like it hadn’t been opened in years.
‘Jason.’ His voice echoed around him.
Jason lay slumped, staring at the flames and wondering what they were going to do next. He looked around to see that Stratton had gone and his voice was coming from far away. The scientist lifted his bent body and made his way into the darkness.
When he saw the red glow he speeded up, his hopes lifting at a vague possibility. A solution to their dilemma. When he reached the cavern he stood alongside Stratton and stared in amazement at the light. He could see no handles on the door. However, a line of sturdy hinges down one side indicated that it could open, in theory at least.
‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ Jason asked.
‘The laboratory.’
‘Is it possible?’
‘The helicopter could easily have covered the distance.’
‘Do we
‘It’s some kind of secure emergency exit. Unless the Russians have other underground installations in the area, I’d put money on this being the lab mine.’
‘Why put an emergency exit into a tunnel like this?’
‘The place was a chemical and biological warfare lab. Anywhere would be better than inside if there was an accident. Maybe there’s a way from here to the surface.’
‘Or perhaps it’s another way of getting back into the lab if they had to.’
‘Whatever it is, I would like to know what’s on the other side of it . . . more so in a couple of hours from now when we could be freezing to death.’
Jason climbed the wall a few feet in order to inspect the box that the light was attached to. He pulled a side of the ageing box open to look inside. ‘It’s a sensor,’ Jason decided. ‘My guess is it’s a trigger. To warn if it’s opened.’
It made sense to Stratton. But it wasn’t much of a solution even if it was the lab. The occupants wouldn’t exactly welcome them with open arms. That was assuming they could get inside at all.
Jason pushed his fingers inside the gap as if feeling for something inside. There was a spark and he yelped in shock, snatching back his hand and jumping into the water.
The light began to blink on and off in a regular rhythm. Silence fell as the men stood in the glow of the flashing light, the water up to their knees. They looked at each other.
Jason shrugged apologetically. ‘I think I tripped something.’
The obvious question was: stay, or get out of there? Take the opportunity, or not? If they couldn’t get out of the tunnel any other way they would die, and none too pleasantly either. Getting recaptured might not be a whole lot better but it could mean that their demise would be a whole lot later. And time allowed for opportunities.
Yet as they stood there the minutes ticked away. Nothing happened.They waited. And waited. Hoping someone would come to the door and investigate. But this was Russia, of course. And they were miles from nowhere and the Cold War was over. No one was going to come.
Then, as if to prove it, the light stopped flashing and went back to glowing normally.
Stratton could no longer feel his feet. He estimated hypothermia would set in within twenty minutes or so. They would experience a surge of energy, perhaps even a sense of invulnerability, and then fatigue would set in. Their legs would give out and they would kneel in the water. That would speed things up but by then they would be delirious. They would die soon after. Their bodies might not be found for years, if ever. Their bones would rest beneath the water. With no identity on them they would be a couple of unexplained skeletons. It would remain a mystery to London too, another Buster Crabb story.
‘Would they send someone else, do you think?’ Jason asked. He wasn’t particularly interested in events that might occur after his death but a conversation might ease the pain of the cold a little.
Stratton didn’t care.
They remained silent for another minute, hoping to hear a sound from the other side of the door. But still no one came. It was so quiet that each man could hear his own heart beating in his chest.
‘I used to be afraid of the dark when I was a child,’ Jason said. ‘Were you?’
‘No. I always knew what was out there.’
Jason looked at the operative bathed in the red glow from above. ‘I’ll be honest about something. Not because this may be the only opportunity to say it. Do you know why MI16 was going to take over certain operations that your lot and the SAS consider their own?’
‘No.’ It was something else Stratton didn’t care much about.
‘We’re smarter than you, by a long way. We’re more accomplished athletes. I’d wager we’re probably all better shots than you.’
‘You think that’s all it takes?’
‘You have military experience, I grant you that, but we’re not talking about those kinds of operations. Take this one, for instance. All of it, from the beginning. None of it was a success. Your skills have only led to failure at every turn. You practically sank the platform with your arrival. Binning escaped with the tile. And we’re probably going to die in this tunnel, leaving the rest of the operation a failure.’
‘You would have done it differently?’
‘I would have reacted differently, sure - more intelligently, less like a bull in a china shop. Rowena was right. All you’ve ever been in your career is lucky. And it looks like that luck has finally run out.’
Stratton absorbed the insults. He even appreciated the conversation. It took his mind off the discomfort. Jason Mansfield might even have a point, he thought. He was right about the results. ‘It’s moot now.’
‘I don’t agree. Yes, this situation has put MI16’s plans back but the fundamental reasons why it’s necessary remain. My place will be taken and it will eventually happen.’
‘Jason, I was going to say this to you anyway. You’re a wanker. It’s not so much what you say, it’s the way you say it.’
Jason’s eyes narrowed. ‘I have an idea,’ he said, moving through the water to the middle of the cavern. ‘Maybe we should fight it out, here and now. See who’s the best. It’d keep us warm for a bit, at least. What do you say?’
Stratton simply looked at him in the glow of the light.
Jason moved closer to Stratton, shrugging his arms and turning his neck as if loosening up for a fight. ‘Come on. Let’s do it. To the death. Neither of us has anything to lose. None of your colleagues will know you were beaten by a mere scientist. Come on.’
Jason adopted a fighting stance and moved within range of Stratton. The operative remained still.
‘Take a punch. Or are you a counter man? Is that it?’
Jason jabbed at Stratton who moved enough to avoid the strike that was only intended as a probe anyway. Jason followed it up with another blow that struck Stratton on the shoulder. The scientist’s next punch was far stronger and hit Stratton hard in the chest. Stratton lunged at him, taking only a step, his heart not in it.
Jason kept his side-to-side stepping routine going, sloshing around in the water. ‘That’s it. Come on. Now hit me.’
Stratton was growing more irritated than angry but still not enough to be drawn in.
Jason dummied with one hand and struck Stratton in the face with the other, hard enough to send his head back. Stratton’s mounting anger went up a couple of notches.
Jason danced left and right. ‘You’re going down if you don’t defend yourself,’ he warned. ‘I sincerely plan on killing you. It’s something I often contemplated, ever since I began karate. What would it be like to kill someone using my bare hands? What better subject than you?’
Jason came in for another series of punches and outmanoeuvred Stratton’s unskilled defences, striking him with several hard blows. Stratton lunged forward again but Jason surprised him with a vicious kick to his ribs.
Stratton dropped to one knee in pain and glared at Jason. The scientist was grinning at him but did not waste any more time gloating. He came in with a low blow. Stratton moved back with it and grabbed the clenched fist, at the same time back-handing Jason across the mouth so viciously that it sent him back.
Jason stopped to feel the cut that had opened up on his lip. He felt the blood with the back of his hand and
