Going Grey Read Free

out of trouble. Control could keep their toy planes.
    "Step on it, Sam. Can't afford to misplace a Septic." Rob slapped the dashboard. "Too much diplomatic fallout. One Yank equals twenty Brits equals a hundred of you."
    Sam did one of his terrific belly laughs. "Don't tell them that. They want to be loved."
    "What, aid workers or Septics?"
    "You always make me laugh, Robert. I shall miss you."
    Sam pulled over to the side of the road to let a wide-load convoy pass. It was heading south from Gibure, a mix of tankers and trucks with Morrigan logos on their mud-flecked doors. Rob noted the security escort manned by hairy-arsed, unsmiling, sunglassed white blokes in black T-shirts and body armour, and wondered if contractors ever worked together long enough to feel like family in the same way the Corps did.
    And that's my future. Okay. Can do.
    "I'll miss you too, mate," Rob said.
    He watched the convoy shrink and vanish in the wing mirror. This was how governments liked their overseas wars now — local troops to do the heavy lifting, a lot of Western hired help, and a handful of uniformed blokes like him as "advisers." They called it scalable and flexible.   Rob translated that as cheaper and no visible body bags to upset the voters .
    Sam was about to turn off towards Pelayi when HQ came on the radio again.
    " Echo Two Three Bravo, this is Zero — NGO confirms their vehicle's being held on the south side  of the Pelayi river crossing by unidentified locals in three technicals, minimum six crew. No injuries. The US mobile asset's employed by Esselby. The locals want payment for using the road, over. "
    At least the aid party had been able to call in. "Zero, is this a hostage situation, over?"
    " Negative, treat as a bribe, over. "
    Rob ignored that and planned for a rescue anyway. There was looking on the positive side, and then there was being bloody stupid. The crossing on the sat map looked like the kind of spot he'd have picked for an ambush, a choke point overlooked by a hill, with tree cover one side for fire support elements. Sam glanced at it and tutted to himself. He obviously saw it the same way. It was an armed toll bridge by any other name.
    "Roger that, Zero," Rob said. "Difficult location. We could use some support, over."
    " On its way. Two AU patrols about ten minutes behind you. Zero out. "
    Rob checked his pouches for the US dollars and local shillings that he took on patrols for those occasions when cigarettes, a watch, or a throwaway mobile phone weren't enough to placate the locals. He kept the cash with his combat trauma kit. That was the measure of its life-saving abilities.
    "I'm going to pull up there," Sam said, tapping the dashboard screen at a point fifty meters from the crossing. "That looks like trouble."
    "Too right, mate."
    The Pelayi road deteriorated gradually from crumbling tarmac to a broad dirt track. Sam kept checking in with the Humvees a few klicks behind, chattering away in French to the Senegalese unit like Jean Paul Sartre on speed.
    He looked happier for the chat. "They've split up to approach the crossing on both flanks to give us cover."
    "Cracking. Better safe than sorry." Rob counted the dollar bills. This was probably just a last-minute rush to squeeze some income out of foreigners before they abandoned Nazani. "I'm good at sweet-talking the local delinquents. Bung them some cash and we'll be home for tea."
    Rob scanned the slopes to the right, looking for signs of activity in the tree line. There'd probably be more blokes behind cover somewhere. He was looking for three "technicals", then, the makeshift gun trucks that every dodgy armed gang seemed to tool around in. According to the sat map, there was no useful cover near the road if things went pear-shaped. The left side of the road was flat for about fifty meters, a handy spot to lay mines to stop anyone skirting the control point. There was so much ordnance washing around the bazaars these days that he always assumed the