Camelteers Fuck mate, we used to hit that shit hard in Baghdad. Macca said and spat.

He had suddenly become very animated and excited about the new cargo. We never used to get the real shit, only like, dexies or sometimes Ritalin; and we had to sign off for it and shit. But the Blackwater guys fuck mate they were dodgy as fuck. You could get anything you wanted from them: Meth, smack, hash, coke, girls or boys. Real sick puppies the lot of them. And I suppose you are one of those ethical mercenaries then are ya Macca? Darren said with a wry smile, shielding his eyes from the glare of the afternoon sun. Macca dipped his hand into a tin and rolled up another ball of chew. He made squealchy noises as he tried to frame his response around the wad of tobacco. Finally, he made a look of feigned offense and turned and reached out with open arms imploringly to his men at the rear of the caravan. A mercenary! A fuckin mercenary! Im a decorated war hero and now this bloke, my old mate Dazza here has the hide to call me a mercenary. Maccas camel groaned, seemingly in agreement. More like a legend in your own lunchbox mate, someone shouted back. You just earnt yourself graveyard watch tonight Jimmy! Macca shot back. He looked at Darren and took his Oakleys off for effect, the sun almost halo like behind his head, looking serious for a moment. Nah mate Im no mercenary. Am I a freedom fighter? Im not a romantic by any sense of the word. Theres not gunna be a revolution, not one that we can win by force anyway. Nah mate, Im just here to protect our right to live the kind of lifestyle that we deserve to have as human beings. He spat again. The Camel gurgled. Darren looked at Macca, at King Abdullah, and back at Macca. Mate you are starting to resemble that camel a bit do you know that? Its starting to scare me. Macca reached out and gave the Kings neck a good rub, motes of dust puffing out like spores, glistening in the sun. You know what the Bedouin say Dazza: Know thy camel, know thy self. Macca looked at the shadows on the ground and raised his fist in the air to call for a stop of the caravan. Ok, guys as you can see, we have about an hour

before it starts to get dark. Obviously we wont make Outpost Blueknob tonight, so: Patch and Jimmy, get out the Drone and reckie the surrounding area; make sure theres nobody gunna bother us tonight. Everyone else lets scout an area for a decent hide. *** It had been a slow, quiet watch. The silence broken only by the occasional camel noises and very rarely, by the leathery sound of bats flying ghostlike through the night. Jimmy gazed into the abyss, his thoughts turning inevitably to thinking about the past, when life made more sense. When cash was good as gold, and when soldiers defended their country and its citizens. Jimmy agreed with Macca; they werent mercenaries, they were the protectors of the only truly free people left. There was no revolution, that much was certain, only a vast, sprawling network of loosely affiliated underground communities all held together by the Australian Camel Trading Co.