Read Online Going Grey by Karen Traviss - Free Book Online

grabbed some images of the vehicle and the positions of the bodies as if it was just a routine accident that he was going to report to his insurer. By the time the army vehicle arrived, traffic had started again and a small jam had built up. Less patient or curious drivers just drove off the tarmac and skirted the obstruction. A Nazani Defence Force lieutenant poked around in the debris, slung the bodies on the back of their truck, and took Mike's and Rob's details before driving off. He didn't seem all that bothered. It definitely wasn't like a car wreck in Maine.
    Mike drove back to the security compound next to the airport while Rob gazed out of the window, apparently content to be a passenger for once.
    "Hoofing," he said absently. There was only one higher rank of approval on his Richter scale of excellence, and that was fucking hoofing. "I'm glad we disabled the airbags on this bugger."
    They dissolved into nervous, shaky laughter. "I must have hit at least one of them," Mike said. "I put down enough fire."
    "Either way, it bought a second or two, and that's all you need, isn't it? Shit, that was satisfying. I've never rammed a vehicle for real. Just on the CP course." Rob patted Mike's arm. "Sorry, mate. I could have got you killed."
    "What were we going to do, take a vote?"
    "You okay?"
    Mike tilted his neck left then right to try to ease the pulled muscles. "My neck's screwed. I hope Livvie doesn't notice. If I don't do a video call, she'll know something's happened."
    "Just tell her I beat you at arm wrestling."
    The security compound housed contractors from other PSCs as well as Esselby, and word of the contact had already gotten around by the time they arrived. They were greeted with good-natured barracking from a few Brits standing outside the admin office.
    "Bloody women drivers."
    "There goes your no-claims, Ulcers."
    Rob gave them a big grin and waved two fingers as he went in. They must have been former Marines; Ulcers was his old Royal Marines nickname, a play on the Rennie heartburn remedy, but Mike rarely heard anyone use it. Rob's callsign was just Royal. Any other former RM on the local radio net who wanted to use the generic nickname was out of luck.
    "Is there anything you can't damage, Rob?" The site supervisor took the key to the Suburban and gave Rob a weary look, along with a sheaf of post-contact and damage report forms. "Go on, go see the medic. You as well, Mike. I don't want you two suing us for whiplash. You can't afford the lawyers anyway."
    Rob just winked at Mike and took the forms. "Yes, Supe. Can we roster off, then?"
    "Away with you," the supervisor said. "Good result, guys."
    The supervisor didn't know anything about Mike's family. Few people he worked with ever did. He kept his connections quiet, and Rob, protective as a big brother, maintained the cover of ordinary guy-ness. For the first time since childhood, Mike had a really close buddy, the kind who gave him a nickname, ribbed him fondly in that way British troops called slagging , and always had his back. Rob treated him like a fellow grunt who just happened to have a few more bucks to his name. It was enormously liberating.
    And we're a team. We stopped a massacre today. We did good.
    At least Livvie wouldn't see it on the news. There was a plus side to being invisible.
    Mike submitted to the medic and emerged with a packet of painkillers. He found Rob in the social club, a grim-looking demountable unit next to the canteen. Rob took a more home -remedy approach to analgesics. The joint security compound was officially dry, but that never seemed to stop him or anyone else from drinking liquor. He nursed what looked like a cup of coffee while he slumped in an armchair in the TV room, looking a little lost. A Thermos jug sat on the table in front of him.
    "Is that decaf?" Mike asked.
    Rob held a cup out to him to taste. "Dave's special blend."
    Mike sipped it cautiously. It tasted like a half and half mix of brandy. "You know you