Geordie Skelton slid down the side of the wadi to get one of the Minimis, and then moved back up the bank, looking for a good stag position. He found one among a collection of boulders just below its crest: from there he could hunker down out of sight, but with a decent view up and down the dried-up bed, and out into the desert in all directions.

He keyed the pressel on his radio.

‘John,’ he said. ‘In position. Radio check.’

‘Strength five,’ said Carr.

‘Likewise. Out.’

Geordie got comfortable, and began watching and listening.

Back down below, Kev and Fred quickly refuelled the vehicles, and then cleared areas for their roll mats and lightweight maggots.

Exhausted, they each wolfed down some unheated food and water, and then lay down, webbing for pillows, Diemacos by their sides. In a matter of minutes, both men were asleep.

A few metres away, Carr had set up the VSAT dish, and had sent a brief SITREP with their present location, confirming that their LUP was secure, and that the likelihood of compromise was low.

Then he pulled out his stove and mess tin and set about boiling water for a cup of tea and something to eat.

Fifty minutes later, he relieved Geordie Skelton on stag.

The sun was just starting to light up the eastern sky, and the desert was cool and empty.

Carr settled down, scope to his eye, and began sweeping the horizon.

Chapter 86.

86.

THE FOLLOWING DAY passed slowly.

Dawn came and went, and the sun rose high overhead, the temperature soaring into the late thirties.

For a long time, the four men’s sheer exhaustion defeated the punishing heat, and they alternately slept and watched, and slept and watched.

But by the back end of the afternoon, even those who were supposed to be sleeping were just lying in what shade there was, resting up.

Carr had been in similar positions many times during his years in the Regiment, and he wasn’t fazed.

There was no threat of discovery from the air – it was surprisingly hard to locate vehicles in the desert from aircraft even when you were actually looking for them, and nobody was – and they were invisible on the ground, unless someone drove into the wadi and turned into the re-entrant.

That was so unlikely it was like winning the world’s biggest shit lottery, and if it happened they would deal with it.

The main enemy they faced, actually, was themselves. If you weren’t careful, an LUP could start to feel like a little safe zone, where the world outside did not exist; over long periods, he’d seen men get too relaxed, and too comfortable, and start arguing and bickering over fuck all as the boredom got to them.