was believed to detract from the driver experience during finding the outer limits of it handling. Tailing tank convoys had not been taken into its design remit.
Surveying the destruction of a recent air strike, its twisted metal and charred bodies, Jerry felt no emotion at all. He turned to smile at the young blonde known only as " Mitzi ". Mitzi wore a black combat out fit with matching matt black grenades, a matt black Uzi machine pistol and a colorful T-Shirt Jerry couldn't understand.
Propaganda leaflets littered the kill zone. Guilty confessions thought Jerry to himself. A strong or moral mind set was never an advantage or an asset in a war like this one. Policy was best made on the hoof, and this was his particular idiom. Mitzi however was impulsive, but impulsive to what ever Jerry thought. At least that made her a predictable asset, but he would never let her know that ! In her mind she was wild and free as Jerry, and Jerry loved her for that.
Turning off his 10 miles to the gallon V12 engine he grabbed his Kaki army edition binoculars from her. In the distance a hoard of Toyota's were advancing baring their home mounted anti-aircraft guns. Amongst the throng the various democracy flags billowed in the fresh Spring wind seeming to offer a moral high ground, or the colors of hope for a new future. Would Mitzi understand if he called in an air strike now ? Love and war, no room for logic today. Mitzi fiddled with her modified fire arm seemingly sensing Jerry's Dilemma. She decided to keep her innocence intact and played dumb. A lair of dust now covered the wind shield further isolating her from the advancing rebels.
The first artillery shells were being fired from the head of the Government convoy he was following. Jerry let the situation find its own out come, besides he wouldn't risk alienating Mitzi, even if a countries course was at risk. After so long he knew what kept him awake at night and it wasn't the rough and tumble of war.
Mitzi eventually broke down as she grasped Jerry's hand. He held her tight. Dark tears stained her china white cheeks as the desert rain began its slow descent. The hard amour of her mercenary sheikh image suddenly disintegrated cruelly exposing a young girls naive out look. When she wasn't screaming in a hail of bullets Mitzi could be described as sensitive. Jerry tried to suppress the thought that " birds of a feather flock together ", but it was no use. Eventually the word seemed to say " Jerry and Mitzi whatever the weather ! " He blushed but Mitzi was miles away. Her tear filled eyes blurring the battle field view through a rain dappled wind screen.
Crunching into a synchromesh less first gear he executed a violent U-turn. A large dust cloud drifted across the warring masses. Despite his inputs and strategic advice the Government troops seemed to be loosing their considerable advantage. They would have to do the donkey work themselves. How hard could it be ? Heavy armored machinery against ideal laden hearts ? Steel versus flesh. History versus expectation was a tough out come to call. Political view points bothered him little as time always found him on the " wrong " side. Time to head for the border...
Mitzi slouched low in her seat, her head on Jerrys lap. She closed her doll like eyes. Jerry's body tensed. His arms locked on to the steering wheel. How long could this situation carry on ? Year on year this pseudo relationship that entailed life on the edge as a catalyst rather than conventional lust was beginning to take its toll. His heart pounded and his body trembled. A hint of perspiration betrayed his true emotions. So it would be love to the end he thought as he mentally answered his own question.
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