2am

 

2am Canberra, Australia

In another city, years ago I met a mercenary in the middle of the night. I don’t remember who parked first for us to be side by side. We got talking because we were both in convertibles. I was taller in my jeep, beside his Ferrari.

Why were we both wide awake at 2am in an empty carpark? 

We both liked to see a city at rest. 

We were so close I could see his crooked teeth. Not all of them, but enough that would leave a distinctive bite once he latched on. Nevertheless, when he suggested we go try the hairpin turns in his car, I hopped in with the stranger. 

He had worked mainly on the African continent, in places in the south all the way up to the Mediterranean Sea.

Much like any endeavour of scale, it’d best done with the like-minded. I could see the attraction – it’s fast, organised, not a lot of banal chit chat and pays very well for those with a very particular set of skills.

Get in, get out. Choose your own living hell.

I saw him for the second time a few years ago, via a news bulletin of a major conflict in Europe. I recognised him by his teeth. 

He looked fit in a war zone, encased in weaponry and camouflage gear with ambiguous logos. He will never run out of places to go.

Siv Parker

House of Abundant Peace

2026