Spider Shepherd: SAS: #1 by Stephen Leather Page B

quite a lot and as a consequence, senior officers treat SAS senior NCO’s with great deference.  The downside is that, to keep things under their control, they will often try to use ordinary infantry to do tasks that are beyond their skill set, sometimes with disastrous consequences. Okay, we have twenty-four hours to prepare for the op,  make the most of it.’
    He walked away. ‘I’m hungry,’ said Liam almost immediately.
    ‘You’re always hungry,’ said Shepherd.
    ‘Hungry enough to eat one of those bugs?’ asked Jimbo.
    Liam pulled a face and Shepherd laughed.  ‘If you’re that hungry, ask that trainer for one of his tarantulas,’ Shepherd said. ‘They’re delicious apparently.’
    One of the “big time” trainers had a sideliner mounting tarantulas, rearing up as if they were attacking, on little wooden shields like hunting trophies. He caught them with an improvised net, made from an old mosquito net, and kept them in glass jars before injecting them with formalin - which both killed and preserved them - and then sold them to squaddies as souvenirs.
    ‘Are you off your head?’ Liam said, suppressing a shudder. ‘Nobody in their right minds would eat one of those things. They’re worse than the bugs.’
    ‘I would,’ Shepherd said. ‘If the money was right.’
    ‘A bet?’ said Liam.
    ‘If you think I won’t do it, put your money where your mouth is.’
    There was a moment’s stunned silence. ‘Go on then,’ Geordie said. ‘Twenty quid.’
    ‘I’ll match that,’ said Liam.
    ‘Bloody hell, yeah, I’d pay twenty quid to see that,’ said Geordie. He strode off towards the trainer’s basha and returned a few minutes later with a jar containing a live tarantula. ‘Cost m e￡ 50,’ he said. ‘But it’ll be money well spent, if you’ve got balls enough to eat it.’
    ‘I’ve got the balls,’ Shepherd said, ‘but I’m not doing it fo r￡ 60. Make i t￡ 150. Fifty quid each.’
    The three men agreed.
    Shepherd gave a slow smile. ‘All right, bring it on.’
    ‘Would you look at those fangs,’ said Liam, peering into the jar. ‘It’ll bite you before you can bite it.’
    ‘I doubt it.’ Shepherd opened the jar, tipped the spider onto the ground and hit it on the head with his rifle butt as it tried to scuttle away. ‘That’s the mercy killing done.’ He took a disposable lighter out of his pocket and blowtorched the spider with the flame.
    ‘You won’t cook it that way,’ Jimbo said.
    ‘I’m not trying to, I’m just singeing off the hairs, they’re an irritant.’
    ‘Bit like you,’ Geordie said. ‘Get on with it, will you?’
    Shepherd pretended to hesitate, then popped the spider in his mouth, letting the legs drape over his chin for a moment, before crunching it up in a couple of bites and swallowing it.
    ‘Bloody hell,’ Liam said, grimacing ‘Now I’ve seen everything.’
    Shepherd opened his mouth to show it was empty and gave a big smile. ‘Easiest hundred and fifty quid I ever made. Some of the local tribes eat them. I read about it before we came out here.’
    ‘You sly sod,’ Geordie said. ‘You set us up, didn’t you?’ He paused. ‘So what do they taste like?’
    ‘Chicken,’ Shepherd said reaching for his water bottle. He grinned. ‘To be honest, more like chicken shit.’
    Jimbo gave a slow smile. ‘I think we’ve found your nickname: “Spider”. What do we think guys?’
    Geordie and Liam nodded. ‘Spider it is,’ said Geordie.
    Shepherd insisted that the three handed over the money as Pilgrim returned with five ration packs which he distributed before they sat down and began their first “Chinese Parliament”, throwing ideas and suggestions for the patrol into the mix, which were then argued over, disputed, and accepted or rejected. Pilgrim controlled the discussion and had the final say, but he was careful to let everyone have their input.
    Shepherd, Geordie and Jimbo had been in the Paras, where a limited amount of