Limit of Exploitation Read Online Free PDF Page B

Gun fixed on the tailgates edge.
    The troops with their heads wrapped in Arab Shemaghs, sprint for the Chinook and start offloading boxes of ammunition, rations and water, all the commodities of war. The pilot keeps the rotors turning and burning at high revs, ready to lift off at a seconds notice should the shit hit the fan.
    Ian leans in towards John’s, grabbing his collar he shouts in his ear to make himself heard above the din of the roaring helicopter
    “WHEN YOU GET TO BRIZE NORTON THERE’LL BE A VEHICLE THERE FOR YOU. GO TO THIS GRID DOWN ON THE TRAINING AREA IN ALDERSHOT. IT SHOULD HELP.” He shoves an army notebook into John’s top pocket. John silently nods in understanding.
    Through his goggles Ian makes eye contact. “DONT FUCK THIS UP SON OR WE ARE BOTH IN THE SHIT.”
    John watches as the loadmaster waves towards him and give a lazy thumbs up. He turns back towards Ian and holds out his fist; Ian punches down on it, and then grabbing his rifle and Bergen, John disappears into the screaming dust cloud.
    The high-pitched whine of the turbines is suddenly replaced by the rapid heavy thumping of the aircrafts rotor blades as the Chinook rockets skyward through the swirling sandy cloud. High overhead the circling Apache kicks out sun-bright chaff decoy flares. One Taliban shoulder launched surface to air missile could make the Chinooks flight a very short one.
    Inside the aircraft John cranes his neck to peer through one of the porthole windows. Below him FOB Eagle, his home for the last four months, slowly shrinks away.
    He shifts round in his red nylon seat and sets his mind on London.

Chapter 8
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Emma
    The bedroom is big enough and it is nicely decorated, but it’s not home. A single bed, a bedside table with a lamp and some drawers. There’s a TV and a DVD player but not much else. Of all the unanswered questions running through her young mind, Emma wonders why there are no windows in the bedroom most of all.
    She is past the crying and fear stage. There’s lots she doesn’t understand, but all she wants to do now is go home and see her mum. Lying on her bed in jeans and a T-shirt, she props herself up on her elbows as she hears a key turning in the locked door. Perhaps that’s mum coming to get me.
    Emma is small for her age, maybe even under­nourished. Her mousey brown hair could do with a wash and she can’t remember the last time she brushed her teeth. She flops back down and stares at the ceiling as Senka enters with a tray of breakfast.
    “Morning child, how did you sleep?”
    There’s no response, Emma is emotionally drained. Senka is pleasant enough but she’s not mum.
    “I’ve brought you your coco pops, these are your favourite.” She places the tray on the bed. “Am I right?”
    Emma silently nods, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “Am I going home today?”
    “Child, we have talked of this, remember?”
    Senka checks over her shoulder before squirting a syringe full of Secobarbital sodium into the bowl of milk. Just enough to keep Emma docile and compliant.
    Emma ignores her. “When is Mummy coming to get me?”
    “Your Mummy will be coming soon, she has to do some work first, and then when she is finished she’ll be coming, just as we talked about.”
    “I just want to go home now, when’s my Mum coming?” Emma voice starts to quake as Senka does her best bedside manner.
    “Emma, Emma, no need for tears, she is coming, just a little while longer I promise you, and then you’ll be going home”
    “I don’t like it here, there’s nothing to do. Can’t I go out and play?”
    “Remember we said it wasn’t safe just now, we said it would be better to stay here for now.”
    Defeated and confused Emma gives up and slips back into silent mode. Senka feels the pangs of guilt and shame well up in herself. “Tell you what, how about I get some new DVD’s? What about that one Madagascar? I’ve heard that’s a good one.” Silence. “Would you like that? Better than