“They stuck to the most impenetrable route through the jungle – Gardner’s idea, in case the Messengers picked up the chase again. ‘This is pointless,’ Hands moaned. ‘I’m telling you, we’re safe as bloody houses. You remember the crap insurgents in Basra? Shooting from the hip like they think they’re in fucking Hollywood. These guys are ten times worse, mate.’ ‘I remember,’ Gardner said, ‘more than a hundred good soldiers died in Basra.’ ‘Yeah, but you always get one or two.’ Gardner took no noti...ce of Hands and his spiel. He had spent fifteen years of his life hyper-alert and sticking to the cardinal rule – never underestimate your enemy – and he wasn’t about to give up now. The jungle air was damp and moist, his clothes drenched, sticky. A trickling noise reached his ears, like coins jangling in his pocket. It came from the north-west. Energy coursed through him. He could hear the blood rushing through his head. All the while he was keeping one eye on Hands.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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