The dull thud on the horizon makes them all look up. There's a pall of greasy black smoke. "Rucksacks" says Cook to no-one in particular. Jameson goes back to working the hand held radio that transmits to all available aircraft in the area. His repetitive calling of their location and call-sign sounds like a Sunday afternoon baseball score being read out by a generic US radio station. Cook finds the voice almost comforting.
"What does that mean?" Soraya is both out of breath and scared
"It means, we've an hour or so if they're on foot, maybe 15 minutes if they're in vehicles. " Cook pauses, squints at the horizon for any tell tale signs.
"Do they ever travel on foot?" Soraya asks
"Not normally, no" he's distracted, his attention is... There, he sees what he's looking for, a cloud of dust. "Fuck, Jameson, get us a ride quick, man"
Mark comes up on their frequency, "Cook, can you see it?"
"Yep, how many?" Cook closes his eyes thinking through his options. Mark radios back.
"At least two trucks, figure 10 in each"
"Right" Cook thinks fast "Mark, lay out the Claymores, Chris as they hit give them the good news with the Minimi, yeah?"
"Right, understood"
Despite the rapid advance in technology; infantry tactics remain resolutely simple. Find the high ground, and make sure you've got bigger and more guns than them. Cook looks about: flat as a pancake and he's out gunned. Looks over to a small village, shakes his head to himself, he'd be risking his own men, and possibly the lives of innocent civilians. It's going to be here, he thinks. Unless Jameson gets lucky.
The emergency beacon crackles into life "Foxtrot two zero, this is Preacher 59, you boys need a lift?"
Jameson grabs the small radio, "Affirm Preacher 59 we are 5, over
"Roger that, foxtrot two zero. We are Blackhawk, 5 no problem, ETA your position 20 minutes, over"
"Roger, we have inbound unfriendly, over"
"Roger Foxtrot two zero, we have fast movers ingress in 5 minutes, over"
Cook looks over to Jameson, shakes his head "No jets, too close to the village"
Jameson's eyebrow rise, "Cook, you're joking right"
Cook shakes his head again, "NO, that's an order" Just in case there might be some confusion.
Before Jameson can reply there's a thud and flash, moments later the rip of concussion as a large charge detonates, Cook can hear the mechanical bursts of the machine gun. Mark and Chris. It's started.
Mark and Chris sprint towards them, rounds are pinging and shrieking over-head, Soraya crouches next the bulk of Jameson, who rises every now and again to fire off another volley of rounds. Each time it makes her jump, and she puts her hands over her ears. She is certain she's going to die. She looks over to Cook who's also firing, covering the other two as they race in, they slide into the hollow scrape they've hidden in. They join in the firing, she's deafened by the Minimi, and hot rounds fall onto her burning holes in her fatigues, she tries to brush them off.
Suddenly they are engulfed in dust and flying debris, as a large dark helicopter lands just a couple of feet away, the door gunner firing just over their heads. Jameson shrieks at her, but she cannot hear, she knows what he wants though and runs towards the helicopter. The others follow. As she leaps to the deck and rolls over, she sees a man in a dirty turban take aim at Jameson, and she reacts instinctively, raises the pistol and fires. The man crumples to the dirt; Cook takes one look, nods and joins her on the floor of the helicopter. The pitch increases and the helicopter takes off, slowly at first then increasing in speed across the ground. Cooks crawls over to her and starts to feel all over her, her legs, her stomach, he roughly handles her breasts, everywhere, she's startled until she realises he's looking for wounds. She has none, she wants to shout. Starts to laugh instead. Cook is at first surprised, and then starts to join in, it's infectious. Soon the door gunner of Preacher 59 thinks his passengers have gone mad, as they all laugh hysterically at each other.
OooooO
Emily luxuriates under the strong hot shower. Her own shower back at the shared flat she lives in, is at best temperamental, and at worst simply refuses to work. She looks around at Panda's selection of soapy gels and shampoos, all too flowery for her tastes, she chooses the least offensive, and gets to work. It's the simple things in life that give the most pleasure, she thinks. Closes her eyes as the shampoo rinses off her hair and face and rubs her hand across her face. She takes a breath and wonders aloud to herself what the fuck is wrong with her that makes her want to try to wind Naomi up all the fucking time. "Just fucking leave it, let it fucking go" She stands still, face upturned into the water until it starts to flow cooler, and she turns off the taps with a mixture of regret and guilt. She steps out, dries herself quickly, wraps herself into a towel, picks up her stuff, and walks out of the bathroom. Pauses at the door of the bedroom she thinks she saw Naomi in earlier puts down her leathers and knocks gently on the closed door, pushes it open. The room is empty. She sees Naomi's cigarettes, smells the familiar aroma: Marlboros, and her Zippo, smiles, picks it up and strikes it, watches the flame for a moment, and shuts it. Puts it back on the bedside table. She walks around the bed and sees Naomi's opened case, smiles again to herself as she recognises a tee shirt that she bought Naomi years ago. She holds it up, it's black with chemical symbol cross on it in orange, underneath is written the word 'IRRITANT'. She smiles at the memory of it, and without thinking brings it to her face, and breathes in.
"Black doesn't suit you"
Emily spins around, sees Naomi standing at the door, it's her turn to stumble with her words as she drops the tee shirt hurriedly "I was just...I didn't mean to...Fuck, Sorry." She hangs her head. She looks up, Naomi continues to look at her, and Emily takes in a breath.
"I'm sorry, earlier, downstairs, I didn't mean..." She hesitates, then "Can we start again? For Panda's Sakes, for the sake of this weekend, just try not to argue?"
Naomi nods mutely and almost whispers, "Yeah, that would be...good"
They stand for a moment, neither speaks, Emily starts to get cold, walks to the door, and Naomi moves aside, "I should get dressed" she leaves Naomi standing in the doorway.
"Yes, dressed is much safer" Naomi says aloud to herself. Wonders when Emily started using flowery smelling shampoos.
OooooO
They gather in the kitchen in drips and drabs, Emily first brushing out wet hair, Naomi next, stands as far away as he she can, she changed out of her work clothes, Cook joins them, out of uniform in a creased shirt and trousers Naomi thinks he's even thinner than she thought, he seems preoccupied. They stand making small talk, Katie joins them, there's a tension in the air that none of them can identify, none seem comfortable, they fidget, get in each other's way in the small kitchen. Finally Effy comes in, she's transformed, looks like she's ready for a night on the town, suddenly it dawns on all of them, the source of their discomfort, Panda Bounces in behind, as Effy looks at them all, and says
"Let's go and get fucking wasted then"
They nod and smile, that's it, they need to be pissed, and fucked up...
