a ‘civil war’. There were a lot of battle-weary and frightened young US ground troops out there carrying some very powerful weapons and ready to fire at any vehicle that moved, especially at night, especially if its lights were off.
‘I think you’re right,’ said Mike, clearly guessing what Andy was thinking. He nodded towards them, ‘I know our boys are pretty strung out right now, and liable to loose off first, and apologise after. Maybe we should stick our lights on and hope they’re British.’
Andy nodded. ‘Yeah.’ He turned to Farid. ‘Let’s put ’em on.’
And hope for the best.
Farid nodded silently, and spoke in whispered Arabic to Amal. A moment later their headlights flicked on and cast twin fans of light along the pitted tarmac road towards the parked convoy of vehicles.
Immediately Andy could see they were army vehicles. Not American, not the fledgling Iraqi army, but were, as they suspected, British troops.
They watched as a section was issued a barked order, and began to approach them warily in two flanking groups of four - spreading out as they closed the distance, their weapons raised and aimed.
Andy cupped his hands and called out, ‘We’re civilian contractors! ’
A reply came out of the gloom from one of them. ‘Don’t bloody care! Everyone out of the vehicles where we can see you!’
Andy turned to nod at Farid, Amal and to the second car where the other two contractors had already begun to climb out. He wanted to assure their old translator that the worst of the day was over and they were now safe. But watching the eight young lads approach, caught in the glare of their headlights, meeting their eyes along the barrels of their weapons and through their weapon sights, Andy wondered how much trigger weight was already being applied to their SA80s.
‘That’s it. Outside, all of you!’ one of them shouted.
Andy kept his eyes on the nearest of the soldiers. The lad closed the last few yards alone, whilst the rest of his section held their position in a spread-out semi-circle. The young soldier - a lance corporal, Andy noticed by the chevron and scrawled name and rank on the front of his combat body armour - lowered his gun slightly, and after a moment spent silently studying them, offered a relieved grin.
‘Sorry about that gents, we’ve had one fucking shit day today.’
‘It’s gone absolutely bloody crazy out there,’ said Lieutenant Robin Carter shaking his head. ‘I woke up this morning ready for another normal day in this place, and . . . well, since then things have gone a bit haywire.’
Erich, the French contractor, spoke for the first time today with heavily accented English. ‘What is going on?’
Lieutenant Carter looked surprised. ‘You don’t know?’
‘We heard a little about some bombs in Saudi, and some riots,’ added Mike.
‘Oh boy, are there riots. It started with bombs in Mecca, Medina and Riyadh this morning. Someone blew up the Ka’bah, or at least detonated somewhere near it. If you wanted to start a holy war, that’s the way to do it. It’s spread right across Saudi Arabia, a full-scale civil war; Wahhabis, Sunnis and Shi’as. And it’s spreading like bloody bird flu. There are riots in Kuwait, Oman, the Emirates.’
‘All this over one bombing?’ asked Mike.
Carter shook his head. ‘The Holy Mosque in Mecca? You couldn’t pick a worse place in the world to target. It’s the centre of the Muslim universe. It seems like some radical group of Shi’as immediately announced they were behind it.’ The officer shook his head. ‘If you want to trigger a global Sunni versus Shi’a civil war . . . I guess that’s how you’d go about doing it. From what I’ve heard, Riyadh is a slaughterhouse, Saudi’s a mess, there are explosions, pitched battles, riots everywhere, and it’s spreading like wildfire right across the Middle East.’
Andy nodded. This was one of the things he’d written about eight years ago, in that report. A brief chapter on how easily religious sensibilities could be used as a tool to destabilise the region; a small act of leverage . . . damaging or destroying somewhere sacred, like the Holy Mosque, the Ka’bah, yielding maximum impact - civil war.
‘Jesus,’ muttered Mike.
‘Yup. And of course Iraq was one of the first countries to get into the spirit of things. It’s seriously screwed up out here,’ the lieutenant replied. ‘There have been multiple contacts going on all day in virtually every town and city. The Iraqi police and the army