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Authors: J Murison,Jeannie Michaud

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BOOK: ACV's 1 Operation Black Gold
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‘Yes sir,’ he gasped.

‘Oh goody, however we are a medical unit,’ I dragged him over to a very angry Davie Whitton.  ‘Do you see this man here?’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Well he’s an officer too, but he’s a lot more than that, he’s also a surgeon.  One of the country’s finest and what this unit’s all about.  It’s the job of the rest of us to protect this man with our lives if necessary.  His hands are the tools of his trade.  Without them, he is useless to his patients, to himself and to us.  You just risked bruising them or worse.  That is unacceptable, do you understand?’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Good from now on that will be a consideration that is foremost on your mind during training’.

‘Yes sir.’

 

I let him go and Davie guided him away, sat him down, and talked to him in a Doctorly fashion.  It wasn’t long though before he left his patient and had a go at me.  ‘What are you playing at Jim?’

‘How d’ye mean.’

‘You could have killed him, kicking him like that.’

‘When a man’s that angry Davie, his balls retract into his body, you ken that.’

‘Some don’t Jim, what’s wrong with you.  You once had to be battered half to death before you’d even turn a hair.’

‘Aye well there’s a lot ó bitter years between then and now.’

‘Well relax will ye, chill out for fuck’s sake, your home now.’

The remark slammed home and my psyche reeled from the blow.  As I took a deep breath to clear my head I felt my world tilt back onto an even keel, the chip of my own making began to slip away.  I found myself nodding.  ‘I’m sorry Davie,’ I was shame faced and he relaxed, seeing my regret.

 

We went over to where the Sergeant was sharing a joke with the rest of them.  It was a good sign.  ‘How are you feeling?’

‘A lot better sir, are you going to charge me?’

‘For kicking you in the nuts, that’s a new one.’

‘I swung the first punch.’

‘You were supposed to.’

He shook his head.  ‘There’s very few ever tried that before.  You’ve a lot of balls.’

‘I bet there no as big as yours the now though.’  He laughed along with the rest of us.  I stuck my hand out and he accepted it warmly.  I introduced him around.  ‘If you’ve any problems with your manny, give me a shout.’

‘He’s no my manny, I’ve to take my orders directly from you.’

‘That’s even better.  So you were in the SAS?’

‘I’m sorry but I’m not at liberty to discuss that.’

‘Fair enough, but I’ll need your name rank and number.’

‘OK sir I’ll write it down for you.’

‘Jim.’

‘Kenny.’

‘Fit happened to your face,’ asked Abie, ever the sensitive one.

‘Car crash,’ he answered unperturbed.

I sensed he was lying.  ‘Do you know where the old camp was?’

‘Yes I do.’

‘We’re based up there.’

‘The old officers mess?’

‘That’s it.’

‘I thought they’d knocked it all down.’

‘We just managed to save it.  Could you manage to make your way up there tonight?  We really need to get a training programme up and running ASAP.  That’s if you want the job?’

‘I think I’ll hang about for a while.’

‘Half six do?’

‘Perfect.’

 

‘Fit are ye doing Murison?’  Buff plunked a bottle of Bud beside me.

‘Just writing a program for General Pearson.  Well two, one to reset their consoles and another to fuck them up big time.’

He grinned.  ‘How did dinner go?’

‘Fine, he gave me a new watch, look.’

‘Fit’s á the fancy lights for?’

‘It picks up signals from orbiting satellites’

He nodded, ‘So ye can avoid them?’

‘That’s the one.  Different colours for different satellites, blues are friendly.’

‘Figures.’

‘Works off the electricity on your skin.  Charges a wee battery that will work for a year after ye take it off.’

‘Well smart, so fit wiz he saying?’

I paused for a moment.  ‘He wanted to ken about Albania.’

‘Christ, can they not just leave it alone!’

‘It gets worse.’

‘How?’

I let out a deep breath.  ‘He somehow found out we were meeting we the manny D’Ord.  He planted a micro bug on his briefcase.’

‘You’re fucking joking!’

‘No, he taped the hale lot.’

‘For fuck sake, fits he going to do about it?’

‘Nothing or so he says.’

‘D’ye trust him?’

‘Don’t know, I suppose we’ve no choice at the moment.’

‘Why’d he do it?’

I shrugged.  ‘He was over there in charge of intelligence.  Says it was a mystery he’d been dying to solve for years.  Said he couldn’t help himself.’

‘Bastard!’  Buff growled.

‘Maybe no.’ I protested.

‘How?’

‘It turns out he warned the manny D’Ord first.’

‘Whit afore he went to Brigade?’

‘Aye.’

‘So that’s how the bastard got to us first.’  I nodded.  ‘Did ye find out fit happened to all our gear?’

‘I did ask, but he disná ken for sure.  Word was, big Ivan took it round the back we a five gallon drum and a jerry can ó petrol.’

‘So when the spooks from Brigade came round and stripped us for forensics we were spotless?’

‘That’s the one.’

‘So how did they make up the deficiencies?  It must have been obvious, and we never paid a penny ó it.’

I couldn’t stop myself grinning.  ‘It seems a few of the officers and senior NCOs went deficient a few items of kit a piece.’

He laughed.  ‘So the bastards were á up to their ears in it.’

‘Looks like it.’

‘Your right we do owe him.’

‘Well there had to be more going on than we knew.’

He shook his head in wonder.  ‘All because they thought we might have done it, so fit about this Kenny Baron?’  I handed him a print out and he picked through it.  ‘This is some boy.’

‘Isn’t he just!’

 

We sat for another ten minutes sipping beer at ease in our own fashion until Kenny arrived.  Buff excused himself.

‘Please sit down.’

His military record was exemplary apart from a couple of minor offenses when he was young, which all young soldiers are prone to when inexperienced.  He’d received his scarring on active service and won a military medal in the process.  Again, I asked him about his activities and again he refused to comment so I showed him the print out of his files.

‘How did you get these?’

‘Hang around long enough and you’ll find out, keep them.’

 

He didn’t seem very amused, so I started to brief him on our task and what I wanted from him.  He seemed doubtful at first and started firing questions at me thick and fast, but as the answers came, I could see the excitement build inside him.  A scratching at the door interrupted us.  I let boy in and he sat for a while and studied Kenny, eventually he decided to investigate the big scar for himself with a gentle paw.  It was almost a magical moment and when he settled down on his lap for a pet he’d won himself an unrelenting ally.

‘Why did they RTU, you?’  I already knew the answer but decided he needed to talk about it.

‘I split up with my wife.’

‘I never realised you could be returned to unit for that.’

‘A few years ago some idiot committed suicide with a few pounds of PE.  Unfortunately, he took a few with him.  Because of that, anyone who separates from their wife is sent back to their parent unit until after he’s divorced.  I’ll be divorced next month; from there it will be six months before I can reapply.’

‘So what happened?’

 

He was a little hesitant at first but soon the story came pouring out.  It was the normal one; wife gets sick of waiting at home and fucks off with steady plumber type.  Of course, the facial disfigurement hadn’t helped any.

‘Any kids?’  I asked finally.

‘No.’

‘Lucky, eh?’

‘So people keep telling me.’

‘Trust them, it’s true.’ 

I took him through for a beer to find Sam had returned with more than the cat, she’d taken Mr. D’Ord and Mr. Pearson with her.  I dived back through to the office and retrieved the computer discs for him.  Mr. D’Ord had come to see how we were settling in.  They were all drinking buds.

 

‘It’s been many years since I’ve had beer straight from the bottle,’ stated AP, ‘I’d forgotten how…refreshing it is.’

I told Mr. D’Ord how we were getting on.  Both men were impressed with the progress we were making.  I introduced Kenny and outlined the role I wanted him to do, as full time instructor and SAS co-coordinator.  Surprised as he was at the men casually sitting drinking beer in our living area, they soon had him at ease discussing the current situation.

 

I was soon distracted by a ‘What’s this Jim?’  Request.  Nommy had decided to explore the world of PlayStation.  It was packaged with six magazines and the dummy rounds to fill them.  I was over like a shot, this was the latest gear and well out of my price range, but I’d slavered over it in the magazines often enough.  Nommy had definitely got the best.

I soon had it plugged in to the big screen and the room filled with the sounds of an Asian jungle as we went on patrol with the US Marines fighting the Viet Cong.  Everyone wanted a shot and expended rounds were flying everywhere, much to Boy’s delight, which was when Davie Whitton first clapped eyes on him.  He had been too busy working his charms on Sam, winning too by the look of it, right up until he tried kicking him out the door mistaking him for a stray.  Before he could blink, he found himself facing down a very angry Sam, Kenny and Boy.  I’m not sure which was the more formidable.

‘We can’t keep a cat here,’ he protested to me.

‘That’s exactly what I said,’ I agreed, trying to sound earnest.  Boy tried to extract his revenge but I caught him and warned him off.  In his agitation, he settled for an easier target and chased Abie around the room for a few minutes, much to everyone’s delight.  His anger spent, he went back to catching ejected rounds.

‘Well,’ said Davie in conclusion, ‘anything that can shut that cunt up for five minutes can’t be that bad.’  So an uneasy truce was called, but he’d burned his bridges with Sam, though it didn’t stop him trying

 

 

CHAPTER 30

 

‘I’m fucked Jim!’

I handed the old-fashioned stretcher over the counter to Fritz before answering.  ‘Me n´ a’ Buff.’

‘We really have to speak about this.’

The office was unusually empty, so we locked ourselves in there.  I made us both a cuppa and we collapsed into the soft chairs.

Buff took a sip of his tea and sighed, ‘we need a rest min even you.’

I looked around the cluttered office.  It was full of print outs, files and computer discs.  What Buff said was true, for three weeks we’d been going flat out.  Physically we had changed drastically.  I was no longer the wee fat taxi driver.  Muscle was now beginning to layer on my broad frame, but every bone muscle and ligament in my body screamed.  It was too much too soon.

Kenny had us up at four every morning, and was able to turn even the simplest task into a sweating gruelling exercise.  Our days were filled with physical exercise, our nights with mental.  Davie was trying to cram years’ worth of medical knowledge into our heads.  Our metabolisms were out of control and needed time to settle.  I didn’t need much persuading.

‘OK let’s go.’ 

 

Both Davies were waiting for us and talking to Fritz across the counter, they looked rough.  ‘Where are the rest of them?’

Non-committal shrugs.  ‘Next door,’ offered Fritz.

‘Come on then I need to talk to everyone.’  They all were apart from Abie who was flat on his back half in the main door sleeping with Boy sitting on his chest slapping him in the face with a paw trying to waken up his favourite toy.  I fetched a glass of water and poured it over his face.  ‘I need you awake for five minutes Abie.’

‘OK, I’m coming.’

They sat round bone weary and exhausted.  ‘OK gentlemen, I’ll make this short and sweet, get your dinner then fuck off, I don’t want to see anybody until Monday.’  I walked over to my chair, fired up the telly and PlayStation, and then took my boots off to the opening titles.  They slowly came back to life as excitement began to build.

 

‘Oh fucking great,’ squealed Abie.

‘Hiss,’ Boy fired back.  Abie looked down in surprise to find he was mysteriously holding the cat and was now dripping ice-cold water onto his turned up face.

‘Aw fuck!’  Boy got his best chase of the week.

 

‘What’s happening?’ asked the newly commissioned Kenny as he sat down on the end of my bed.  The place was quiet, only Davie McAlister and Fritz had stayed.  Fritz was pottering about in his stores while Davie was having a nap.  I just grunted I was sitting behind a C4 transporter with little fuel left, no missiles and just my guns for company.  Sweating with effort, I slammed my airbrakes full on, desperately trying to cut speed and bring my guns on line.  I judged the deflection and fired a long burst into the starboard engine.  It exploded taking the wingtip with it.  She flipped over, I half rolled and followed her down but it was unnecessary, it was too low to recover and slammed into the ground with an impressive explosion.

Mission accomplished, save game, I clicked yes and laid the pad down.  Boy yowled a greeting as Sam came in.  ‘I’ve sent them home for the weekend.’

‘That was probably a good idea.  What about you?’

I thought about what Davie had said a few weeks ago.  ‘Nah, I’m quite happy where I am.’

‘In that case I’d better give you this,’ interrupted Sam.  She handed over an envelope.

‘What is it?’

‘An invitation to a dinner party.’

‘A what!’

‘General Pearson’s holding a dinner party tonight and wondered if you’d like to attend.’

I tossed the half-opened envelope and picked up the joy pad again.  ‘If you see him tell him I’ve been unavoidably detained.  She reached over and switched off the telly.  ‘What are y’ dein Sam?’  I reached over and switched it back on again.  ‘I’m trying to relax here.’

‘You call that relaxing?’

‘Yes I do actually.’

‘There’s no need to raise your voice at me,’ she huffed.

‘Ow!’  Boy dug his claws into my lap.  ‘Dinna look at me like that,’ I warned him.

‘It would be a good career move,’ she hinted.

‘Well wasn’t that the wrong thing to say.’  I snorted.

‘Shit!’

‘You’re picking up bad habits Samantha.’

‘I’m in bad company,’ she fired back.  I didn’t bother answering; I was too busy reading the new mission brief.  She reached over and switched the telly off again.

‘Will you fucking quit it?’

‘No, it’ll do you good to get out.’

‘No it won’t.  What I need is twenty hours sleep, not gallivanting at parties all night.’

‘You’ll hardly be gallivanting at one of Mr. Pearson’s parties.’

‘Then I’ll probably fall asleep with boredom over the crepes.’

‘You’ll be fine by then.’

‘Look I’m no going.’

‘Why not?’

‘Hundreds of reasons.’

‘Name five.’

‘Well for a start an old pair of jeans and a tee shirt doesn’t quite go down well at these social functions.  Then there’s the fact I have nothing in common with these people.  I don’t know anybody.  I’ll probably have to drink the pish they dish out, plus I don’t actually like socialising or people.  Add to that, I’m not interested and I don’t want to.  I’m sure you can find five perfectly good reasons in their somewhere.  All I want to do is sit here in front of my telly and chill out OK.’  I switched it back on.

‘I’ll be there,’ she moped.

‘Fine, enjoy yourself.’  ‘Brake, brake, brake,’ the screen screamed at me.  I’d just pulled up into a high-speed turn when another hand reached down and switched it off.  ‘Whit the fuck now!’

 

Davies’s red-rimmed eyes stared down at me.  ‘If I hear that once more, I’m going to scream.’

‘It wasn’t bothering you a half hour ago.’

‘Well it’s bothering me now.’

‘I’ll change the disc then.’

‘No you won’t, you’ll get changed and go out and spend some ó they millions ye made off that company.  Get yourself a new wardrobe; you’ve nothing left that fits.’

‘I bought a new motor, and fit’s the point ó buying new clothes.  They probably won’t fit me in a fortnight.’

He took on his bouncer’s stance, I raised an eyebrow in alarm, this wasn’t looking good.  ‘You know I am a trained social worker and have a good grounding in psychology?’

‘Aye so.’

‘The behaviour you’re exhibiting is not good for your health.’

‘How do you mean?’  I was taken aback.

‘Well you showing symptoms.’

‘Symptoms ó fit?’

‘This type of anti-social behaviour is often the first signs of a physiological collapse maybe even schizophrenia.’

‘Bollocks, I’ve always been an anti-social bastard.’

‘Which points to some kind of psychological trauma when you were younger.  Have you ever had any near death experiences?’

‘Oh piss off.’  I grabbed a towel from my locker.  ‘I’m going for a shower, then I’m oot ó here.’

 

They watched him disappear in to the ablutions.  ‘Is he really going off his head?’ asked Kenny.

‘God no, you won’t find anybody saner.’

‘You’re confusing me.’

‘Me too,’ piped up Samantha.

Davie shrugged.  ‘He needs to get away from here for a while and he knows it.  Left to his own devices he’ll plunk himself in front of that terminal through there and work.’

‘I still don’t understand whit a’ that was about.’  Kenny scratched his shorn head.

‘Me neither.’  Sam agreed.

‘He’s just a little eccentric; you have to learn how to deal with him.’

‘I don’t think I’ll ever learn,’ Sam picked up the envelope.  ‘I made a right mess of this.’

‘Not really, if he didn’t like the idea he would have just said no.  If you’d persisted he would have ripped it up, not slung it somewhere he can still reach it.’

‘So you think he’ll go?’

‘Not a chance.’

‘Why not?’

‘He’ll need an excuse.’

‘But he’s been invited.’

‘Not good enough.’

Kenny stood.  ‘I’m getting a headache; tell him I’ll see him on Monday.’

‘See you Monday,’ Davie responded.  Samantha shook her head to try and clear the thinking process.  He took sympathy on her.  ‘It’s fairly simple; he thinks the man is only being polite.  He canna understand that someone might actually want him there, so if he really wants to go, he’ll need to find an excuse before he imposes himself on unwitting innocents.’

Sam picked up the cat for comfort, much to his delight.  She looked hurt and confused.  He watched her silently for a few moments contemplating the woman in front of him.  Did she care enough, he decided to try and find out.  ‘Do you like him Sam?’

With the wisdom born of woman, she knew exactly what he was talking about.  Her heart missed a beat.  Would this strong quiet man be the one to help?  She knew instinctively, if she said one wrong word, the hand of friendship would be withdrawn forever.  ‘Yes I do, very much.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know.  It’s something deep, an instinct, something I can’t control.’

‘More than just feelings of friendship.’

She put down the cat shaking her head and without thinking started tidying up round his bed space, putting discs back into their proper boxes and slotting them back into the rack at the side.  ‘We’re hardly friends.  When we first met he was quite harsh but friendly enough at times, but now he is barely civil, what am I doing wrong.’  She sat down and the cat jumped onto her lap.

‘You’re not doing anything wrong, it’s him.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Well we think he’s falling in love with you.’

‘I find that hard to believe.’

‘Believe it.’

‘I’m sorry, I don’t think I can, not after the way he’s been treating me.’

‘That’s why we think he’s been treating you the way he has, you see he happens to be a very sensitive man, probably too sensitive.’  Samantha sat quietly clutching the cat too hard as the big man tried to squeeze his thoughts into some cohesive form.  ‘He’s different from your mainstream type of man and because of that people have a tendency to ridicule him, women especially and every time a relationship fails he blames himself.  Because of that, he now keeps his relationships with women on a very shallow level physically normally, anything more he perceives as a threat and he fights it.  Therein he fights himself, which is something he’s not prepared to put up with for long.  So if he’s attracted to you and he’s perceived that your attracted to him he’ll turn on you.’

‘To what end?’

‘Well if he can make you hate him, he’s won.  He doesn’t have to fight himself anymore because you’ll keep him at arm’s length yourself.’

‘Oh god, yes I see it, so simple but so effective.’

‘That’s it in a nutshell.’

A thought clicked into place.  ‘He once told me he wouldn’t insult me by asking me out.’

‘Aye he thinks you far too good for the likes ó him.’

‘It’s like fighting a dark beast.’

Davie nodded.  ‘Aye and by the way he’s treating you he’s already in hell.’

‘So how do I get round him?’

‘There’s two ways, but first you must be sure you really care.’

The cat was beginning to look vexed, as the hold on him got even tighter.  ‘I do.’

I took a moment then made his decision.  ‘If he starts on at you again distract him about something he’s interested in.  There’s always plenty of scope there, if you’re prepared to be bored to death for hours on end.  There is another way, but I wouldn’t recommend it.  You could raise the knight-errant in him.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘You might find it hard to believe but he’s very old fashioned.  He lives by a set of moral codes that would put the Knights of the Round Table to shame.’

 

She sat forward squeezing the cat who finally managed to break free with an angry swish of his tail.  Her mind raced.  Now she knew he’d go with her, all she had to do was find the courage to tell him the truth.  He noticed the tremor that ran through her body; her eyes swam out of focus for a moment.  When they refocused on his face they shone with a new light and he wondered why that statement more than any other had made such an impact on her.  It made him uneasy.

‘That doesn’t sound like him.’

‘His morals are his own; he doesn’t preach them or expect anyone else to live by them.’

Hope surged through her, tingling her nerve endings, she had a handle on him now, a starting point.  ‘But how do I get him alone?’

‘Are you doing anything this afternoon?’

‘No nothing.’

‘Then leave it to me.’

 

 

 

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