‘OK. I got a glimpse of a place from the top of that last hill. Should be around here somewhere.’ Revell scanned the seemingly never-ending vista of conifers to either side. ‘We’ll pull in and have a look at the trouble.’
‘We might be lucky if we can do that.’ Easing back on the speed, Burke watched the needle inexorably rising into the red. ‘I’ve had a look inside a few Commie engine compartments. They weren’t ever designed with maintenance in mind. I thought the early Chieftains were pigs to work on until I saw the guts of a T72. This bugger has two engines, and that ain’t going to make it no easier.’
They were almost past the small petrol station before they saw it, and Burke had to slam on the brakes and turn tightly to pull on to its forecourt. The doors to an advertisement-plastered corrugated iron workshop were open, and Burke drove straight in, parking the APC over an inspection pit.
‘Where are you off to?’
Revel had spotted Dooley’s unsuccessful attempt to make a hurried and quiet exit, something that his bulk and nature made nearly impossible.
‘Thought I’d check the place over, Major, make sure there were no Ruskies around.’
‘More likely to see if there was anything worth pocketing.’ Enjoying the welcome sensation of stretching, after the long hours of confinement in the uncomfortable command seat, Revell gazed about the shed. From the look of the place it appeared unlikely that Dooley could find anything of value, even a large compartmented rack that must previously have held thousands of nuts, bolts and washers had been emptied, and not a single tool or grease gun was left on any of the illegibly labelled racks on the walls. ‘You want to play jackdaw, then check those two tool boxes on the roof of this wagon. If they’re as lavishly equipped as the rest of it, we should be able to do anything short of a rebore or engine change.’
Muttering under his breath, Dooley hauled himself on top of the APC. The boxes the officer had mentioned were non-standard additions, welded to the roof beside the escape hatch just forward of the engine compartment. Fabricated from mild steel sheet, they had suffered considerable damage.
One was already hanging open, its lid all but ripped away and the sides crushed to half their proper height. A few spanners and wrenches lay amongst the brick dust and broken masonry lining its bottom.
The other had not suffered so badly during their progress through the village store, but a large chunk of brick was wedged in a bent-back corner. It was also scorched, and a fragment of rocket casing had pierced and lodged in the lid.
Employing one of the wrenches, Dooley smashed its lock, and reached in to lift out its contents. ‘Look what I found. A new toy for Libby.’ He held up the launch tube of the shoulder-fired Grail anti-aircraft missile. ‘Think we’ll find a use for it, Sarge?’
Hyde looked up from assisting Burke with the unfastening of the engine access panels. ‘I don’t think, I know we can.’
At a call for silence, all movement in the building ceased and they strained to listen for the sound that had alerted the NCO.
It was faint, but distinctive and unmistakable, the sound of a large helicopter, flying a methodical search pattern.
‘Not that it’s my nature to be a prophet of doom,’ from the window of the garage office Ripper watched the chopper turning to begin yet another sweep, ‘but I been taking a long hard look at the major’s map, and it kinda seems to me that the pilot of that there whirlybird is hovering plumb over the top of a patch of ground we got to pass through. Don’t you think there’s a better than fair chance that he is going to do something right unsociable to us?’
‘He’s going to try.’ Having checked the Grail as far as he was able without comprehensive test equipment, Libby began to reassemble it, cleaning and making a final check of every component as he did so.
‘I knew a girl once…’
‘Another cousin?’
‘Funny you should ask that, ‘cause as it happens she was, about four times removed. Anyway, she were right uppity ‘bout just about everything. Not a single fella I knew had ever got near her. You know she were going on sixteen and still a virgin. Where I come from, a girl who gets to that age and ain’t been treated to a roll in the hay, she’s either got to be ugly as sin, sewn up, or a damned fine runner. Like I were saying, nobody had got nowhere, not until her folks got a TV.’
‘Perhaps to your yokel mentality the connection is obvious,’ dine had tried, and failed to work it out for himself, ‘but do you think you could explain that?’
‘Sure. She couldn’t read.’
‘So help me, I’m going to hit him in a minute.’ Making a special effort, dine persevered. ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
‘Just about everything. See, she had this problem, not the one your friends won’t tell you about, the sort you can’t ask your friends about, you with me? Jesus, you guys are thick. She had this itch, now you with me? In a kinda personal place, like underneath. Not being able to read she’d not seen no ads in the papers, didn’t even know she could get anything for it until they tuned into a commercial station for the first time. Must have went straight out and bought a case of ointment Last I heard she was screwing like a rabbit, had ten kids and was trying to catch herself a husband.’
‘God, they get worse.’ dine stepped aside to let Dooley in. ‘Shit, have I missed story time?’
‘I could tell you the one about my Aunt Martha, who had the accident with the billy goat and the broom handle.’
‘Save it.’ dine backed out. ‘I can only take so much of this at a time.’
‘That’s what Aunt Martha said.’
Dooley took Libby aside. ‘What was the major saying about refugees?’
‘He wasn’t. Why, are you thinking to make their misery complete by diddling them out of the little they’ve got?’
‘Alright, don’t get touchy, I only asked, no harm in that, is there?’
It took little imagination to figure out what the big American was after. Libby wouldn’t be a party to any crooked schemes he might be hatching. Not that all the refugees were lily-white. Among them there were some of the nastiest individuals alive. The bunch Andrea had been with were prime examples. Russian deserters, ex-border guards, criminals, all had formed armed gangs and preyed on the weak and defenceless civilians trapped in the Zone. By stealing food, by brutality, by reducing the people’s will to live, they were responsible for as many deaths as the shells and mines and bullets.
‘You got that stovepipe working?’ Dooley changed the subject. He knew that Libby’s knowledge of the refugees was extensive, there was always a chance he could milk him of it piece by piece, provided he stayed on his right side.
‘Far as I can tell, yes. Since when have you been interested in anything except making the next buck?’
‘Think what you like. I just thought you might like to know I heard Hyde and the major talking things over. Seems you’re going to hand the turret over to Clarence, and then sit out the top with that thing, ready to do a spot of chopper hunting.’ Dooley waited for a reaction – there was none.
Expecting some such arrangement, the news came as no surprise to Libby, would not have bothered him even if he’d been unprepared for it. In a way it was as though he were packing months of combat into a few hours, an unconscious last fling. The girl’s words came back to him. He hadn’t spoken to her since, and didn’t feel he could now.