‘The steward is coming over, people are putting down their cutlery.
It’s a bad scene because most of the people in the mess are black and Hispanic. They’re tuning in and they’re in no hurry to poleaxe Sonny Makatoa.’
The Americans swapped glances.
‘So Peckerwood tells the steward “It’s okay” and says to Sonny,
“Why the fuck would I have your family on my arm?” like he wouldn’t sink so low. And Sonny points at the tattoo and says, “‘Cos you’re wearing a something-or-other moko.”’
‘Ngati Tuwharetoa,’ said Sonny. ‘The tribe is Ngati Tuwharetoa.’
Mac continued. ‘The guy doesn’t know what the hell is going on.
And then Sonny says: “If you don’t know whose family you’re putting on your body, Chalks, then don’t fucking put it on. Understand that, boy?”’
Sawtell laughed. ‘“Chalks” and “boy” in the same sentence – bet he never got that in Tupelo.’
‘So Peckerwood leaps up,’ said Mac, ‘and Sonny just looks him up and down. Doesn’t move. Just leans further in. Peckerwood is clenching his fi sts and Sonny is ready for him. They were about to get into it.’
‘Yeah, so?’ said Hard-on.
‘So I stopped it,’ said Mac, looking at Sonny. ‘Got between them.
I shielded the Peckerwood.’
Hard-on slid his hands over his stubbly head, exasperated. ‘Oh, man. You stopped it? Why?!’
Sonny stared at Mac.
”Cos that’s how I reacted,’ said Mac.
The good humour defl ated. Mac looked down at his plate, said,
‘The guy was ignorant, had no idea what someone like Sonny could do to him.’
‘I wasn’t going to hurt him – just wanted to know about the tat,’ said Sonny.
‘You were going to take him apart.’
Sonny chuckled, then went serious. ‘You got it wrong, Chalks.
The motto of the story is this: you don’t spend a week under a soldier’s protection and then side against him in a slap-up.’
Mac looked at the lads, who nodded sagely.
‘Not how it works, cuz.’
The helo swooped in to the landing zone a little after four pm. Sonny had wanted to go while there was still wind around in the tops and the noise of an aircraft wouldn’t drift. They landed downwind from the area they were targeting as an extra precaution. The bloke called Billy de-powered and the thing came to a silent stop.
They piled out in an assortment of clothing: the Green Berets in their fatigues, Mac still in his overalls and black baseball cap, Sonny’s boys – four of them in total – all wearing the olive and blacks they’d had in camp. The new addition was the fi eld radio with throat mics.
They were wired again and Mac could see the Americans were more comfortable with it.
Sonny pulled them in, spelled it out: no heroics, no rock stars. He wanted to turn the thing around real quick without anyone getting shot. If that meant Garrison’s blokes just threw down their weapons, all for the better.
He wanted to pull the classic special forces trick: attack at about three am with maximum force and see if the enemy had the ticker for it.
Mac had one proviso on that: he’d rather take one guy – Sawtell or Hard-on – into the structure and try to snatch the girl. He’d want to do it while there was a diversion elsewhere.
Sonny gave him the okay. ‘But pick your target well. Once the shit starts there’s going to be fi re everywhere. Once it starts I can’t guarantee the girl.’
They started out and made good time across bad terrain. There was a moon and the lads were fi t. This was a lightning raid and everything they needed they carried on their webbing. M16 A2s and M4 carbines sat across their chests. Hemi hauled a heavy calibre machine gun and Mac had a borrowed SIG 9 mm handgun, with a customised suppressor that he stashed in a webbing pocket. It wasn’t as good as the Heckler but it was better than nothing.
Mac was still woozy and he struggled to keep up. He was also worried about his wrist. It was still puffed and he couldn’t get his hand properly around the SIG’s grip. But he kept that to himself.
Hemi walked point and Hard-on swept from the back. It was steep, and dark where the branches hung low; roots tripped them.
But there was little noise from the party.
Sawtell hung back a bit and Mac slowed to walk with him. There was something on his mind, something he had to clear before any shooting started.
‘John, can we talk?’ he said in a rasping whisper.
Sawtell looked at him. Mac saw a cammed face and the whites of Sawtell’s eyes.
‘What is it?’
‘Ah, the girl – Judith Hannah,’ said Mac.
‘Yeah?’
‘There’s another one, I think.’
‘Another girl? With Garrison?’
‘Yeah. Kidnapped.’
‘Who?’
‘Remember I told you about Minky?’
‘The CIA guy?’
‘Yeah. Well, he’s dead.’
‘Who?’
‘One guess.’
They stopped, Sawtell looked away, put his hands on his hips.
‘Fuck!’
‘Yeah – not good.’
‘You shot him?’
‘I was ambushed. I got scared, carried away.’
‘And this girl?’
‘His daughter.’
‘Minky’s daughter?’
Mac nodded. The entire thing was a less than ideal situation and one that he had been hoping would go away. But here they were, about to storm a compound, and a young girl was in there somewhere. It didn’t seem fair not to warn the soldiers.
‘You thought maybe some of us might like to know this? Shit, McQueen, how old is she?’
‘Dunno – eight or nine.’
Sawtell bit his bottom lip. He looked angry. Real angry.
Mac tried to dilute it. ‘Look, I didn’t want to tell you guys in Ralla
‘cos I was embarrassed, and I was hoping I’d be able to get her when I snatched Hannah. And then we ran into Sonny and, well, you’ve seen what he’s like with me.’
Sawtell nodded. ‘Yeah, I saw that.’
‘So, whaddya reckon?’
‘You’d better tell Sonny is what I reckon, ‘cos if you put a young girl’s life on his conscience it might be you he comes after.’
‘Reckon?’
‘I don’t think he’d wear that shit.’ Sawtell almost spat it. ‘And I don’t have a problem with that either.’
They eyeballed one another. They were strong words: if the girl got hurt, Sawtell would stand back and let Sonny whack the culprit.
Soldiers were a whole different breed.
Mac thought about his next words very carefully. ‘It’s just that I don’t want to get Sonny distracted with the racial stuff just before we do this thing.’
‘And why wouldn’t he be distracted by that? You focus everything on the cute white girl and a little brown girl
