take her to the office to do some photocopying now is it.”
“So where could she be? Apart from that Senka bird coming to see me I’ve heard nothing, nothing at all and it’s been bloody days now.”
John squints hard, pinching the bridge of his nose. His eyes feel like they’ve been dipped in sand, he needs sleep but he also knows the clock is ticking.
“Yeah I know, I’ve been giving that some thought. There’s a lot of ground to cover here Paula, I think it’s time for plan B.”
Paula blows smoke through the open window. “Plan B? I didn’t know there was a Plan A.”
Picking up his iPhone John scrolls through his contacts and starts to text. Paula stands watching as his thumbs bounce around the screen.
“Who are you texting?”
Without looking up John hits send and then starts composing another message. “Calling in a few favours.”
“Favours from who?”
He looks up and catches his sister’s worried look. “Don’t worry Paula, all being well, the cavalry will be here soon.”
Chapter 12
----
Route Heretic â North West Baghdad Iraq 33° 25â 51.99âN â 44° 16â 37.66E
A ribbon of worn tarmac runs across the Iraqi desert, scattered buildings and tatty settlements cluster at the crumbling edges of the sun-bleached asphalt.
Speeding down the highway are three dusty Armoured Toyota Land Cruisers travelling at a uniform distance from each other. Spare wheels are lashed down on roof racks and large whip antennas sway on heavy-duty front bumpers that were built for ramming.
The vehicles make up an armed protection team from one of the many International security companyâs working in Iraq.
Inside the land cruisers sit surly security operators in black ops vests, wrap-around black sunglasses and Protec helmets. They swelter in the furnace like heat as the vehicles air con system roars on maximum. The operators are heavily armed; wear curly wurly earpieces and two days growth on their faces.
In the front passenger seat of the lead vehicle is ex-paratrooper Phil Bridge. Philâs boxerâs face and bonehead haircut matches his uncompromising attitude. During his Army service he had proved himself a professional soldier and loyal friend that could be relied on in a tight spot. However, his problems with officers and authority in general had put the brakes on a promising career, he just couldnât keep his mouth shut. If it needed to be said then Phil was just the type of guy to say it, and bollocks to what anyone else thought. He wasnât bothered though; he couldnât care less, he was quite happy in the turmoil of Iraq with no one his back.
Phil was in the sandpit working as the team leader of the APT, but as with most things in his world, he was cynical about providing close protection for the oil companies that were conducting seismic surveys in central and southern Iraq. But oil was now Iraqâs future, and with the country officially confirmed with reserves ranked third largest in the world at approximately 143 billion barrels, those oil companies were lining to invest.
Ex Soldiers regularly find themselves in high demand for security work in places like Africa and the Middle East, protecting companies and individuals working in high-risk environments. Its not only big business for the security providers, itâs also very lucrative for the operators involved. Get out there, see a bit of excitement, pump some iron and then its back home to blow your pop star wages on the latest sports car or pay off a lump of the mortgage.
Sat in the lead vehicle Philâs eyes alternated between the military specification GPS mounted on the dashboard and the distant traffic moving warily around him in the shimmering heat haze burning off the tarmac.
Philâs body armour felt like a heavy rigid corset as he struggled and twisted in his seat to check on the progress of the rear vehicle. Even at this distance he could clearly make out its tall CODAN whip
“So where could she be? Apart from that Senka bird coming to see me I’ve heard nothing, nothing at all and it’s been bloody days now.”
John squints hard, pinching the bridge of his nose. His eyes feel like they’ve been dipped in sand, he needs sleep but he also knows the clock is ticking.
“Yeah I know, I’ve been giving that some thought. There’s a lot of ground to cover here Paula, I think it’s time for plan B.”
Paula blows smoke through the open window. “Plan B? I didn’t know there was a Plan A.”
Picking up his iPhone John scrolls through his contacts and starts to text. Paula stands watching as his thumbs bounce around the screen.
“Who are you texting?”
Without looking up John hits send and then starts composing another message. “Calling in a few favours.”
“Favours from who?”
He looks up and catches his sister’s worried look. “Don’t worry Paula, all being well, the cavalry will be here soon.”
Chapter 12
----
Route Heretic â North West Baghdad Iraq 33° 25â 51.99âN â 44° 16â 37.66E
A ribbon of worn tarmac runs across the Iraqi desert, scattered buildings and tatty settlements cluster at the crumbling edges of the sun-bleached asphalt.
Speeding down the highway are three dusty Armoured Toyota Land Cruisers travelling at a uniform distance from each other. Spare wheels are lashed down on roof racks and large whip antennas sway on heavy-duty front bumpers that were built for ramming.
The vehicles make up an armed protection team from one of the many International security companyâs working in Iraq.
Inside the land cruisers sit surly security operators in black ops vests, wrap-around black sunglasses and Protec helmets. They swelter in the furnace like heat as the vehicles air con system roars on maximum. The operators are heavily armed; wear curly wurly earpieces and two days growth on their faces.
In the front passenger seat of the lead vehicle is ex-paratrooper Phil Bridge. Philâs boxerâs face and bonehead haircut matches his uncompromising attitude. During his Army service he had proved himself a professional soldier and loyal friend that could be relied on in a tight spot. However, his problems with officers and authority in general had put the brakes on a promising career, he just couldnât keep his mouth shut. If it needed to be said then Phil was just the type of guy to say it, and bollocks to what anyone else thought. He wasnât bothered though; he couldnât care less, he was quite happy in the turmoil of Iraq with no one his back.
Phil was in the sandpit working as the team leader of the APT, but as with most things in his world, he was cynical about providing close protection for the oil companies that were conducting seismic surveys in central and southern Iraq. But oil was now Iraqâs future, and with the country officially confirmed with reserves ranked third largest in the world at approximately 143 billion barrels, those oil companies were lining to invest.
Ex Soldiers regularly find themselves in high demand for security work in places like Africa and the Middle East, protecting companies and individuals working in high-risk environments. Its not only big business for the security providers, itâs also very lucrative for the operators involved. Get out there, see a bit of excitement, pump some iron and then its back home to blow your pop star wages on the latest sports car or pay off a lump of the mortgage.
Sat in the lead vehicle Philâs eyes alternated between the military specification GPS mounted on the dashboard and the distant traffic moving warily around him in the shimmering heat haze burning off the tarmac.
Philâs body armour felt like a heavy rigid corset as he struggled and twisted in his seat to check on the progress of the rear vehicle. Even at this distance he could clearly make out its tall CODAN whip
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