The Day of the Gecko by Robert G. Barrett Page A

right?’
    â€˜Like two little lovebirds,’ smiled Les.
    Eddie detected just a hint of sarcasm in Norton’s voice. ‘What did he say to you?’
    Norton leant across the table. ‘Eddie, who does this cunt think he is? Frederick fuckin’ Forsyth? He’s gonna blow the bloody joint up with spent uranium shells, or some fuckin’ thing, from the Gulf War.’
    Eddie eased back, smiled and made an open-handedgesture. ‘I told you he was the best. And talking about the best . . .’ Eddie looked up.
    â€˜Hello, young Edward,’ came a voice from near the kitchen door.
    â€˜Gecko!’ Eddie’s face broke into a grin. He got up, then walked over and shook Garrick’s hand. Les watched as they went into the usual backslapping and bonhomie two old friends are apt to do when they catch up with each other after a while.
    â€˜Jesus! You’re looking well, Eddie.’
    â€˜So are you. But,’ Eddie made another gesture with his hands, ‘when didn’t you?’
    Lewis was wearing boxer shorts and a plain white T-shirt. He had strong legs, a flat stomach, hard sinewy arms and equally strong-looking hands. Norton had to agree. ‘Can I get you something, Garrick. Coffee, tea . . .?’
    Garrick moved into the kitchen, looked at Norton’s plunger and took a sniff. ‘That coffee looks all right. Any chance of one?’
    â€˜I’ll make a fresh pot.’
    â€˜Yeah, bugger it, I’ll have a coffee too,’ said Eddie.
    â€˜Susie’s got some nice Vienna shortbreads there with chocolate cream,’ said Les, another hint of sarcasm in his voice. ‘I can arrange a plate of them for you, too.’
    â€˜Good idea,’ nodded Eddie. ‘Bring them into the lounge room. We’ll be in there.’
    Eddie and Major Lewis went inside and sat on the lounge; Les could hear them laughing while he got the coffee and that together. They should give me a little maid’s outfit, he smiled to himself, as he opened thepacket of biscuits. Norton found a tray, put the coffee and everything on it, then took it into the lounge room and placed it on one of Susie’s coffee tables while he pulled up a lounge chair.
    â€˜Ahh, good on you, Les. You’re a beauty,’ said Eddie.
    â€˜Thank you very much, Les,’ said Garrick politely. ‘That looks good.’
    â€˜No trouble, mate.’
    Eddie and The Gecko poured themselves a coffee, as did Les, and then they settled back and began picking at the biscuits. For three hard men about to discuss, then commit, a fairly serious crime, it was all very cosy.
    â€˜So you’ve met Garrick,’ Eddie said to Norton.
    â€˜Yep,’ nodded Les.
    â€˜And you remember when I told you he was the best in the business?’
    â€˜Yep,’ Les nodded again.
    Eddie turned to his old army mate. ‘Well, tell Les some of your little tricks, Gecko. Tell him about the bloke with the toothbrush.’
    Major Lewis gave his shoulders a shrug. ‘Why don’t you tell him, Eddie. You’ve always been better at telling stories then me.’
    â€˜Back in Vietnam, Les. We had to get rid of different people on odd occasions. North Vietnamese cadres. ARVN generals. The odd American officer now and again when they went a bit loopy. We had to knock this cadre for . . . for whatever. Anyway, I was gonna shoot him. But The Gecko says no. We’ll blow him up. I’ll put a bomb in his toothbrush. So he sets a bomb in histoothbrush that worked on saliva. As soon as the poor mug put it in his mouth, it blew his head completely off. It was hilarious.’
    â€˜It’s amazing the amount of germs you find in saliva,’ nodded The Gecko.
    Les shook his head in mild admiration and sipped his coffee.
    â€˜And what about the bloke with the typewriter,’ said Eddie, rocking around on the lounge. ‘Les, he set a bomb in this bloke’s typewriter. It was a Yank