collapsed, Murdoch softens. ‘The thing is, Panzer, as we speak …’
‘Uh-huh?’
‘He’s in a car with two members of the nutting squad.’
‘No!’
‘And they’re taking him to a quiet spot on the border—’
‘No, Tiny! Not that!’
‘The Army Council has made its decision, Panzer. For what it’s worth, I voted against it.’
‘But you can change it, Tiny! You can stop it, can’t you?’
‘Panzer,’ Murdoch puts his hand on top of Panzer’s knee, ‘I wish I could. Like, I don’t forget: when the Libyan shipments came in, you pulled me out of a hole.’
Panzer joins his hands together, just like he would if he were praying. ‘I held a tonne of armaments and explosives for you, for four months, Tiny. Four months. When your back was to the wall and you needed help, I pulled you out.’
‘I know, I know.’ Murdoch puts his hand to his mouth, as if to throw a fire blanket over his words. ‘I shouldn’t have come up here. I knew it would be a mistake.’
‘Why?’
Murdoch exhales. ‘I’m sorry, Panzer.’ Murdoch looks forlorn. ‘I’m charged with paying you the courtesy of telling you that your son Finbarr is about to be shot dead. I don’t have to but I’m doing it because you helped the boys in the past.’
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