The Chronicles of the Mexican Horse Thief I - Angola

[Section Eight]

First Paragraphs:

Bilbo Baggins said something along the lines that one ought to be very careful when one steps out of ones door, as one never knows where one may end up. I stepped out of the proverbial door with the intention of getting horribly drunk at the local pub, which was conveniently with in walking distance. This I was doing when someone I had a nodding acquaintance with 10 years back in the army, walked into the pub. We were both not working, me by choice because I had just sold my house and inherited a nice sum of money. Trevor because he could not find work at that time.

Anyway, Trevor had heard that somewhere in Pretoria, a company was looking for men with operational experience, to train troops in some African country and they were paying very well, in Dollars! He had a contact name, Sgt. Pelsur, a company name, Executive Something, and a bloody telephone number that he was too scared to act on. Well, I’m not known to be a person that sits on my hands, so after a good few drinks off we went to my girlfriend’s house to make the call. All went well and an appointment was set up for the following day. This, by the way, was Monday. Lent Trevor some money for petrol and some booze, an we both tried to find our old army records.

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