White Shoes, White Lines and Blackie by Robert G. Barrett

Author:Robert G. Barrett
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781743549056
Publisher: Pan Macmillan Australia

With Les’s help again, Murray got the Bofors onto his right shoulder with the front of the launcher resting on the roof of the Land Rover. He looked through the sights up into the stars and flipped open the firing button near the thumb joy-stick. The weapon was now armed and in full launch mode.

‘Which way are you going to aim, for Christ sakes, Muzz?’

‘Straight up.’

‘What if the thing don’t go off and comes back down?’

‘Shit! That’s a thought.’ Murray took his eye from the sight and seemed to take a bearing from the river. ‘Okay. Give us a hand to move it round the other side of the car. I’ll aim it towards those cunts out in Chinchilla.’

‘Yeah, good idea, Muzz,’ said Les, helping to move the Bofors to its new position. ‘I never liked those bastards. Remember when they beat us in the grand final?’

‘Remember it. The bludgers. They didn’t only beat us. They flogged us as well. I could hardly walk for a week.’

‘Tell me about it,’ agreed Les. ‘I had to take three days off from work myself. It was only because Big Harry Proudfoot trod on a rusty nail two days before and couldn’t play. And Jimmy Monshall got sent off.’

‘Yeah,’ said Murray, getting his face back behind the sights. ‘Didn’t we miss them.’

‘And those bastards knew it too. Yeah, go on, Muzz. Aim the fuckin’ thing towards Chinchilla. Liven those Kooris up, too.’

Murray placed his hand back on the thumb joy-stick and screwed his eye further into the sights. ‘Well, twinkle twinkle little star. How I wonder where you are. I think I’ll just pick the closest one. That one looks all right.’ Murray gave a bit of a sardonic chuckle. ‘I hope Dick Smith’s not flying around in his helicopter tonight. Not at ten thousand metres over Chinchilla, anyway. Righto Les. Stand back, son. Here we go.’

Les didn’t have to be told twice. Leaving Murray holding the Bofors Ray Rider up against the Land Rover, Les got back about five metres from where the blast would come from the rear of the launcher and waited; for what, he didn’t quite know. One thing Les did know, here was his brother, a Queensland hillbilly living out in the middle of nowhere, who could work out computers and guidance systems. Les had been living in the city all those years and was flat out programming a VCR. He didn’t have long to wait.

The Bofors seemed to quiver for a second, then a red glow came from out the back, followed by a roaring swoosh, something like the sound of a kid’s skyrocket, only about a hundred times louder. A cloud of dust, leaves and high octane smoke swirled round the Land Rover as the nuclear missile launched itself in a blinding red and white glow that screamed up into the night sky, leaving a thick, smoky vapour trail disappearing towards the stars.

Murray let go of the Bofors, stepped back and joined his brother staring up into the night, trying to pick a tiny red pin-point of light amongst the billions of stars.

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