Prologue
PrologueIraq, February 2006
Steve Hunley needed to be credible as a mercenary-turned-warmonger.
He and his ‘henchmen’ arrived in two Land Rovers. The gleaming black exteriors of the vehicles were now stained a dusty brown after months in the desert wilderness of Iraq. The windscreen wipers had left twin arcing swathes in the tinted glass. Even as the dust cloud was settling, Hunley and his guys climbed out. Wraparound sunglasses shaded their eyes, preserved their vision under a brilliant sun.
To say it was hot was an understatement. Yet, for the act, Hunley slung his business jacket over his left shoulder. This was, after all, business. The mid-day sun glinted off the big shiny item slung under his left arm.
A Colt Marlin BFR – Big Frame Revolver. Big f*****g Revolver. A cano
