‘Locked?’ Jason shouted.
‘But she’s—’ the officer stammered.
‘If you say she’s just a bloody woman I’ll shoot you,’ Jason growled as he walked towards him. ‘Get your men down here and search the place. Do it. Now.’
‘They’re on their way.’
‘You find him and you kill him. Immediately. No questions. Just shoot. I warned you about him.’
The officer understood. ‘And what about her?’
Jason glanced at Binning though he had already decided what had to be done.
‘She can’t go back with you now,’ Binning said.
Jason looked at the Russian. ‘Kill her.’
‘I’ll have to get authority.’
Jason’s expression darkened and he put his face closer to the major’s. ‘If they get out of here, I promise you, you will die.’
The Russian officer swallowed hard and ran from the room.
‘Idiots.’
‘I don’t like the thought of that man running loose around here,’ Binning said.
Jason’s expression changed to one of cynicism. ‘You’ve had nothing but contempt for him up until now.’
‘I’ve never underestimated how dangerous he could be.’
Jason had to agree. He took a pistol from a holster hanging on a hook. ‘Then we’d better ensure he doesn’t do any more damage. We’ve beaten him before. Let’s do it for the last time.’
Stratton lowered the last oxygen cylinder into position beneath the biochemical vat on top of the pipe and took a breather as he watched Rowena tape up the pipe connection. She found some wire wool, taped it around the opposite end of the pipe and walked back to the gas bottle that would be used to feed the lance. He saw her secure the pipe over the valve nozzle, using up the rest of the tape and wrapping it around continuously to ensure a good seal.
As a final test she turned the gas bottle’s valve fully open. The hissing gush of high-pressure gas filled the room. The taped joints held and she turned off the valve. ‘It doesn’t matter if there’s some leakage,’ she said, studying the simple but deadly system. ‘There’s enough pressure. It’s ready.’
‘How do we light the wire wool?’
‘The Russians’ll have a lighter. They stink of cigarette smoke even in their suits.’
Stratton walked over to the two men, dug into one of their breast pockets and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
‘Could you light me one of those cigarettes?’ Rowena asked. ‘And please, no quips about it being unhealthy.’
Stratton removed one of the cigarettes from the pack and gestured to the engineer to ask if it was okay. The man nodded enthusiastically. Stratton put the pack back into the man’s pocket, lit the cigarette and went over to Rowena.
He handed her the cigarette and walked over to the other end of the pipe that had the lump of wire wool attached. ‘How long do you think the pipe will take to burn down to the first vat?’ he asked, studying its length.
‘A minute, more or less.’
Stratton ignited the lighter and stared at the flame. He racked his brains for anything they had forgotten.
‘What about them?’ she asked.
He extinguished the lighter and looked at the frightened engineers who had clearly worked out that something very bad was going on.
‘Untie them.’
Rowena walked over to the men and untied the rope.
‘Don’t run until I say.’ Stratton gestured to the men, trying to convey the message.
They didn’t appear to understand but remained where they were. He had the gun and they could sense that he was a dangerous individual.
‘You happy where the lift is?’ he asked Rowena.
‘Yes.’
‘You ready?’
‘Yes.’
‘Turn on the gas.’
She went back to the bottle, crouched to grip the valve and looked over at him.
He lit the lighter.
Rowena turned on the gas and it began to hiss. But then another sound echoed around the hall from behind her. The sound of boots running along the gantry. She looked to see half a dozen soldiers spread out on it, aiming rifles down at them.
The Russian major marched smartly from the tunnel, holding his pistol, and stood between his men, looking smug. ‘Put down your weapon!’
‘Which one?’ Stratton asked.
The officer looked confused. ‘The rifle.’
Stratton laid the rifle on the floor and stepped back, close to the vat that offered some cover from view. He was still within reach of the wire wool that quivered as the oxygen passed through it. ‘What about this one?’ Stratton held out the lighter.
The Russian couldn’t make out what Stratton had in his hand.
‘With this I can open up this,’ Stratton said, placing a hand on the side of the large vat.
The officer did not comprehend the threat. He took a rifle from one of his men and aimed it at Stratton. As soon as he did, the engineers began shouting and waving their hands as they hurried from Stratton to the officer. One of them quickly explained the significance of the oxygen cylinders beneath the vats as well as the dangers of a bullet zooming around the room. He capped off his elaborate description with a simplified ‘Boom!’ that everyone could understand.
The officer looked concerned, as did his soldiers, who began to grasp the situation. One of them was the young soldier who had guarded Stratton. He had a bump on the side of his head. He was the first to lower his rifle without receiving a command to do so and the others followed his lead.
The officer realised that he had been checked. ‘Okay,’ he said, lowering his own weapon. ‘You turn off the gas and nothing will happen to you.’
Stratton rolled his eyes. ‘Who are you trying to kid? This is it for us. We’re dead. But it’s the end for you too. We’re going to take you with us.’
The officer was unable to hide his nervousness. ‘It . . . it doesn’t have to be that way.’
‘It’s the only way. I would rather die like this than in one of your prisons.’ Stratton looked over at Rowena who nodded and looked up at the Russians.
‘Me too,’ she said.
One of the soldiers could speak enough English to understand what had been said and relayed the suicide threat to his colleagues in Russian. A ripple of fear ran through them.
Stratton ignited the lighter and lit the wire wool. It glowed as it burned as quickly as hay and when the pipe itself ignited, the steel, acting as a fuel encouraged by the oxygen, sparked furiously and glowed bright red and roared loudly as smoke and flames issued from the end of it.
The two engineers could stand it no longer and scrambled to the stairs and up them. As they passed the soldiers their panic infected them and every man immediately took flight, except the officer. He stood his ground for a few seconds before stepping back and breaking into a sprint after the others.
Stratton and Rowena looked at each other as the pipe burned swiftly towards the vat.
‘Turn it off,’ he called out.
Rowena obeyed, screwing down the valve until the gas was cut off. The roaring ceased and the flames spewing from the end of the pipe subsided. ‘What now?’ she asked.
