He put the German inspector in charge of "Remember," Rashid said. "We have to knock out that gun." Rashid whistled. "I'm hit, too," Rashid said. "Don't stop if you can move." Listen to him. What's he got, a sprained ankle? But he didn't feel any pain. He closed his eyes and threw himself "Sergeant Rashid! Answer me." He knew they would see him when he stood up but he didn't think about that. He didn't think about Sergeant Rashid, about the complicated politics of Africa, about crowded market streets. He decided something in the world was more important than himself, but he didn't know it or realize the psychologists would be surprised to see him do this. He had made many decisions in the

<question>:
Which of these is the best description of Sergeant Rashid?

<options>:
A A corps member uniquely devoted to amity and concord.
B An excellent strategist and the best man to have watching your back.
C An excellent marksman but an even better negotiator.
D A man outwardly dedicated to peace but inwardly in search of a fight.

<answer>:

A