Doctor Who_ The King of Terror - Keith Topping [33]
‘You bastard,’ shouted Barrington. ‘You had it first in Berlin.’
‘RHIP matey,’ replied Paynter, popping his head back through the door and throwing his underpants at Barrington. ‘See if you can find any clean towels.’
∗ ∗ ∗
63
‘I used to be stationed at Strategic Operations Defence in Geneva,’ said Paynter as they finished the wine with a breakfast of toasted bagels and peanut butter.
‘Brilliant acronym, I always thought,’ noted Barrington.
Paynter give a noncommittal grunt. ‘You know what a notice to attend a conference was called?’
‘Yes, the SODN. I went to one in 1993. Terribly dull.’
‘I was on reception. I had to ask all these captains and majors if they had their SODN papers,’ continued Paynter.
Barrington hadn’t heard this one before. ‘To which they replied . . . ?’ he asked.
‘Usually, “Yes, I soddin’ have!” True story.’
‘My first overseas posting was in the Icelandic HQ. That was fun.’ Barrington fixed his gun holster under his left shoulder, and made a series of rapid practice draws in front of the mirror before putting on his lightweight jacket.
‘Much to do in Reykjavik on a Friday night?’ asked Paynter.
‘Not a lot. Counting icebergs was quite popular with the chaps . . . ’
Paynter went for the jugular. ‘And you accuse me of being stereotypical?!’
‘You’re just challenged.’
‘Trainspotter!’ replied Paynter.
‘Headbanger!’
‘Jacqueline Maguire was right about you, you know. You want to get a life,’
said Paynter wickedly. ‘Especially after she biffed you in the kisser in Sydney when you said how well stacked she was.’
‘Lieutenant Maguire is a highly competent soldier,’ said Barrington. ‘And a very intelligent, witty and charming young woman.’
‘And a lesbian,’ continued Paynter with a snigger.
‘As it happens,’ noted Barrington, somewhat embarrassed. ‘Yes, you are correct in your assumption about her orientation. Come on Geoff, you should be beyond homophobic crap like that. It’s not the 1970s anymore. And Johnny Benton doesn’t run the show around HQ. We do.’
‘Fair point,’ noted Paynter. ‘I mean, don’t get me wrong . . . I like feminists, really I do. I consider myself one, actually. It’s just when they start forming their own football teams to get into the Premier League that I lose interest.
I mean, they’ve got effing Tottenham Hotspur already, what more do they want?!’
Barrington began to laugh but stopped when Paynter sank the knife in further.
‘I thought it was ironic that you, of all people, tried it on with Jackie. It was so funny!’
‘Shut your gob!’
‘Excuse me?’ asked Paynter.
64
‘My apologies. Shut your gob, sir!’
‘Better,’ noted Paynter, spitting the remains of his wine into the kitchen sink.
‘You can drive. I want to do some sightseeing!’
Southern California in July is dominated by a single colour. Brown. The vegetation is brown. The grass is brown. The sky, after a couple of hours of traffic fumes being belched into it, is brown.
They drove down the Pacific Highway and along Mulholland Drive, into the hills high above Bel Air in a UNIT-rented Chevy with the top down and a tape of the Sex Pistols blasting. The air was hot as the sun rose in the early morning sky, but it hadn’t quite reached the brown stage yet when the two UNIT men produced pairs of identical Ray-Bans.
‘We used to listen to this out in the desert,’ said Paynter as they climbed a steep stretch of twisting road.
‘When was that?’
‘1981. I spent six weeks in the Kalahari with a special forces unit on a bug-hunt.’
‘I never knew that,’ said Barrington. He was learning a lot of surprising new facts about his friend today.
‘You’ve heard about the Official Secrets Act. I take it?’ asked Paynter.
‘What was the target?’
Paynter was silent for a moment, trying hard to remember. ‘Zygons, I think.
There were a few hundred of them left over from the invasion. We went in with an artillery battalion but they’d gone to ground. We spent days tracking them. Picking