and stepped out on to the road.
‘Don’t think you should be parking there, mate,’ said Kenny, aiming for a friendly tone. ‘Could cause an accident.’
The man stretched extravagantly. Yawned. And stretched some more. He was wearing jeans and a checked shirt. Around five feet ten and slim. The man rubbed his eyes and peered at Kenny.
‘And you are?’ he asked with a smile.
‘Just a concerned punter,’ answered Kenny, not completely taken in by the smile. ‘You really shouldn’t park in these spaces. If two cars came along here at the same time, there would be nowhere for them to go.’
‘You’re right, dude,’ the other man said, rubbing his head. ‘I got lost late last night and wasn’t sure where else to go.’
‘American?’ asked Kenny.
‘Canadian,’ the man replied while still smiling.
‘Sorry. You must get that a lot.’
‘More than I care to mention, fella. But no harm done, huh?’ He looked down at Kenny’s bare legs and his running gear. ‘You out for a little light exercise?’
‘Yeah,’ answered Kenny, kicking his legs out to keep them warm and then changed the subject. ‘Didn’t you realise that there was a hotel just down the road?’ Kenny gestured behind him with his thumb.
‘They’re full, man. I arrived fairly late yesterday. Just a spur-of-the-moment thing. Thought I would get in some fishing.’ He looked over his shoulder at the loch. Kenny followed his line of vision to see just through the trees and ten yards down the lochside that there was a small beach. A couple of men were already thigh deep in the water, their lines cast.
‘You going far?’ the man asked.
‘Nah,’ answered Kenny. ‘Another half hour.’ He gave each leg a little kick, took a deep breath and turned away. He waved over his shoulder at the tourist. Paused, smiled and said, ‘Have a nice day.’
He was still chuckling to himself five minutes later.
Ten minutes later he arrived in Balquhidder and thought again about the tourist guy. Pretty nondescript. He ’d have trouble picking him out of a police line-up.
16
Mason Budge pursed his lips as he considered the sport of fishing. The nearest he wanted to come to a fish was when it was served up with a nice garlic sauce. The thought of standing in cold water up to his balls for hours on end just did not appeal.
Placing his hands on his lower back he arched out his spine. And groaned. Jeez, it was great to get out of that car. What a horrible night. He hated the dark out here in the country and because it had been a cloudy night it had gotten really dark. He shuddered. Man, the countryside was messed up. Nature could go and fuck itself for all he cared. All those noises. All those critters scrabbling about in the dirt; heavens only knew what diseases they could pass on.
If you asked him, that was where AIDS came from right there. Some fucker went camping and caught it and then infected the rest of the world. Gay plague, my ass, he thought and grinned at his unintentional joke. Them right-wing scientists couldn’t work out where the disease came from and thought, I know, I hate gays, let’s blame them.
As for those midges. Man, it was a wonder anyone stayed outside the cities in this country. Nasty little fuckers. He had gone for a little walk before dark, going for a little recon, and got bitten on every available piece of skin. He ’d raced back to the car and blessed its airtight seals for the rest of the night.
It was the army he turned to when his gramps’ money ran out. He thought about going back for more but realised that was a waste of time. Best to find a way to hurt people and get paid for it. The Canadian army welcomed him with open arms and then when it realised he had a knack for it they moved him to Special Ops and from there to NATO’s peacekeeping corps. Peacekeeping, my ass.
He had a ball.
At first.
Before Bosnia, he could pretty much take on anything; after a week in a basement waiting out a sniper, with a
‘Don’t think you should be parking there, mate,’ said Kenny, aiming for a friendly tone. ‘Could cause an accident.’
The man stretched extravagantly. Yawned. And stretched some more. He was wearing jeans and a checked shirt. Around five feet ten and slim. The man rubbed his eyes and peered at Kenny.
‘And you are?’ he asked with a smile.
‘Just a concerned punter,’ answered Kenny, not completely taken in by the smile. ‘You really shouldn’t park in these spaces. If two cars came along here at the same time, there would be nowhere for them to go.’
‘You’re right, dude,’ the other man said, rubbing his head. ‘I got lost late last night and wasn’t sure where else to go.’
‘American?’ asked Kenny.
‘Canadian,’ the man replied while still smiling.
‘Sorry. You must get that a lot.’
‘More than I care to mention, fella. But no harm done, huh?’ He looked down at Kenny’s bare legs and his running gear. ‘You out for a little light exercise?’
‘Yeah,’ answered Kenny, kicking his legs out to keep them warm and then changed the subject. ‘Didn’t you realise that there was a hotel just down the road?’ Kenny gestured behind him with his thumb.
‘They’re full, man. I arrived fairly late yesterday. Just a spur-of-the-moment thing. Thought I would get in some fishing.’ He looked over his shoulder at the loch. Kenny followed his line of vision to see just through the trees and ten yards down the lochside that there was a small beach. A couple of men were already thigh deep in the water, their lines cast.
‘You going far?’ the man asked.
‘Nah,’ answered Kenny. ‘Another half hour.’ He gave each leg a little kick, took a deep breath and turned away. He waved over his shoulder at the tourist. Paused, smiled and said, ‘Have a nice day.’
He was still chuckling to himself five minutes later.
Ten minutes later he arrived in Balquhidder and thought again about the tourist guy. Pretty nondescript. He ’d have trouble picking him out of a police line-up.
16
Mason Budge pursed his lips as he considered the sport of fishing. The nearest he wanted to come to a fish was when it was served up with a nice garlic sauce. The thought of standing in cold water up to his balls for hours on end just did not appeal.
Placing his hands on his lower back he arched out his spine. And groaned. Jeez, it was great to get out of that car. What a horrible night. He hated the dark out here in the country and because it had been a cloudy night it had gotten really dark. He shuddered. Man, the countryside was messed up. Nature could go and fuck itself for all he cared. All those noises. All those critters scrabbling about in the dirt; heavens only knew what diseases they could pass on.
If you asked him, that was where AIDS came from right there. Some fucker went camping and caught it and then infected the rest of the world. Gay plague, my ass, he thought and grinned at his unintentional joke. Them right-wing scientists couldn’t work out where the disease came from and thought, I know, I hate gays, let’s blame them.
As for those midges. Man, it was a wonder anyone stayed outside the cities in this country. Nasty little fuckers. He had gone for a little walk before dark, going for a little recon, and got bitten on every available piece of skin. He ’d raced back to the car and blessed its airtight seals for the rest of the night.
It was the army he turned to when his gramps’ money ran out. He thought about going back for more but realised that was a waste of time. Best to find a way to hurt people and get paid for it. The Canadian army welcomed him with open arms and then when it realised he had a knack for it they moved him to Special Ops and from there to NATO’s peacekeeping corps. Peacekeeping, my ass.
He had a ball.
At first.
Before Bosnia, he could pretty much take on anything; after a week in a basement waiting out a sniper, with a
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