Prologue
Prologue
Asia – North Bundhara border
The young British UN soldier watched an unidentified truck rumble along the broken pot holed track they called No Man’s land.A suicide mission? The question rattled loud and fierce in his mind.He stepped out onto the road amidst the steady stream of refugees making their weary way to the precarious safety of North Bundhara. Part of his job was to assist their evacuation, the other to protect them with force if needed.The truck was swerving, scattering the rag tag band of people in its way to either side.The soldier aimed his standard issue SA80 rifle.He felt a strange cocktail mix of fear and excitement swirl noisily inside his stomach. At last he was about to see some action.
The truck stopped dead in front of him but was still some distance away.He shouted at the frightened people to take cover and move away.Shrieks and wails of fear echoed all around him dispelling the quiet of the surrounding forest.Small, tattered clothed children were lifted from carts leaving bewildered horses wondering where their human loads had disappeared to.Everyone scuttled down the banks of the road to take cover.The soldier glanced to his side noticing that a North Bundenese soldier was now standing near, providing support.
The doors of the truck opened and two men got out.He couldn’t make their faces out in the dimming light.The South Bundenese didn’t take too kindly to people deserting their country for their decadent immoral neighbour.This could have been one of those army missions to round refugees up and execute them for treason.He shouted halt but his command was ignored.
The soldier felt his palms begin to sweat as the figures moved around to the back of the truck.He stretched his fingers along his rifle feeling them begin to tighten with tension.He repeated his command, this time with the intention to shoot if they did not obey him but his threat appeared idle.He knew that he had to make a decision.
It was so damn hot.He could smell the heat all over his wet body under his fatigues.Fixing his fingers more firmly on the rifle he took a couple of steps forward repeating his threat once more.He had to play it cool, firing was the last option.They were his orders.A trickle of moisture ran under his helmet, down his neck and onto his chest.It irritated his skin making him desperate to rub it away.The two men lifted something heavy out of the back of the truck and brought it around to the front.’Make your mind up, make a decision.Shoot to kill or be killed.But what if I am wrong?What if it is the wrong call?’ he muttered to himself under his breath.
The soldier’s finger jumped on the trigger as they carried the bag between them and threw it on the ground not far from him.Only the realisation that it was a body bag stopped him firing.He guessed it was the same for the North Bundenese soldier who stood at his side.He tried asking them about the bag, but there was no reply.One of the men returned to the truck and brought out a round object in another bag.It was the shape of a football.The soldier’s heart started to thud inside his chest louder than it had ever done.He had a bad feeling about this object.
His gut twisted painfully.His finger jumped once more on the rifle as the man took the object out of the bag and rolled it along the ground towards him.He froze.As it tapped against the toe of his boot he closed his eyes waiting for the anticipated explosion.It had to be a bomb.He hadn’t expected his new career to end so abruptly and so soon.He looked down deciding to face his fate and found his football bomb was a bloody, jagged, decapitated head here…
