Forever the Colours Read Free

talking to was related to the Bin Liner himself. Tommy smiled at the old man, to try and reassure him, and the old man smiled back.
    â€˜I am asking this wrinkled old fart, lad, where he has hidden those nasty little things that separate your legs from your body.’ He walked over to Tommy and Jacko and put his nose tipto-tip with Tommy’s. The hatred in Adams’s eyes right then confirmed to Tommy that the Sergeant knew he had bumped his wife. ‘Now while me and Dinga sort this out,’ he growled, ‘you and your mate shithouse there, go and sweep the rest of the buildings, savvy? Now, chop chop.’ And with that he turned and walked back to the old man, who was still on his knees, and fetched a hard slap to his leathery cheek.
    Weak as he knew he could sometimes be, Tommy turned, grabbed Jacko’s arm and pulled him through the doorway back into the street. They stood facing each other in the heat and dust, and listened as another slap resounded through the doorway, accompanied by a muffled squeal, which was possibly Dinga laying the boot into the young Afghan.
    Tommy was breathing hard. What he had just witnessed wasn’t nice and he wished he were someplace else. ‘You alright, Jacko? You look pale,’ Tommy said with concern, because Jacko had indeed lost all colour in his face. ‘Jacko, are you alright?’
    Jacko was staring straight into Tommy’s eyes, though not seeming to see him, and his lips were trembling slightly. ‘I can’t leave it like this, Tommy,’ Jacko said. ‘We can’t leave that poor old bastard in there with those fuckers. They’ll kill him.’
    SLAP!
    Jacko shivered.
    â€˜What exactly do you think we can do? Oh, I know! We’ll just walk right in there and ask him to stop, eh? Get a fucking grip, mate, you can’t touch him. We’re losing too many guys out in this shithole. Do you think the brass are gonna worry about one old man and a kid? Just do your job, don’t get killed and go home. Don’t try to be a fucking hero.’
    SLAP!
    â€˜I can’t take this, mate. I’m gonna have him, sorry.’ And with that he turned round to re-enter the building.
    Tommy, seeing his friend was about to pop, jumped in front of him and placed a hand on his chest. ‘Hang on, hang on, stop, wait. Listen, you fucking idiot, we do it our way and we survive.’
    He was shoved to the side as Jacko stormed through the door.
    â€˜Oh, sod it!’ he said, and quickly followed behind.
    As Tommy entered, his friend was nose-to-nose with Dinga, who, with a smirk on his face, had stepped in front of Adams and squared up to Jacko.
    â€˜Wots ya fuc’in problam meet?’ Dinga said to Jacko. ‘If ye fuc’in want sum, am reet ear.’
    Tommy quickly surveyed the scene. The old man was pushing himself up off the floor.
    â€˜So what you two love birds back for then, eh?’ said the Arsehole. ‘Well??? Oh, it’s like that is it, a fuckin’ rescue mission. Well why don’t ya piss off and mind ya fuckin’ business?’ Adams waited for any reaction from the two friends. ‘Nothing to say, no? Didn’t think so.’ As he ended this sentence, he pulled back to strike the old man again, and the man, already bleeding from the nose, was still looking him straight in the eye, smiling. So it was then that Tommy, who wasn’t the one threatening to pop, stepped in.
    Before anyone knew what was happening, Tommy had covered the prayer rug in two strides and placed himself in front of the old man as Adams’s backhand connected with his right temple. He staggered slightly and saw little lights dancing in front of his eyes, but he didn’t go down. After this, it all became rather chaotic. Jacko’s helmeted forehead connected with Dinga’s nose and mouth just as he was about to utter another incomprehensible mouthful, and a second later Tommy’s right boot went