Xian was now feeding off General Stephens’ anger. ‘Cease with these puny guerrilla attacks on our facilities and we will have no need to retaliate, General. You have the power to stop it immediately.’
‘I want you out of the country, Xian — you and all your cronies. China has crossed a line that the Australian people will not tolerate.’
This threat seemed to sober Xian. ‘General, please. It is imperative that we maintain diplomatic communications. If I am not here I fear that our leaders in China may not be so amenable,’ Xian said in a pleading tone. ‘I have had to persuade them many times to minimise their military action against Australia.’
‘I, and the Australian people, have now seen how you “minimise” military action, Xian. Get out. Now.’ With that, Stephens cut the connection. He looked up at Fletcher in disbelief.
‘My god, Fletch. What have I done?’
‘You’ve done the right thing, Marty. I think we have crossed a line — a line that we needed to cross if we are to get the Chinese off our land.’ Fletcher’s tone was calm and firm.
‘Make sure Xian and all his staff are on a plane tonight, Fletch. I want to make sure the Chinese get the message that we’re no longer playing by their rules.’
‘Of course, Marty. I’ll see to it myself,’ replied Fletcher, turning to walk out.
Alone in his office, the light from his screen, showing graphic image after graphic image of civilian suffering, flickered across Stephens’ face.
The day after the mission, the squad rested, sleeping for most of the day. It was now dark at base camp. Finn had just finished preparing the evening’s meal of chicken, pasta and vegetables. They took turns to prepare the meals. It was a ridiculously easy chore. The SFR, or squad field ration, was a ready-made, long-life meal for nine. The simple, rectangular box contained everything needed for a meal — just rip the tab off at the bottom and a chemical reaction immediately heated it up. Ten minutes later, open the top and the piping-hot meal was ready to be served. It actually tasted good, too. The US army had spent millions on the technology, as they recognised how important a good hot meal was for morale when out in the field. The only trouble was it had very low nutritional value, due to the long-life nature of the contents. So, to supplement their diet, they all had to take ‘nutrient-rich paste’ — or NuRiP, as they called it. Technically, they could live off NuRiP and water alone for months, but no one wanted to test that theory.
Finn couldn’t sleep that night. He kept running through the mission in his head, analysing everything he’d done and seen. He tried to recount everything, every detail, but his mind wasn’t being so forthcoming. Flashes came to him, recollections of smells, light, movement, blood and, most of all, the sense of crippling fear. He remembered watching as the others stood and ran forward as he lay on his stomach. He remembered finally getting up and running forward. It was like his legs were made of hardwood, they were so slow and clumsy. He remembered shooting at people, shapes, shadows and muzzle flashes. He remembered Higgins and the way he put his boot on the dying soldier’s chest and shot him in the head. But one image was more vivid than the others. One image kept replaying in his mind over and over. He couldn’t get it out of his head, and he didn’t think a Nightcap would be the healthiest way to sort out how he was feeling.
He stepped outside into the cool night air and was surprised to find Higgins out there, sitting on a rock and staring out into the distance.
Finn approached him hesitantly. ‘Sir…?’
‘Hunt, what are you doing up at this hour?’ Higgins said, turning to Finn. Finn was worried he’d get a bollocking from the sergeant for interrupting him, but it seemed like he didn’t mind. He seemed more mellow than usual.
Finn decided to try to get what he was thinking about off his chest. ‘Sir, how do you feel about… killing people?’ he asked, cringing at how idiotic the question sounded before it was even fully out of his mouth. Hoping to save a bit of face, he rushed on. ‘I mean, you’ve obviously been through a lot, seen a lot. I can’t even imagine how many kills you’ve had.’
The silence continued so absolutely that Finn momentarily questioned if he’d spoken at all. But then Higgins sharply took in a breath, and began to speak.
‘You strike me as the kind of guy who’s used to being successful, Hunt,’ he said. It was such a non sequitur that Finn jerked his head around involuntarily to stare at Higgins. He could only see Higgins’ profile in the moonlight — his voice sounded almost disembodied. The voice continued, ‘Killing a certain number of people is not a great way to define success for yourself. Having a certain number of kills under your belt is not all it’s cracked up to be.’ There was a long pause. Finally, Higgins turned his head, staring directly at Finn. His eyes glinted in the moonlight. ‘I don’t have any regrets. I don’t look backwards, and I don’t know any different. But I wouldn’t recommend this life to someone who had other options.’
Another long pause rang out in the silence. Finally Higgins nodded once, sharply, and got up from the rock and went back into the cave.
Finn stood out there in the darkness for a long time. Finally, he decided to email Chris.
From: Finn.Hunt@austinf.gov.au
To: chris08@me.com
SUBJECT: You’re the knob
AUTHORISATION: CENSORSHIP PENDING
Hey mate,
Thanks for the note and I’m sorry about what happened at the Sheaf. And, yes, I know I owe you fifty but you’ll have to wait. Actually, it’ll be a miracle if I ever get to pay you back… the way things are going here. I was in a proper firefight the other day. It was crazy and, to be honest, I was scared shitless. As soon as the shots started firing everything around me went into high speed but I was still moving and thinking in slow motion. It’s the strangest thing.
I did get a kill though. Probably more than one, but I only remember one. It was crazy, mate. I can still see this guy’s face. He was running away from me and as he turned to see me I saw his eyes. I lined him up and shot him in the back, landed a couple of rounds in him. He went down real quick in a spray of blood. He twitched for a bit and I just stood there staring. Can’t believe I wasn’t shot myself. Anyway, it was fucking crazy and I’m glad it’s over now.
I feel a bit bad about killing. But I mostly feel bad about not doing more. Like I let the others down. They were awesome mate. You should have seen them, they moved like animals hunting, especially our Sarge, he’s a real warrior. Next mission I’m going to be more switched on, more like him. I really feel like I let them down, though they all reckon I did well for my first mission.
Well mate, I can’t wait to get back and go for a steak and a beer at Woolloomooloo (and give you your fifty back)! We’ve been out here for ages now and it’s really starting to get to me. The heat, the dust and the constant worry about being attacked. It’s so mad, you’re either bored senseless or completely crapping yourself. There’s nothing really in between. Anyway, enough of my babbling…
Take it easy,
Finn
Chapter 13
The squad had been in the cave for nearly two months now, having completed six gruelling missions and losing McCaw to enemy fire in the process. They were tired, frayed and despondent. Every day, the conversation returned again and again to the futility of their attacks. They saw time and again just how efficiently the Chinese forces could rebuild any damage they might inflict.
‘Gather round men, we have new orders,’ Higgins called.
The men gathered, standing and crouching in a circle outside the cave in the morning sunlight, the air still, cool and crisp.