I sighed. ‘Okay, Doc. I joined up because. .’

Moriarty actually sat up.

‘Because?’ ‘Because the uniforms set off my eyes. Come on, Doc. Work for the money.’

Simon Moriarty blinked away the previous night’s party. ‘They flew you home early, McEvoy. Remind me why they did that?’

I shrugged. ‘I called in some gunship fire on my own position.’ The shrug was to make this seem like no big deal, but it was a big deal and my legs were shaking as I said it and my mind flicked back to the tracers criss-crossing the night sky like something out of Blade Runner or maybe Star Wars. Whichever one was in space.

‘That does sound like the action of a moron.’

He was baiting me, but that was okay, because we were both smiling a little now. ‘What was left of Amal decided to overrun the entire compound,’ I explained. ‘Old-school style. An honest-to-God battle; couple of them had swords. Everybody made it into the bunker except the watch. I had a radio so I called in a gunship.’

‘Was that a good decision?’

‘Not according to the manual. Lots of property damage but not as much as there might have been. Plus a general got to live.’

‘So they shipped you out?’

‘Cos I was shell-shocked.’

‘And were you?’

‘Absolutely. No bowel movements for three days.’

Moriarty hit me again. ‘So why did you join the army, Daniel?’

He was good. I wasn’t expecting the change of tack. I mean, that gunship thing is an interesting story. ‘Because I reckoned dying overseas was better than living at home.’

Moriarty punched the air. ‘One nil,’ he crowed.

Most nights after work at the casino I take a couple of Triazolam to nod myself off. I go for as long as I can trying to tune out Mrs Delano in the apartment above, but she grinds me down with her ranting, so I pop the pills just to shut her out for a few hours.