direction he began, and then he started to turn again.
There was a sound in the bushes a few yards away and a fat little muntjak trotted out into the open, studied the strangers for a moment, then decided it wasn’t safe company and bolted away into the wood.
Stratton’s initial fascination with the sudden excitement evaporated and he put his hands into his pockets wondering if this was all one big pantomime.
‘Gabriel?’ Stratton said.
Gabriel raised a hand to silence Stratton who was breaking his concentration.
Stratton played along. A sign on the road indicated a picnic area back the way they had and come and Gabriel was now staring at it.
Stratton could feel his night vision slowly kicking in, the cones in his retinas taking over from the rods, but it had a way to go before he would be able to make out anything inside the blackness of the wood. The headlights of a car appeared in the distance.
Stratton looked over at Gabriel who was still in the road.
‘Gabriel? Car.’
Gabriel snapped out of his thoughts and looked over at the oncoming lights. He walked across the road then stepped a few yards off it towards the edge of the wood.
Stratton turned his back to the car and closed his eyes as it approached to preserve his night vision. He waited for a few seconds after it had passed before opening his eyes and looked over at Gabriel, but he had gone.
Stratton took his hands out of his pockets as he scanned around.
‘Gabriel,’ he called out, but there was no reply. Then came movement from the wood and Stratton crossed the road towards it.
‘Gabriel!’ he shouted again.
Gabriel was pushing his way through the slender, brittle pine branches that stuck out almost horizontally from the trunks, snatching glances up at the sky. He paused, looked around, then moved ahead in a different direction. He heard Stratton call his name but he was on the scent of something he did not want to lose and pressed on. Without a doubt, there was a familiarity about this place, a smell, the temperature, the light, the feel underfoot, as if Gabriel had been here before and quite recently, all the sensual memories still fresh.
Stratton entered the wood and paused to listen before readjusting his direction towards the movement. He was straining to look into the blackness as he walked forward, when his foot banged into something solid and he stopped to look down. He crouched to see it more clearly and found what appeared to be an old milestone. Then he heard a metallic clang some distance ahead followed by a crashing sound. As he moved quickly toward the sound, his senses began to tingle, a warning.
‘Gabriel,’ he called out against his better judgement. It was instinctive for him not to make more noise than he had to, especially when alone in the bush. Years of experience had ingrained in him the subconscious practice of reducing one’s target profile, by movement, shape, silhouette, or sound. But they were not in a battlefield right now.This was Thetford Forest, England.
There was no reply to his call and Stratton moved carefully forward.
Another few yards and he paused to listen. The sound of movement he had been following through the trees had ceased. Then suddenly he thought he could hear it again, but it was a distance away, fifty or eighty metres. He moved forward once more, his senses tuned to the maximum.
A few paces further on Stratton stopped again, this time holding his breath so that he could hear more clearly. He picked up one particular sound, unnatural to the wood, rhythmic, like strained breathing, and very close by, then the sound of movement, metres away, low on the ground. Stratton moved forward until he saw what looked like a log until one of the limbs moved. He inched closer and realised it was Gabriel.
Stratton dropped to his side. Gabriel let out a moan. Stratton flashed a look in all directions, tensing for any attack. He heard movement again, this time further away. There was rhythm to it: walking, and fast, which was why it was louder. Gabriel’s assailant was hurrying away. But the priority was Gabriel and Stratton crouched by his side and felt his head and face and then something wet which he assumed was blood.
‘Gabriel,’ Stratton said in a loud whisper. ‘It’s Stratton. You’re okay. You’re safe now . . . Can you hear me?’
Gabriel let out a moan and moved a shaking hand towards his head.
‘Everything’s okay,’ Stratton reassured him. ‘Keep still.’
Stratton felt along the back of Gabriel’s neck to see if there was any damage to the vertebrae, then his face and jaw, his nose and forehead. It all seemed intact and dry, except for the back of his skull, which appeared to be intact although starting to swell.
‘Gabriel? Give me some sign you can hear me.’
Stratton put a couple of fingers into Gabriel’s hand. ‘Squeeze my fingers if you can hear me,’ he said.
‘I can hear you,’ Gabriel said, weakly.
‘I’m going to sit you up,’ Stratton said as he turned Gabriel carefully over, then, supporting his back, raised him up.
‘Do you have pain anywhere else other than your head?’ Stratton asked.
‘I don’t think so . . . Someone hit me. Did you see who?’ Gabriel asked, his hand coming up to feel the back of his head.
‘No,’ Stratton said, pulling his hand away. ‘Don’t touch your head. Can you get to your feet?’
‘Yes,’ Gabriel said, but then took a moment to respond as he gathered himself, and Stratton pulled him up. Gabriel almost lost his balance but Stratton held on to him.
‘Take a step. I’ve got you.’
Gabriel took a wobbly step forward.
Stratton steered him through the wood and into the open.
They crossed the road and Stratton led him around to the front passenger side, opened the door and helped him in. Stratton climbed into the driver’s side and within a few seconds had started the car and was pulling a U-turn in the road.
‘Where are we going?’ Gabriel.
‘Mildenhall air base. They have a hospital there.’
‘No. Go back. We need to find him.’
‘He’s gone.’
‘We still need to go back.’
‘I’m getting you to a hospital.You’re in no condition to do anything.’
Gabriel leaned forward holding his head. Stratton glanced at him, wondering how badly he was hurt. RAF Barnham was nearby but Mildenhall was a US base and Gabriel was US government property on loan to the Brits.
Sumners was going to be pissed off about this. Stratton had been looking after Gabriel for just a few hours and he already had a dent in him.
This was really quite bizarre, Stratton thought.Was it possible the mysterious man Gabriel had been talking about had hit him, and had he really recognised a place at night just by looking through his assailant’s eyes? It was a lot to believe but there were no other explanations at the moment. The fact remained that Gabriel had talked about a dangerous, angry man in a wood near a US air base in England, and he found one.That could not be ignored, no matter how sceptical a mood Stratton was in.
‘Don’t lose consciousness,’ Stratton urged Gabriel. ‘Stay awake.’
Several rows of bright lights in the distance looked like airfield landing lights. He applied the brakes gently and took the next corner tightly where a sign indicated the air base entrance.
Up ahead was the main gate and several armed US soldiers wearing helmets. Stratton reached inside his pocket for his identification. With luck, it would be enough until he could find Gabriel’s ID.
Stratton decided to wait until Gabriel was in safe hands before calling Sumners. He had the feeling this was going to be a long and sleepless night.
