pulverized base of one of the guard towers. Its automatic coil-guns whirred and clicked, sensing their presence, but the bent, broken snouts just shook angry fingers at the sky.
In the distance, Uluru glowed red: a warning beacon in the early morning sun.
The two SAS men, in their RAF disguises, walked silently in front of them, their hands manacled behind their backs.
“How far is it?” Wilton asked, eyeing the red rock behemoth in the distance. It was hard to judge scale in the desert.
“We’re in the exclusion zone. It’s about two hours of hard tabbing from here to the base itself,” Chisnall said. “We want to get there while everything is still in chaos from the raid.”
From this distance, chaos looked to be an understatement. A pall of smoke hung over Uluru from what must have been hundreds of fires, burning fiercely.
“Like the fires of Hades,” Chisnall murmured.
“Call hell and tell them the Angels are coming,” Brogan said.
“I just remembered that I have this really important appointment,” Wilton said.
“Where’s that?” Price asked.
“Anywhere,” Wilton said. “Anywhere but here.”
“Not me,” Brogan said. “There’s no place I’d rather be.We’ve really hurt the Pukes for the first time, and this is our chance to stick the knife in.”
“There’s a whole lot of places I’d rather be,” Price said.
“Yeah, like ten-buck-pizza Sundays at Hell’s Kitchen,” Wilton said.
“Mmmmm, pizza,” Monster agreed. “Best food in the world!”
“I hate to break it to you,” Chisnall said, “but there are better things in this world than melted cheese and processed meat on a bread-dough base.”
“Mmmmm, pizza,” Monster said again.
“The best thing in the world is not food,” Wilton said. “It’s when you’re shredding down the monkey trails. That’s beautiful, dude. That’s better than sex.”
“Like you’d know,” Price said.
“I know more than you think,” Wilton said, trying to look mysterious and not pulling it off.
“Really?” Price asked. “You ever even kissed a girl, Wilton?”
“Or a guy, whatever,” Brogan said.
“Shut up,” Wilton said.
“Didn’t think so,” Price said. “You want to know the best thing in the world? It’s your first real kiss. You’ll find out one day.”
“Phantom, you’ve been reading too many romance novels,” Chisnall said.
“I think I just puked in my mouth,” Wilton said.
They arrived at the lip of an enormous crater where oneof the missiles had landed. It was wide but shallow, a quirk of the explosion and the geology of the underlying rock. Rather than skirt around it, Chisnall led the team down the soft, pulverized sand. Their boots slipped and skidded down the slope, creating mini landslides. The acrid after-smell of explosive was strong here. Parts of a tail fin protruded from the earth on the far side of the crater.
“What about you, Monster?” Brogan asked. “What do you think is the best thing in the world?”
“Well, my dude, the Monster thinks that nothing beats a really good fart.”
There was a second’s silence before the entire team burst into laughter.
“Evolution kinda skipped your family, didn’t it?” Price said.
“So who wins?” Wilton asked. “Do we get to vote?”
“I’m not voting for Monster’s fart,” Price said.
“There’s no voting,” Chisnall said. “I get to pick the winner.”
“Why’s that?” Brogan asked.
“Because I’m the lieutenant,” Chisnall said. “That’s just the way it works. This is not a democracy.”
“How come you’re the LT?” Wilton asked. “You stronger or smarter than the rest of us?”
“No, Wilton, just better-looking,” Chisnall said.
“Uh-uh, LT, you sho ain’t purty,” Wilton said. “Now, Sergeant Brogan, she’s purty.”
“You want some of this, soldier?” Brogan asked.
“If you bought me flowers and a nice dinner, I’d think about it,” Wilton said.
Chisnall laughed. “I wouldn’t if
In the distance, Uluru glowed red: a warning beacon in the early morning sun.
The two SAS men, in their RAF disguises, walked silently in front of them, their hands manacled behind their backs.
“How far is it?” Wilton asked, eyeing the red rock behemoth in the distance. It was hard to judge scale in the desert.
“We’re in the exclusion zone. It’s about two hours of hard tabbing from here to the base itself,” Chisnall said. “We want to get there while everything is still in chaos from the raid.”
From this distance, chaos looked to be an understatement. A pall of smoke hung over Uluru from what must have been hundreds of fires, burning fiercely.
“Like the fires of Hades,” Chisnall murmured.
“Call hell and tell them the Angels are coming,” Brogan said.
“I just remembered that I have this really important appointment,” Wilton said.
“Where’s that?” Price asked.
“Anywhere,” Wilton said. “Anywhere but here.”
“Not me,” Brogan said. “There’s no place I’d rather be.We’ve really hurt the Pukes for the first time, and this is our chance to stick the knife in.”
“There’s a whole lot of places I’d rather be,” Price said.
“Yeah, like ten-buck-pizza Sundays at Hell’s Kitchen,” Wilton said.
“Mmmmm, pizza,” Monster agreed. “Best food in the world!”
“I hate to break it to you,” Chisnall said, “but there are better things in this world than melted cheese and processed meat on a bread-dough base.”
“Mmmmm, pizza,” Monster said again.
“The best thing in the world is not food,” Wilton said. “It’s when you’re shredding down the monkey trails. That’s beautiful, dude. That’s better than sex.”
“Like you’d know,” Price said.
“I know more than you think,” Wilton said, trying to look mysterious and not pulling it off.
“Really?” Price asked. “You ever even kissed a girl, Wilton?”
“Or a guy, whatever,” Brogan said.
“Shut up,” Wilton said.
“Didn’t think so,” Price said. “You want to know the best thing in the world? It’s your first real kiss. You’ll find out one day.”
“Phantom, you’ve been reading too many romance novels,” Chisnall said.
“I think I just puked in my mouth,” Wilton said.
They arrived at the lip of an enormous crater where oneof the missiles had landed. It was wide but shallow, a quirk of the explosion and the geology of the underlying rock. Rather than skirt around it, Chisnall led the team down the soft, pulverized sand. Their boots slipped and skidded down the slope, creating mini landslides. The acrid after-smell of explosive was strong here. Parts of a tail fin protruded from the earth on the far side of the crater.
“What about you, Monster?” Brogan asked. “What do you think is the best thing in the world?”
“Well, my dude, the Monster thinks that nothing beats a really good fart.”
There was a second’s silence before the entire team burst into laughter.
“Evolution kinda skipped your family, didn’t it?” Price said.
“So who wins?” Wilton asked. “Do we get to vote?”
“I’m not voting for Monster’s fart,” Price said.
“There’s no voting,” Chisnall said. “I get to pick the winner.”
“Why’s that?” Brogan asked.
“Because I’m the lieutenant,” Chisnall said. “That’s just the way it works. This is not a democracy.”
“How come you’re the LT?” Wilton asked. “You stronger or smarter than the rest of us?”
“No, Wilton, just better-looking,” Chisnall said.
“Uh-uh, LT, you sho ain’t purty,” Wilton said. “Now, Sergeant Brogan, she’s purty.”
“You want some of this, soldier?” Brogan asked.
“If you bought me flowers and a nice dinner, I’d think about it,” Wilton said.
Chisnall laughed. “I wouldn’t if
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