‘Saddam certainly liked his highways, Vinny.’
‘Yeah, Major. Like Hitler liked his autobahns.’ Vinny gazed into the featureless desert as they raced along Highway 2 towards Mosul. He had a thought. ‘Stalin was Saddam’s hero, right?’
‘Right.’
‘So, Major, why didn’t Stalin make a name for himself with highways across the Soviet Bloc?’
‘Yeah… Interesting question, Vinny. Dr Ashe, why didn’t Stalin make a name for himself in road transport?’
Ashe snapped out of the reverie induced by the dull hum of speeding along the well-metalled road. ‘Two reasons immediately spring to mind.’
‘Don’tcha just love this guy? Always something springing to mind! Jeez! You’ve got some fuckin’ spring in there, bud!’
‘I suppose the first requirement for a motorway is a car.’
Richmond stifled a laugh.
Vinny was agog. ‘Boy’s a genius!’
Ashe continued. ‘I just don’t think Hitler and Saddam were intimidated by private car ownership.’
Vinny cracked up.
‘Quiet a second, Vinny!’ Richmond’s face froze. ‘Something’s happened.’ The major tapped the side of his helmet. ‘Come on! Fucking thing!’ The transmission was faulty. ‘It’s… MND North. Blue Force in the vicinity. Call’s gone out for Brigade Combat Teams. I’m getting a coordinate.’ Richmond magnified the scale of his electronic route plan, then hit the Merc’s horn four times. The Humvee in front slowed down.
Zappa switched the CD player off.
Silence… as if the planet’s loudspeakers had been suddenly cut. A violent peace. The desert was full of silence; nothingness.
A US soldier unwrapped the tarpaulin sheets from the mounted guns on the Humvee in front, then unclipped the leather case off the M249 squad automatic weapon. He unhooked an ammo box and started threading the magazine into the firing chamber.
Richmond opened the driver’s door and called up to the driver in front. ‘I’m getting out. Bring your Operation Map with you!’
A soldier from the Humvee behind ran up to the tail area of the Humvee in front and started preparing the larger-calibre M240B machine gun.
‘See that, Toby?’
‘I seem to recall seeing something like that at the roadblock yesterday.’
‘Latest issue. It’s got a range of about 1.6 kilometres.’
‘Accuracy?’
‘About 800 metres pinpoint lethal – with an experienced crew.’
‘Rate of fire?’
‘He’ll get 600 rounds a minute. That’s what Bob Dylan calls “a hard rain”, Dr Toby.’
‘Let’s hope it’s not going to fall. What about the other gun?’
‘That’s an M249, a one-man operated weapon. Good to 600 metres – but the firepower’s more intense.’
‘How much more intense?’
‘750 rounds a minute. So you just relax there.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Before you do, try feeling under your seat… Yeah, that’s it. You got it. Can you feel the clip?’
‘You’ve gotten yourself there an M4 carbine, Dr Toby. Know how to use it?’
‘Did the course, Vinny.’
‘Feel ready?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Major Richmond will explain everything.’
‘May I relax now?’
‘Just keep your seat dry.’
Zappa unclipped his own M4.
‘Vinny?’
‘Toby?’
‘What was all that about Blue Force?’
‘They didn’t tell you that?’
‘I took the economy course.’
‘OK, it’s like this. Blue Force: good. Red Force…’ Vinny shook his head. ‘Red Force: bad.’
‘I see.’
‘See that box on the dash, just below the wheel?’
‘Check.’
‘That’s a Blue Force tracker. Major Richmond has one attached to his epaulette.’
‘Ah… That’s what that was. I suppose it’s replaced the customary parrot.’
‘It’s a global positioning system. It means someone knows where we are. It means we know when the bad guys are close. And it means we can call on the—’
‘Blue Force.’
‘Right. Blue Force – if we need assistance.’
‘What’s the method?’
‘See those buttons there. Nice and finger-shaped. You press all four buttons, three times. Four and three. You got that?’
‘Do I need to know?’
Zappa looked at him seriously. ‘You may need to know, Toby.’
‘Four buttons, three times. Right.’
‘Now, what the good major is doing with the corporal in front there, is checking coordinates for the presence of Blue Force in the vicinity. On the basis that this probably means there’s also something not good going on.’
‘I get the idea, Vinny. We’re in the shit.’
‘If you mean we should prepare for all eventualities, you are correct.’
Ashe sat back in his seat. To the left of him: nothing. Sand, sand and more sand. And to the right? There might as well have been a mirror on the side of the road.
Sweating like a wet peach, Richmond climbed back inside the air-conditioned Merc.
‘It would appear, gentlemen—’
‘Here it comes.’
‘That a British troop transporter, carrying mainly US troops, has gone down some miles west of here. There’s a turn-off to the right in about fifteen kilometres – a turning for Irbil – which right now is a highly sensitive area. That’s where the plane was heading. We’ve been requested to investigate the area where the aircraft lost contact with base.’
‘By ourselves, Major?’
‘No, there’s a Blue Force presence already in the vicinity. Composition unknown.’
‘That’s strange.’
‘Not necessarily. Anyhow, I could get no further details.’
Ashe closed his eyes. This was just the kind of open-ended scenario he’d been dreading. Then again, no one else was jumping for joy either.
‘Just what is the mission here, Major?’
‘Investigate the crash site – if there is a crash site; recover any survivors – if there are any survivors; submit a report on completion of task, and carry on to Mosul, pending further developments.’
‘Like we get to play heroes, right?’
‘We get to be soldiers, Vinny. Or, what is even more likely, nothing happens.’
‘Corporal Pinsker’s leading the way. Sergeant Bolton’s following up behind. What could be nicer?’
The word ‘nicer’ rang in Ashe’s ears. He thought of Melissa, then dismissed the thought.
‘Major, you need two guys on the M240. Toby, are you listening?’
‘What?’
‘Are you listening?’
‘Er… yeah, two guys on the M240.’
‘Right. You need two guys on the M240. We’ve got four guys, plus ourselves and the interpreter. Basic math tells me that if we’re gonna need the M249 as well, one of us should go up ahead.’
‘Do I hear the voice of a volunteer, Vinny?’
‘Me and my big mouth! I must be nuts!’
‘No, Zap. We’re all nuts. But your nuts are bigger than ours, that’s all.’