Free The First End by Victor Elmalih Page A

hilarious. She started
calling their bodyguards ‘Pics Commandos.’ Fortunately, the
mercenaries misconstrued the reference and beamed with pride
anytime she ordered them around using that nomenclature.
    In a street corner, Lorna and Bill set up shop.
“The day will be long. You could have prepared something to
eat.”
    “Do I look like a housewife to you?” she
retorted, allowing herself to be pulled along. “And don’t call me
sweetheart or I’ll break your legs.”
    “You would too,” he chuckled. “How many pictures
do you think we can take and get developed?”
    “That depends how many people want one.”
    “Yes…” He turned to look at the mercenaries. “Go
back to the jeep and wait for us there,” Bill ordered Luk Bol.
    Bol eyed him with downright suspicion, but he
clearly didn’t have any real reason to argue against the order. The
jeeps were not so far away that they couldn’t keep an eye on their
two American guests, and their material—no matter how insane—seemed
to be a bit overboard for an escape attempt.
    He waved his men away and they grudgingly
trudged back to the jeeps where they lounged around, smoking and
fingering their weapons.
    “Well, hopefully the natives will still come
out,” Lorna said, eyeing the mercenaries distastefully.
    “Men and guns are a common sight around here.
But taking pictures is probably a little rarer. If the soldiers
look non-threatening, we can expect some business.” He looked at
the camera. “Just don’t tell them we are Americans. We might be
violating some sort of religious taboo.”
    “You’re planning to give all the pictures away,
right?” she asked.
    “To the first few, yes. The rest will need to
answer some questions. I’m hoping that if the first get a nice
picture, we’ll find ourselves with a steady business.”
    “I hope they don’t just kill us and take the
camera,” she grumbled half-heartedly.
    “That’s what your commandos are for. With a show
of strength like that, I doubt we’ll see much trouble. I just
needed them far enough away that people feel safe enough to
approach.”
    Right on cue, their first customer appeared. She
looked to be no more than five or six years old and she approached
hesitantly, eyes wide and focused on the camera.
    “Looks like you’re up,” the ex-marine said
softly to his companion.
    Lorna smiled at the young girl, ignoring the
girl’s matted hair, ragged clothing, and awful stench. “Hi there,
sweetheart,” she said. “Would you like to get a picture taken of
you?”
    The girl clutched a ragged looking doll under
one arm. She nodded slowly, her eyes big and round. Bill wondered
at sending a small child to the strange Americans first. He
suspected that many people were watching them right now, and he had
spotted furtive movements from dark windows and shadows to verify
the notion. Maybe they thought that a little girl would have more
success, or maybe the girl was on her own.
    Lorna snapped a picture and plugged the camera
into the laptop they had set up nearby. The printer hummed to life
and began printing. Shortly thereafter, they had a picture. “There
you go, honey. All for you.” She handed the picture to the
girl.
    The little girl immediately grabbed the picture
and ran off. Bill suspected that there would be a fight over the
picture.
    When people learned that portraits were being
offered for free, everyone rushed toward the foreigners. Young and
older came in droves, it seemed. Each was exposed to the camera
with his or her favorite pose. In front of the camera, an old man
found his strength and his youth. He got rid of his cane and asked
Lorna to take picture with him. Lorna accepted. Bill took the
picture. Before leaving, the old man asked Lorna if she had
something for his irritated skin.
    “Can I see?” asked Lorna
    Lorna dug into her bag and pulled out a tube of
cream she handled to the man. “You definitely have to see a doctor,
sir.”
    The man left. He was happy with the