Nassiriya – Masgouf restaurantColonel Hudson was nervously pacing up and down the hallway in front of the main dining area of the restaurant. Virtually every minute, he checked the tactical watch he always wore on his left wrist. He didn’t even take this off to go to sleep. He was as excited as a teenager on a first date.
To help pass the time he had ordered a Martini on the rocks with a slice of lemon. The moustached barman watched him from beneath his thick eyebrows while lazily drying a set of long-stemmed glasses.
Alcohol was not permitted in Islamic countries. That evening, however, an exception had been made. The small restaurant had been completely reserved for the two of them.
As soon as he’d finished his conversation with Doctor Hunter the Colonel had contacted the owner, reque
