Chapter 4-A Really Wrong Place

The approach road to the entry portal is simply a dusty track with nearby bunkers and guard towers providing over watch. You then descend a hidden ramp into a tunnel, where halfway along is a checkpoint.

The guard on duty today, Marlon, knows our faces and waves us through immediately. When you drive up the opposite ramp, you emerge into bright sunshine and are now inside District 9 itself.

'Place is like fucking paradise, gets better everyday' mutters Paul as a gaggle of aliens scatter at the sight of our vehicle.

He mockingly points his gun out of the window and makes a shooting sound.

In this sector of the district, a sprawling encampment housing a million plus migrants and about the size of small city, there is a ramshackle satellite base for MNU personnel. It is to here that I drive.

Parking up, we find Max Finnegan and Johnny Price already on site.

'Hey boys' says Johnny, a little too chirpy for my liking. Since we work twelve hour shifts I am sure he will be suitably fatigued by the end of the day.

'Sorry we are late' Paul offered 'had a bit of trouble on the way over'

'No problem, besides we are all here now Team 1-A, the best of the best!'

Max Finnegan, with proclamations like that, was slightly weird. In fact I had always reckoned he had a screw loose. The oldest serving member of the unit, perhaps working here had driven him nuts?

'Got lots of lovely aliens to look after too' he added.

Soon we had divided up the portions of the sector we would be looking to patrol.

'As you know things have been getting hairy around the district lately, just today the last shift caught one of them trying to bury a cache of weapons near a known escape point. Luckily for this grid specifically things have quietened down a bit' Johnny proclaimed in his usual droning way.

'That don't mean shit Johnny, could be the calm before an alien storm!' Paul replied.

I had to laugh a little then.

'Is there something funny to you Helicopter Hero-boy?' asked Max.

'Not really, but come on: one guy stashing a few ray guns doesn't mean there will be Armageddon! He was probably hiding it from the Nigerians as those guys try and steal shit like that all the time'

A few moments of silence passed.

'Even so' Max piped up finally 'we can't trust them for shit! And one less bunch of weapons off the scene will make me very happy indeed'

'Well how about the rest of us eh Max?' I said.

'Yeah don't want to be done like Madsen do we...'

Climbing into the Hilux I get another text from Myra.

'THINK I HAD BETTER GET ANOTHER TEST HONEY-JUST 2 B SURE X'

'Who's that your old lady again?' Paul asked.

'Yeah just worrying as usual'

'My girl has got no problem with me working here you know, says it's better and safer than working in Darfur or Iraq'

Before signing up with MNU, Paul had undertaken mercenary work all over Africa and other global hotspots. But nothing beat 'kicking alien asses' for a living (his first sentence when I met him).

As the district was laid out in a grid pattern (i.e. hundreds of shacks crammed together in one block and with bisecting dust tracks marking any borders) it made sense to traverse these pathways on our patrols.

We were generally there to provide security and order for the migrants but other duties could involve rounding up work dodgers, for example, who refused to report for the daily roll call nearby.

'I hear that Mario dude got fired from the meat processing plant because he kept eating all the produce!' Paul joked, referring to a particularly dim witted alien from this block.

'Hope Kanga and his boys turned HIM into mincemeat if you get my drift...' he went on.

Kanga was the local Nigerian warlord who with his demented twin brother reported to the head of the organisation at his main chop shop.

'Yeah alien burgers, a real treat for all of us! No fucking thanks!' I laughed.

'Ha you funny fucker Mike, you had us all thinking you were pro-prawn there for awhile'

'Nah I just don't go in with guns blazing Paul, you have to play this role smartly you know?'

'True what with all this shit around Tanya Simms and all'

'Exactly'