from that? And they’re letting even more in! It’s totally fucked up.’
Tom tried to think of some consoling words, discarding them as they came to him. It was one thing to be facing a life in a wheelchair, another when the home you were coming back to had become a war zone. ‘It can’t go on like this. It’ll run out of steam.’
That was the line he had taken with Delphine, to no avail. With Blakey it also fell wide of the mark. He snorted, his face reddening with rage. ‘And where’s the cops? I’m like this from fighting these bastards – and now they’re fucking taking over at home. They don’t deal with them, someone else is gonna have to.’
12
Tom’s plan, as soon as he touched down at Brize, was to hire a car and get to Hereford to see Delphine. But she wasn’t picking up. Perhaps she didn’t want to talk on the phone. Soon she’d see him face to face; that would start to mend things. The Lines could wait. For the first time in his military life he had no desire to touch base. It shocked him. He also wanted to go and see Dave’s girlfriend. He would have to work out what to say to her but he owed her a visit at the very least.
But he was knackered after the flight and grimy with the Afghan dust. He’d go home first, clean up. As he walked away from the Starlifter into the gloom of the English evening he wasn’t expecting any kind of reception. Least of all to see his CO.
Ashton was leaning on the bonnet of a Range Rover, arms folded. Despite the too-young hoodie and trackies, he exuded authority, having risen quickly from squadron commander to the Regiment’s CO. They were a tribe and he was the leader, all knowing, all seeing, whose word was law. But for all Tom’s love of the Regiment, there had always been a flicker of tension between the two men. As if Ashton threatened him in a way none of the others did, or something about Tom’s background rubbed him up the wrong way. There had been an unspoken understanding between them that they would ignore it and get on with the job.
But now was different. Ashton put out his hand. Tom took it, gave it one curt shake. ‘Thought we should check in before you head home.’
‘I’ve given a full account in Bastion. If you want me to go over it all again—’
Ashton cut him off. ‘I’ve read it. A few things have come up since.’
Tom held out a slim hope that the fragment of Qazi’s fatigues had tested positive for Dave’s blood.
‘The ANA’s conducting their own investigation. Seems they’re still suspicious about the nature of Dave’s death.’
‘I bet they are.’
‘But not in the way you’d expect. They’re focused on the fact that you were the last one to see him alive.’
‘So?’
‘They found your prints on his face and neck, and one of your hairs on his MTP.’
Tom felt his chest tighten as Ashton’s words sank in. ‘Of course they did. I’m the one who found him.’
There was an uncomfortable pause.
‘What – so I’m a suspect?’
‘They want to know if you’d argued, had some kind of disagreement over something.’
‘Like he beat me at cards so I cut his throat. What planet are they on?’
Ashton held up a hand. ‘It doesn’t help that we shipped you home in double-quick time before they had a chance to talk to you.’
‘For fuck’s sake.’ Tom smashed a fist on the bonnet of the Range Rover.
‘Steady. Just suck it up. There’s also the fact that you pointed the finger at one of theirs. Right now, this is the last thing the Regiment needs.’
‘So the ANA are claiming I ran amok, killed one of our own for no reason, helped defend the base against an attack and then tried to have a go at Qazi – again for no reason.’
Ashton didn’t reply. His look said it all.
‘This is so fucked up.’
‘The MoD agree with you on that one for sure.’
‘I should fucking hope they do.’
‘Not in the way you think. This couldn’t have come at a worse time. The DSF is in the midst of trying to
Tom tried to think of some consoling words, discarding them as they came to him. It was one thing to be facing a life in a wheelchair, another when the home you were coming back to had become a war zone. ‘It can’t go on like this. It’ll run out of steam.’
That was the line he had taken with Delphine, to no avail. With Blakey it also fell wide of the mark. He snorted, his face reddening with rage. ‘And where’s the cops? I’m like this from fighting these bastards – and now they’re fucking taking over at home. They don’t deal with them, someone else is gonna have to.’
12
Tom’s plan, as soon as he touched down at Brize, was to hire a car and get to Hereford to see Delphine. But she wasn’t picking up. Perhaps she didn’t want to talk on the phone. Soon she’d see him face to face; that would start to mend things. The Lines could wait. For the first time in his military life he had no desire to touch base. It shocked him. He also wanted to go and see Dave’s girlfriend. He would have to work out what to say to her but he owed her a visit at the very least.
But he was knackered after the flight and grimy with the Afghan dust. He’d go home first, clean up. As he walked away from the Starlifter into the gloom of the English evening he wasn’t expecting any kind of reception. Least of all to see his CO.
Ashton was leaning on the bonnet of a Range Rover, arms folded. Despite the too-young hoodie and trackies, he exuded authority, having risen quickly from squadron commander to the Regiment’s CO. They were a tribe and he was the leader, all knowing, all seeing, whose word was law. But for all Tom’s love of the Regiment, there had always been a flicker of tension between the two men. As if Ashton threatened him in a way none of the others did, or something about Tom’s background rubbed him up the wrong way. There had been an unspoken understanding between them that they would ignore it and get on with the job.
But now was different. Ashton put out his hand. Tom took it, gave it one curt shake. ‘Thought we should check in before you head home.’
‘I’ve given a full account in Bastion. If you want me to go over it all again—’
Ashton cut him off. ‘I’ve read it. A few things have come up since.’
Tom held out a slim hope that the fragment of Qazi’s fatigues had tested positive for Dave’s blood.
‘The ANA’s conducting their own investigation. Seems they’re still suspicious about the nature of Dave’s death.’
‘I bet they are.’
‘But not in the way you’d expect. They’re focused on the fact that you were the last one to see him alive.’
‘So?’
‘They found your prints on his face and neck, and one of your hairs on his MTP.’
Tom felt his chest tighten as Ashton’s words sank in. ‘Of course they did. I’m the one who found him.’
There was an uncomfortable pause.
‘What – so I’m a suspect?’
‘They want to know if you’d argued, had some kind of disagreement over something.’
‘Like he beat me at cards so I cut his throat. What planet are they on?’
Ashton held up a hand. ‘It doesn’t help that we shipped you home in double-quick time before they had a chance to talk to you.’
‘For fuck’s sake.’ Tom smashed a fist on the bonnet of the Range Rover.
‘Steady. Just suck it up. There’s also the fact that you pointed the finger at one of theirs. Right now, this is the last thing the Regiment needs.’
‘So the ANA are claiming I ran amok, killed one of our own for no reason, helped defend the base against an attack and then tried to have a go at Qazi – again for no reason.’
Ashton didn’t reply. His look said it all.
‘This is so fucked up.’
‘The MoD agree with you on that one for sure.’
‘I should fucking hope they do.’
‘Not in the way you think. This couldn’t have come at a worse time. The DSF is in the midst of trying to
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