on earth did they manage that?"
"Well, they've definitely got more direct links than us. They don't miss much."
"And what do they expect us to do?"
"I don't know. It just says here that we must go and free him."
"Dressed like this? I don't think that's a good idea at all."
The tall, thin guy pulled a chair out from under the table, spun it around ninety degrees and then, uttering a series of intermittent groans, slumped on it. "This is all we needed!"
He rested an elbow on the polished surface and looked absently out of the window in front of him. He noticed the windows were decidedly grimy and the one on the right had a crack in it running almost its entire length.
Suddenly, he raised his eyes towards his companion, and with a sardonic little grin said, "I've just had an idea."
"I knew it, I know that look."
"Go and fetch the first aid kit and let me have a look at that bump you've got on your head."
"To tell the truth I'm more worried about my wrist. I wonder if it's broken."
"Don't worry, I'll fix it for you. I wanted to be a vet when I was a boy."
After a little more than an hour and massive doses of painkillers and various ointments smeared everywhere, the two cronies were almost as good as new again.
After looking at himself in the mirror hanging on the wall next to the entrance door, the thin guy said with a grin, "Now we can get going," and slipped into the bedroom. He emerged shortly afterwards holding two well pressed American military uniforms.
"Where did you get those?" asked the fat guy in amazement.
"They're part of the emergency kit I brought with me. You never know."
"You're completely crazy," said the big guy, shaking his head slightly. "And what are we supposed to do?"
âHere's the plan," said the thin guy, with a satisfied air, throwing his companion an XXL. "You'll be General Richard Wright, head of a top-secret government agency that nobody knows about."
"Obviously, if it's top-secret. And you?"
"I'll be your right-hand man. Colonel Oliver Morris, at your service, sir."
"So, I'm your superior. I like this."
"Don't get used to it though, okay?" said the thin man raising his forefinger. "And these are our papers with our identity badges."
"Heck! They look real."
"And that's not all, old chap," and he showed him a sheet of letterhead signed directly by Colonel Jack Hudson. "This is the official prisoner handover request for transfer to a 'safer place'."
"But where the devil did you get that?"
"I printed it out earlier while you were in the shower. Did you think you were the only computer wizard?"
"I'm astounded. It's even better than the original."
"We'll get into the military base and let them hand over the General. If they should object, we could always tell them to call Colonel Hudson directly. I don't think mobiles work in space," and at that they both roared with laughter.
About an hour later, when the sun had dropped behind a high sand dune, a military Jeep, carrying a Colonel and a General in full dress uniform, stopped at the entrance barrier of the Imam Ali air base or Camp Adder as the Americans had renamed it during the Iraq war. Two servicemen, armed to the teeth, came out of the armoured sentry box, and moved quickly towards the vehicle. Two others, at a distance, kept their sights on the passengers.
"Good evening Colonel," said the nearest soldier, giving a smart military salute. "May I see yours and the Generalâs documents, please?"
The tall, thin Colonel who was sitting in the driverâs seat, said nothing. He took a yellow envelope from the inner pocket of his jacket and handed it to him. The serviceman spent quite some time reading and shone his torch in both their faces a couple of times. The General distinctly felt the drop of sweat which, starting from just under the bump on his forehead, began to slowly trickle down his nose, to then drop onto the third button of his jacket, which was being unbelievably strained by the mighty thrust of the enormous stomach underneath.
"Colonel Morris and General White," said the serviceman, again pointing the torch in the Colonelâs face.
"Wright, General Wright!â answered the skinny Colonel in a decidedly annoyed tone of voice. "What's the matter Sergeant, canât you read?"
The Sergeant, who had pronounced the Generalâs surname incorrectly on purpose, smiled slightly and said, "Iâll get someone to accompany you. Follow those men," and with a nod ordered the two servicemen to lead them to the prison.
The Colonel slowly started the Jeep. He hadnât gone barely a dozen metres when he heard a shout behind him, "Stop, Sir!"
The blood froze in the veins of the vehicleâs two occupants. They remained motionless for a few very long moments, until the voice continued saying âYouâve forgotten your documents."
The corpulent General drew such a large sigh of relief that all the buttons on his uniform risked popping.
âThank you, Sergeant," said the thin man holding out his hand towards the soldier. âI'm getting old faster than I thought."
They set off again in the jeep and followed the two soldiers who, proceeding apace, quickly led them to the entrance of a low and decidedly shabby building. The youngest soldier knocked on the large door and went in without waiting for an answer. Shortly afterwards, a large, completely bald, coloured man, with the stripes of a sergeant and the face of a tough guy, appeared on the threshold and stood to attention. He saluted and said, "General, Colonel. Please come in.â
The two officers saluted in response and, trying to ignore the various pains that were starting to reappear, entered the large room.
âSergeant" said the thin guy with determination. âWe have a written order here from Colonel Hudson authorising us to pick up General Campbell," and he handed him the yellow envelope.
The large sergeant opened it and took his time reading the contents. Then, fixing his dark, penetrating eyes on the Colonelâs, he sentenced, "Iâll have to check."
âGo ahead,â replied the officer calmly.
The large coloured man drew another sheet of paper out of a drawer in the desk and carefully compared it with the one in his hand. He looked at the Colonel again and, without showing any emotion, added, "The signature is the same. Do you mind if I call him?"
âItâs your duty. But letâs try and be quick, please. Weâve already wasted too much time," replied the skinny Colonel, pretending to be about to lose his patience.
By no means frightened, the sergeant slowly put a hand into the pocket of his uniform and drew out his mobile phone. He dialled a number and waited.
The
