If the truck didn't finally blow, whoever the fuck had fired that round was out there somewhere and...Except that the shot that killed us all — mayb... not there and then but — fucks sake — we were on foot and deep, deep, deep in bandit country — that shot was never was followed up. Probably a lone shepherd boy or some other fuck — happened to have an RPG to hand, had a go. Or so we reasoned as we salvaged what we could carry from the wreck, growing used to the lack of in-coming, knowing that. Then he pleaded anoncoming headache as an excuse for departure and Pamela accompanied himto the room. It was difficult to persuade Joe and Jim that they did notwish an escort through the halls.Once inside the room door Pamela asked, "Why did you want to leave insuch a hurry? We were having fun." I wasn't having fun," replied George."You sure looked like you were enjoying it when you were dancing cheek-to-cheek with Joe. Your eyes looked positively glassy. And he lookedlike the cat that. More

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