BlindFire (28 page)

  It was a full twenty minutes of crawling on his stomach before Gunter could get far enough away to stand up. The Colonel was waiting for him.

  "There's something very strange going on here." Gunter
s
aid. "They're not combat men of any description. I think we've been tricked."

  John stared at the distant undulating hillsides and then rolled his eyes skyward. "He's playing with us.... That Irish Bastard is playing with us."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Don't you see? He would never get up here even if he wanted to; for several reasons. Firstly that limp would kill him on this terrain..... And the girl! How would she cover this ground?"

  "So what about the
handover at the top of Sca Fell Pi
ke?"

  "An ambush, I should imagine. Those men back there..... Paid killers.
.! Just think! Who would hear the shots and our bodies could be buried and no one would ever find us.
"

  "Only we have the advantage now. They're on our turf, playing by our rules."

  Using the natural rolls on the hillside for cover they made their way back to the others. Beth had prepared some 'Boil in the bag' meals on Günter’s gas burner, which were readily eaten and followed by a shared mug of hot tea.

  After the Colonel gave fresh orders to the troopers of ‘G’ Squadron over the combat net radio, he briefed his own team on the new developments and their effect on the mission.

  "The words ‘wild goos
e chase’ spring to mind." Said Danny
after hearing the bad news.

    Beth took another sip of the tea. "So what happens now?"

  "We go up the hill and let them think they're ambushing us. My men will move in and take them alive where possible........"

  Gunter finished off the brief. "... We'll move out in five minutes passing as close to their camp as possible. We need them to see us, so make some noise."

  Danny
packed the black army mug back into his water bottle carrier. "Why can't we just go
over there now, introduce ourselves and kick the shit out of them
?" He asked.

  "We could be wrong; Jack may still be up here somewhere....... even with a limp and a young girl
, we can’t underestimate him
." The Colonel grabbed the strap on his webbing and swung it up on to his shoulders.

  This time they moved east towards the camp-site, then
swung right for the summit. Danny
whistled a tune, something he had heard the night before on the car radio. Whilst Beth and Gunter carried on a conversation that would have been absolute madness to any listener, the Colonel concentrated on the map. At least that's what any onlooker would have thought. The truth of the matter, he was speaking on the radio to a sniper who was already in position at the highest point on the mountain. The Colonel and his team had been spotted by the enemy, reported the Trooper, but they hadn't made any offensive moves yet.

  By 2200 hours it was dark, cold and everyone was fatigued, but at least they had reached the meeting point. Far beneath them
their pursuers
had holed up in a gully, unknown to them, still being watched by the SAS troopers through night sights.

  That first twenty minutes of wai
ting was the worst, as the muscl
es in the legs and back stiffened by the days walking tensed up. After that it was just a case of finding a comfortable position on the cold rock.

  "They should be making a move on us soon."
T
he Colonel
declared
as he glanced ruefully at his watch.

  Beth licked her dry, chapped lips. "What do you think they're going to try?" She asked, more to herself than anything.

  None of them could see any of the others in the piercing darkness and felt strangely alone, but each new the line between survival and death was a perilously thin one. If they didn't catch a bullet, freeze to death or fall off
England
’s highest mountain then they just might survive.

  Getting to his feet Gunter
quietly
cocked his MP5 and slung it across his chest, then switched on his red filtered torch so the others knew where he was
standing. "It's time..."

  "Remember what we discussed earlier..... Let my men take them alive."

  When the Colonel switched the radio back on, the static and interference seemed louder in the darkness. Then a whispering voice came from the handset.

  "Hello Loose Cannon this is Guardian One zero, over...."

  "Loose Cannon send, over."

  "Our friends have left their base camp and are closing on the final position, over."

  "Loose Cannon, Roger Out."

  Danny
took out his Spas and offered it to Beth; she declined and cocked her own weapon. She wanted to say something to her husband but couldn't find the right words.

***

    Two hundred meters across the slope
and
approachin
g from the east where four men. They were bedraggled by exhaustion,
fatigued
and
by the severe landscape. Promises of great wealth had drawn them  to this freezing cold death trap, all they had to do was kill the people they would meet at the top of this hill, and remove any paperwork from the bodies. It was a synch, or so the Irishman who was paying them had said.

  "Thompson." Cried the lead man.

  "What." Came a stubborn reply. Thompson was tired and cold, he wanted to go home. This was supposed to be easy but it was turning in to a nightmare. He didn't even know how
to
use the weapons that he was carrying.

  "Get up here, I need a ciggy."

  Thompson stumbled forward in the darkness and passed out cigarettes to those who wanted one. "Look man, it's getting too cold. I want to go home."

  The lead man, his name was Stringer, inhaled the smoke deep in to his lungs held it for a second and then let it out in huge smoke rings. "We go on. If we go back now the Irishman will kill us."

  "Not if we get him first."

  Stringer lent forward putting his hands on the rock formation beside Thompson’s head and blew smoke in his face. "We go on..."

  Too wearied to argue, he just pushed the older man away and sat down on a rock. "We don't even know who these people are, for God sakes."

  "Just businessmen." Laughed Stringer. "How difficult can this thing be?" Barely confident of direction, he set off again. The other three fell in behind and tried to keep up.

***

  Gunter, Beth and Danny
moved to take cover behind a circular wall like structure as they heard the noisy approach of the four men. The Colonel stood his ground and held the file containing the names of six anti cease-fire Irish leaders. He knew that even if he died here tonight on this
God
forsaken ground and Mckay got hold of the file; the Irishman would almost certainly assassinate the wrong men. Cementing the cease-fire in the annuls of history forever.

  "Over here." Shouted the Colonel as he saw the outline of a man climbing in to sight through the darkness.

  "I hope you've got what we want?" Said a voice. Which the Colonel noted was not Irish.

  "Where's the girl?"

  Stringer could now see the Colonel standing in the dull glow of a torch, and was surprised at his military style clothing and weapons. "What are you talking about? What girl?"

  "No girl.... No file. That's the deal."

  "Are you pulling my pisser, b
ig man? Just give me the
file."

  The Colonel took a step backwards past Günter’s hiding place. "I'm sorry, I can't do that." He tried to sound nervous. But almost laughed when he saw the
SAS troopers
rise out of the shadows and silently steal Stringers men from behind him
one by one
, dragging them down in to the darkness.

  
Stringer took a step forward and drew his pistol. "My men and I are professionals. We kill people for a living, it’s our job."

  "We?"  John looked around as if confused. "I don't see anyone else."

  "Thompson.... Take the file
from him. Then slit his
throat." Stringer smiled waiting for his man to go forward. His smile slowly faded as time went by. "Thompson...." Then he half turned looking over his shoulder. "Thompson...?"

  When he looked back at the Colonel there were now three more people by his side, all with their weapons pointing at him. He nervously stepped back. "What is this?"

  "Lay down your weapon." Gunter
demanded
. "... And move back."

  Stringer obliged and as he stepped back fell in to the waiting arms of Corporal David Lomax otherwise known as Guardian One Zero.  "Mind your step." He said politely and pushed Stringer upright.

  Stringer panicked and tried to pull away, then came to an abrupt halt as the other SAS men suddenly appeared, as if like ghosts out of the now rolling mist. "Going somewhere?" Said the one on the far left.

  "Who.... Who are you?"

  The Colonel moved two strides forward and came face t
o face with Stringer. "Colonel J
onathon Rothschild, Commanding Officer of 22 Special Air Service Regiment...... Who are you?"

  The blood seemed to drain from Stringers face as he squirmed under the cold stare of the Colonel. "I am.... “Suddenly his mouth was too dry to speak.
”I’
m.... Pete..... Pete Stringer."

  "Why are you here? And I want the truth."

  He couldn't think straight enough to make up any lies, so he told the truth. "We were paid to come up here and kill who ever we found."

  "And?" Added Gunter.

  "And take any paperwork from the bodies."

  Danny
stepped forward out of the darkness and pressed the muzzle of the Spas into Stringers mouth. "Where is my daughter?" He growled maliciously.

  Tears of panic welled in Stringers eyes. "I never saw any girl.... Honest."

  "Well, who sent you then?"

  "All I know is, he was Irish."

  Danny
snatched the muzzle out of Stringers mouth and struck him across the side of the head with it, k
nocking him sideways. "I want my daughter .... Where is she?
"

   "His name was Jack, that's all I know." Spat Stringer as blood flowed from a gaping wound and splashed onto the rocks near his feet.

  "Ok." Said the Colonel to Corporal Lomax. "Cuff these and get them out of here."

   Whilst the men from
Hereford
were frog marching their captives to the nearest Police station, the Colonel and his team pitched their gautex tents and slept until daybreak.

    It was the sound of sheep passing by on their way to greener pastures which first stirred the Colonel, and then the rancid smell of Günter’s festering damp socks and boots which finally drove him from the comforting warmth of his sleeping bag and tent.

  He dressed quickly and rolled his sleeping bag back into its cover. After waking the others he lit the gas burner and prepared breakfast, which consisted
of
a shared cup of black coffee. After thirty minutes the camp was clear and the team was headed back down the mountain.

  The thin rolling mist gathered in the low ground as the early morning sun cast shadows on the hillsides. The grass was wet which made it also very slippery, even Gunter the mountain goat had slipped tw
ice. The blisters on Danny’s
feet were getting to him now, as the pressure from constantly walking down hill on rough rocky terrain took its toll.

  It was eleven thirty before they reached the car and the absolute pleasure of walking on tarmac. This was the only time Beth indicated she had been in any pain; it was as she dumped her
Bergen
in the boot of the car and swore never to look at another mountain again.

  "We need to visit those idiots in gaol before we leave."
Said the Colonel as he removed his
Barbour jacket.

***

  Cpl David Lomax gazed out into the street from a second floor window of Ambleside Police Station. There seemed
to be a lot of hikers for this
cold time of year. He didn't know the full story of what was going on, but the Colonel was a man he would entrust with his life, infact he had been slightly disappointed with the competition the night before, he had been expecting trained killers or at least untrained killers. Instead he had marched through the night, if only to weaken their resolve and make questioning easier, with what seamed like a Plumber, two new age travelers and a  fat dreamer from Manchester who thought he was  Charles Bronson.