Free An Enemy Within by Roy David Page B

to the deadly brute force of that opening bombardment.
    The major’s command post had been set up in a villa at the edge of a stretch of lush parkland, now dotted with the shipping-container homes of his troops.
    A sentry scanned her pass and ID, pointing the way to the door at the far end of a corridor. She knocked and, without waiting for a reply, marched in carrying her gear, which she put down at the foot of the major’s desk.
    He looked surprised. ‘Yes, Ma’am. What can I do for…’
    She offered her hand. ‘Alex Stead reporting for duty – the photographer?’
    ‘Well, goddam. We all thought you were…’
    ‘A he?’ She sighed.
    ‘Let me get you a coffee,’ he blustered.
    Presently there was a rap on the door. ‘Enter,’ the major barked.
    Lieutenant Matt McDermott hesitated at the doorway. ‘Sorry, sir. I didn’t know you had company.’
    ‘Come in, Lieutenant. This is your embed, Alex Stead.’
    McDermott’s jaw dropped. ‘But I thought…’
    ‘Okay, soldier, we’ve been through all that. Why don’t you take Miss… Alex… and show her the set-up.’ He turned to Alex. ‘The boys are going on patrol. I guess you’d want to join them?’
    She felt like telling him it was the last thing she wanted. Instead, she swallowed hard. ‘Sure,’ she murmured, gathering her gear. ‘Oh, and this is for you, I believe, Major.’ She handed him the ground rules document, duly signed. ‘I’m afraid I only got as far as point thirty-seven.’ With that, she turned on her heel, and left the room.
    *  *  *
    ‘Excuse me, Ma’am, but didn’t you give me the finger just a little while ago?’ P.J. gave Alex a suspicious look as she climbed aboard from the rear-loading ramp.
    ‘I don’t take too kindly to having a gun aimed at my face,’ Alex snapped.
    ‘That was you, was it, Ma’am,’ McDermott said. ‘Gave young P.J. here quite a surprise – him being a country boy an’ all. That right, P.J.?’
    ‘Yes, sir.’
    ‘Seriously, though. It’s bordering on plain foolish to follow a convoy too close. An Iraqi got himself killed doing that only lastweek, got two warnings to pull back, the third time they shot him. Could have been a suicide bomber.’
    ‘I’ll tell it to the driver – if he hasn’t been shot already,’ she said haughtily, checking her camera. Bobby-Jo revved up the engine and clanked his way forward. Behind them followed the second Bradley, commanded by Sergeant Dan Rath.
    It was soon unbearably hot inside the vehicle once the doors were closed; Alex felt it getting worse by the minute. She glanced up to see P.J. studying her, a mix of curiosity and indignation. He turned away from her gaze, a youthful act of self-consciousness that belied his ability to fire a rifle.
    Banging his M16 on the side of the Bradley, it vibrated with a hollow clang. ‘Crank the A/C up a little, Bobby boy,’ he shouted to the driver. Everyone laughed except Alex who felt she was reaching boiling point. It didn’t help that she’d hardly eaten and her stomach still squirmed.
    Determined not to react, it crossed her mind this machine might well have air conditioning and they had it switched off to test her mettle. It didn’t. The only relief came from a small ineffective fan.
    Some twenty minutes later, she was thankful when they stopped and took up position on a wide, dusty street where a few of the locals had set up stalls. McDermott ordered his men out of the vehicle except for Bobby-Jo and Joe Herman, on observation. Both Bradleys then began following them at a preordained distance, not so close as to be intrusive. But only a glance away from being called to action.
    Sgt Rath led out the patrol from his vehicle, the units joining as one platoon, fanned out at 5-yard intervals. His voice boomed to the men. ‘Hardware pointing to the ground – and don’t forget to smile, folks.’
    Alex waited until the soldiers were some way off, then rattled off a few shots of McDermott, as if he were