Aaron had realized he had fucked up and stammered, 'He kind of hitched a lift from me in the city to take a look at the locks -you know, and check out the chicks ...'
Michael nodded, not really that fussed. I turned back to the ship as it left the dock, wanting very much to walk right over and ram my can in Aaron's mouth.
After a minute or so of university stuff Michael got a nod from the BG and started to wind down the conversation. As he held out his hand again for a farewell he glanced over one more time at the leotards and pompoms. A whistle sounded out commands and the drums sparked up once more.
'I have to go now. Will I see you next week, Mr. Y?'
'Sure thing.' Aaron gave him a high five.
'You get that project done?'
'I think you'll like it. Anyway, catch you later.' Out of politeness he nodded to me over Aaron's shoulder, then the window powered up and the Lexus moved off, leaving behind a poodle-size piss puddle from the air- conditioning.
Aaron waved until they were out of sight, then spun towards me, his face abject as the brass section and girls joined in the fast drum rhythm.
'Nick, I'm really sorry.' He shook his head.
'I just didn't think. I'm not really cut out for this kind of thing. That's Charlie's son did I tell you he's on the course I teach?
I'm sorry, I just didn't think.'
'It's OK, mate. No damage done.' I was lying. The last thing I needed was to be introduced to the target and, even worse, have the BG knowing what I looked like. There was also the connection with Aaron. My heart was pounding. All in all, not a good day out.
Those guys with him Robert and Ross? They're the ones who hung up those Colombians. They're Charlie's special guys, I've heard stories about-' Aaron's expression suddenly changed.
'Did you have something to do with that bomb in London? I mean, is this all about-' I shook my head as I swallowed the last of the juice. I could feel the blood rushing around my head.
I'm sorry, it's not any of my business. I don't really want to know.'
I wasn't too sure if he'd believed me, but it didn't matter.
'How far have we got left to Michael's house?'
'Like I said, five, maybe six miles. If the picture back at our place is anything to go by, it's some kind of palace.'
I started to get my cash out as I walked towards the trailer window.
'I think I'd better have a look at it, then, don't you? What about another drink while we wait for Michael to get home and settle down?'
The expression on his face still said guilty.
'Tell you what,' I said, 'you buy and then we're even.'
At least that got a fleeting smile out of him as he delved into his grubby pockets for coins.
'And see if they have anything for a headache, could you?'
Over the other side of the car park was an ATM with the HSBC logo. I knew I wouldn't be able to withdraw any more money today, but within hours of me attempting to, the Yes Man would at least know I was in- country.
We spent the next forty minutes killing time at the plastic table with just the sound of the lo cos humming along their tracks as the entertainment took a break for lunch. I had the Jackie Os back on, trying to rest my eyes and head. It seemed no one ever got a headache round here.
Aaron took the opportunity to explain about the US stand-down the previous December. The fact that he could reel off all the dates and numbers so precisely emphasized his bitterness about what had happened.
In total, more than four hundred thousand acres of Canal Zone and bases, worth more than $10 billion, had been handed over -along with the canal itself, which had been built and paid for by the US to the tune of a further $30 billion. And the only way they could come back was under the terms of the DeConcini Reservation, which allowed for military intervention if the canal was endangered.
It was all interesting stuff, but what was more important to me was confirming that Michael would be at university this week.
'For sure.' Aaron nodded.
'They'll all be headed back. The semester started for most folks last week.'
We headed for the house, driving into Clayton. Aaron explained that now the US had gone Charlie had got his hands on some of the Zone and built on it.
The only security these days at the guard house was an old guy sleeping on the veranda of the guard room with half a jam-jar of something resembling black tea by his side, looking quite annoyed to be woken up to lift the barrier.
Clayton might become a technology park one day, but not yet. We passed deserted barrack blocks with tall grass growing between them. The US Army's legacy was still very much in evidence. I could see stencilling on steel plates above every barrack door: Building 127, HQ Theater Support Brigade, Fort Clayton, Panama, US Army South. I wondered if our SOUTH COM bosses during my time in Colombia had sent us our satellite photography and orders from these very buildings.
The neighbourhood looked as if it had been evacuated before a hurricane. The children's swings between the deserted bungalows and palm-fringed, two-floor apartment blocks were showing the first signs of rust through their blue paintwork, and the baseball ground, which needed a good mow, still had the results of the last game displayed on the scoreboard. US road signs told us to travel at 15 mph. because of children playing.
We reached the other side of the massive fort complex and headed into the mountains. The jungle closed in on both sides of the narrow, winding tarmac road. I could only see about five metres; after that everything blurred into a wall of green. I'd heard about a patrol in Borneo in the Sixties who had a man down with a gunshot wound. It wasn't fatal, but he did need evacuation. Leaving him comfortable at the bottom of a high feature, all hands moved uphill to cut a winch point out of the jungle so the rescue helicopter could pull him out and cas-evac him to hospital. This was no big deal, and the wounded man would have been airborne by last light if only they hadn't made the fatal error of not leaving anyone with him or marking where he was lying. It took them over a week to find where they'd left him, even though it was less than a hundred metres away at the bottom of the hill. By then he was dead.
The sun beat down on the windscreen, showing up all the bugs that had smashed against it and been smeared by the wipers. It couldn't have been easy for Aaron to see through.
This was secondary jungle; movement through it would be very, very difficult. I much preferred primary, where the canopy is much higher and the sun finds it difficult to penetrate to ground level so there's less vegetation. It's still a pain in the arse to travel through, because there's still all kinds of stuff on the ground.
Grey clouds were starting to cover the sky and make everything darker I thought again about all the months I'd spent living in jungles whilst on operations. You'd come out two stone lighter, and because of the lack of sunlight your skin becomes as white and clammy as an uncooked chip, but I really liked it. I always had a fantastic sense of anticipation when I entered jungle, because it's the most wonderful place to be; tactically, compared with any other terrain, it's a great environment to operate in. Everything you need is there:
shelter, food and, more importantly, water. All you really have to get used to is the rain, bites by mozzies (anything small that flies), and 95 per cent humidity.
Aaron leant forward and peered up through the windscreen.
'Here they are, look right on time.'
The grey clouds had disappeared, pushed out by blacker ones. I knew what that meant and, sure enough, the sky suddenly emptied on us. It was like sitting under an upturned bath. We hurriedly wound up our windows, but only about three quarters of the way, because humidity was already misting up the inside of the windscreen. Aaron hit the de mister and its noise was drowned as the roof took a pounding.
Lightning cracked and sizzled, splashing the jungle with brilliant blue light.
An almighty clap of thunder boomed above us. It must have set off a few car alarms back at the locks.
Aaron slowed the car to walking pace as the wipers went into hyper drive slapping each side of the windscreen and having no effect at all as rain stair rodded into the tarmac and bounced back into the air. Water
