Emily lunch and you find out answer!’
The lad handed Finn the tray.
‘Thank you!’ said Finn, balancing it expertly on the tips of his fingers. ‘Miss Emily, here I come . . .’
Mal and Angus leaped up to join him.
‘Oh no you don’t,’ Finn said.
Mal’s expression was deadly serious. ‘We’ll need to form a cordon.’
‘I’m the second i/c of your section and you’re staying here. That’s an order, McCall.’ Finn swept out, tray held aloft.
The boss came into the cookhouse in time to see Finn waltzing away with the tray. Jamie noticed him smile rapidly at the dark-skinned woman from Intelligence, who was sitting alone. The woman did not smile back.
‘Where’s Finn going with that tray?’ Weeks asked as he sat down.
Jamie grinned. ‘Undercover.’
The boss looked concerned.
‘I hope he’s not going to make a nuisance of himself.’
Finn still had not reappeared when the others went back to their base duties.
‘We’re out on patrol at 1500 hours,’ Sol said. ‘And there’s going to be big trouble if Finny’s not back.’
‘He’s probably just helping Emily sync her iPod,’ Jamie said. But neither of them was now so sure that Emily the sex grenade was just a joke.
Finn did reappear by the vehicles at precisely 1445, adjusting his clothes and grinning broadly. He winked at Angus and some of the other lads.
‘Whoops, I seem to have forgotten something!’ He bent ostentatiously to tie his bootlaces.
Sol put his hands on his hips.
Finn straightened, beaming and stretching lazily. ‘She just wouldn’t let me go! Fuck me, I could use a cigarette . . .’
‘Shut up and get into the wagon, you lazy bastard,’ Dave said.
Once the convoy was under way, Finn’s PRR went into meltdown.
‘Sorry, lads,’ Finn said. ‘Can’t say too much. Ongoing mission . . .’
‘Is she hot?’
‘Rocket-propelled, mate. So hot she’s on fire.’
‘In your dreams, Finny.’ Jamie shook his head.
‘You were right about one thing, Jamie. She’s no grenade. She’s heavy fucking artillery.’
‘Lance Corporal Finn,’ Dave snapped, ‘if you don’t can this crap and start looking pretty fucking sharp you’re going to experience some heavy fucking artillery from me.’
PRR went silent.
Chapter Seven
DAVE’S HEAD FELT LIKE A WAR ZONE. HE KNEW HE’D FAILED TO follow his own instructions and drink enough water today. He’d spent the morning shovelling admin shit and drawing up rotas. By lunchtime the names and numbers looked like he was squinting at them through a heat haze, the ops room was an oven and he was dripping with sweat just leaning against the wall under a large piece of paper on which someone had written:
Living The Dream???
And now here was Finn boasting about having sex with one of the civilians. However bad your headache, Billy Finn was guaranteed to make it worse.
Dave had to stay alert.
The Helmand River snaked through the centre of the Green Zone like an artery. They drove past orchards crisscrossed by irrigation ditches, collections of houses that were almost villages, lonely compounds with goats outside them, small towns walled like fortresses, fields, woodland, high crops, jungle.
The two women interpreters had wrung information out of the detainees about a Taliban stronghold. The detainees couldn’t or wouldn’t pinpoint the compound, but they’d said enough to confirm the outgoing Officer Commanding’s suspicions.
So now the convoy was putting his theory to the test. Dave wasn’t pleased that they’d been sent with less than a full platoon. He’d told CSM Kila he didn’t feel at all happy about crossing this part of the Green Zone with so few men. Kila had agreed but Major Willingham had refused to revise his plans.
‘Don’t get out,’ Kila said. ‘You’ve not got the manpower. Whatever happens, just keep going.’
‘Why can’t we take more men and do a proper foot patrol?’
‘Too busy guarding the FOB and protecting Topaz fucking Zero
The lad handed Finn the tray.
‘Thank you!’ said Finn, balancing it expertly on the tips of his fingers. ‘Miss Emily, here I come . . .’
Mal and Angus leaped up to join him.
‘Oh no you don’t,’ Finn said.
Mal’s expression was deadly serious. ‘We’ll need to form a cordon.’
‘I’m the second i/c of your section and you’re staying here. That’s an order, McCall.’ Finn swept out, tray held aloft.
The boss came into the cookhouse in time to see Finn waltzing away with the tray. Jamie noticed him smile rapidly at the dark-skinned woman from Intelligence, who was sitting alone. The woman did not smile back.
‘Where’s Finn going with that tray?’ Weeks asked as he sat down.
Jamie grinned. ‘Undercover.’
The boss looked concerned.
‘I hope he’s not going to make a nuisance of himself.’
Finn still had not reappeared when the others went back to their base duties.
‘We’re out on patrol at 1500 hours,’ Sol said. ‘And there’s going to be big trouble if Finny’s not back.’
‘He’s probably just helping Emily sync her iPod,’ Jamie said. But neither of them was now so sure that Emily the sex grenade was just a joke.
Finn did reappear by the vehicles at precisely 1445, adjusting his clothes and grinning broadly. He winked at Angus and some of the other lads.
‘Whoops, I seem to have forgotten something!’ He bent ostentatiously to tie his bootlaces.
Sol put his hands on his hips.
Finn straightened, beaming and stretching lazily. ‘She just wouldn’t let me go! Fuck me, I could use a cigarette . . .’
‘Shut up and get into the wagon, you lazy bastard,’ Dave said.
Once the convoy was under way, Finn’s PRR went into meltdown.
‘Sorry, lads,’ Finn said. ‘Can’t say too much. Ongoing mission . . .’
‘Is she hot?’
‘Rocket-propelled, mate. So hot she’s on fire.’
‘In your dreams, Finny.’ Jamie shook his head.
‘You were right about one thing, Jamie. She’s no grenade. She’s heavy fucking artillery.’
‘Lance Corporal Finn,’ Dave snapped, ‘if you don’t can this crap and start looking pretty fucking sharp you’re going to experience some heavy fucking artillery from me.’
PRR went silent.
Chapter Seven
DAVE’S HEAD FELT LIKE A WAR ZONE. HE KNEW HE’D FAILED TO follow his own instructions and drink enough water today. He’d spent the morning shovelling admin shit and drawing up rotas. By lunchtime the names and numbers looked like he was squinting at them through a heat haze, the ops room was an oven and he was dripping with sweat just leaning against the wall under a large piece of paper on which someone had written:
Living The Dream???
And now here was Finn boasting about having sex with one of the civilians. However bad your headache, Billy Finn was guaranteed to make it worse.
Dave had to stay alert.
The Helmand River snaked through the centre of the Green Zone like an artery. They drove past orchards crisscrossed by irrigation ditches, collections of houses that were almost villages, lonely compounds with goats outside them, small towns walled like fortresses, fields, woodland, high crops, jungle.
The two women interpreters had wrung information out of the detainees about a Taliban stronghold. The detainees couldn’t or wouldn’t pinpoint the compound, but they’d said enough to confirm the outgoing Officer Commanding’s suspicions.
So now the convoy was putting his theory to the test. Dave wasn’t pleased that they’d been sent with less than a full platoon. He’d told CSM Kila he didn’t feel at all happy about crossing this part of the Green Zone with so few men. Kila had agreed but Major Willingham had refused to revise his plans.
‘Don’t get out,’ Kila said. ‘You’ve not got the manpower. Whatever happens, just keep going.’
‘Why can’t we take more men and do a proper foot patrol?’
‘Too busy guarding the FOB and protecting Topaz fucking Zero
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