Hard Target by James Rouch Read Free Book Online Page B

saw Burke standing on the skimmer’s roof with two of the heavy metal-bound skirt panels held high above his head.
    ‘That’s enough arsing about. Fetch that stuff down here on the double and do the ruddy job.’ As Hyde turned to leave, there was a huge splash behind him and a fan of water hit his back and showered past on either side. ‘Sorry, Sarge, it slipped.’
    Although, being much closer to the point of impact, Dooley must have been absolutely soaked by the ‘accident’, Hyde could hear him fighting to suppress a laugh, and mostly failing. He gritted his teeth, took a deep breath and kept going. There would be other times, if the Ruskies didn’t get them first, when he would be able to get those two back into line, and he’d enjoy doing it.
    In order to keep the Iron Cow’s IR signature as low as possible, they had removed to a flood-scooped hollow beneath the overhanging roots of a beech for a brew.
    Nelson had been double dosed and left on board. There was nothing else they could do for him. The terrible nerve-jangling hooting he’d made for all often minutes had forced them to administer the second injection. Now, for a while, he had lapsed into oblivion.
    Sergeant Hyde found an early opportunity to extract some measure of revenge on Dooley and Burke, when he sent them to relieve the two men on guard at the top of the ravine, only a minute after they’d finished bolting on the replacement skirts.
    Begrudgingly, causing the maximum disruption, the pair extracted themselves from where, by dint of much wriggling and removing of pebbles from beneath their backsides, they’d managed to attain a degree of comfort and left the hollow.
    As they did, the tops of the trees were thrown into violent motion. Both men hurled themselves flat as with a loud whirring of blades a helicopter flew over. The trees continued to thrash back and forth and shower down leaves for some time after the chopper had gone.
    Before the trees had settled down the pair were up and running for the slope. ‘Bloody hell. From the racket you two were making I thought a bleeding elephant was coming up behind us. You made more noise than that chopper.’
    ‘Piss off and get your coffee.’ Dooley began to hack at the sides of the shallow excavation to accommodate his larger frame. Unable to resist it, Libby offered a parting shot. ‘You’ll find the worms quite friendly. Have a nice stay.’
    Burke threw a shovelful of dirt after the departing pair. ‘You reckon that chopper spotted us?’
    ‘How the fuck should I know? Probably wasn’t even on a recon’ flight, just on his way home. Mind you, if he were taking a few frames he’ll be in for a surprise. He’ll have one of a pair of silly fuckers laying face down in the stream. That’ll keep the unimaginative bastards guessing, they’ll wonder what sort of silly-arse games we’re playing now.’ Pushing one final spadeful of soil aside, Dooley settled down.
‘You’re fucking mad.’ Burke couldn’t decide if the American was serious or not. ‘The whole fucking world is mad, or we wouldn’t be here. But it is, and we are; so let’s enjoy it.’
Still undecided, Burke thought he might as well join in. ‘You’re right. The weather’s nice, we’re in the country and soon the little birdies will be singing...’
    ‘And right now I’m going for a little crappies.’ Wandering off a few paces into the middle of the track, Dooley began to lower his pants. ‘... and we’re about to witness yet another demonstration of nature’s own little miracle.’ Burke plucked a small white daisy from the midst of a tuft of coarse leaves. ‘How to convert a pound and a half of steaming hot shit into a gem of miniature perfection.’
    ‘Fuck off. This ain’t no fertiliser I’m dropping. What happens when you put your foot in some really pig-shit awful dog dirt?’ ‘I stop, feel ill and don’t wear the shoes again for ages.’ ‘Exactly. Well, my crap has much the same effect on tanks