affect the outcome.
Matt wasn’t that stupid, though. He knew the ground rules. So he also knew Hopper’s death by Stratton’s hand could be an acceptable reason to criticise him openly, show the man some disdain. He wouldn’t miss an opportunity like that. Matt thought he could see a personal advantage in it. He might expose a severe flaw in the highly rated operative while at the same time turn the spotlight on himself. Elevate himself and at the same time shrink Stratton’s stature.
‘It was intentional,’ Stratton said without any edge or emotion to his voice.
There were those nearby who hadn’t known. Some of them had heard but could not believe that Stratton had wilfully killed Hopper. To hear the admission from Stratton’s own lips left all of them confused. Even those who thought they knew him. A few immediately doubted that they could support him.
‘I can’t imagine a scenario where you would have to kill a mate deliberately,’ Matt said. ‘There’s always a chance he might survive.’
Matt had a valid point. Stratton could never be 100 per cent certain Hopper would have died if he hadn’t shot him.
‘Who do you think you are? God?’ Matt said.
Stratton was seething deep down inside. He harboured a great deal of guilt about Hopper’s death, to be sure. But despite the element of doubt that Hopper might not have died at the hands of the fanatical terrorists if Stratton hadn’t shot him, it wasn’t the true source of his guilt. That originated with the events that had led to Hopper being taken away by Sabarak. Stratton’s self-indulgent adventure to the ship was the reason Hopper had been taken to the jihadists’ camp. That was his true crime and the cause of Hopper’s death. But Matt was talking about something else. He didn’t know about that side of the story, and perhaps if he did, he would not have seen anything wrong with it because it was precisely the kind of thing Matt would have done himself. Stratton not only believed Matt was wrong, he resented him for it.
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Stratton said, keeping a grip on his anger.
‘Is that right? Why don’t you explain it to us?’
‘I would, if I thought you’d get it.’
Matt gritted his teeth, reading the insinuation that he in particular wouldn’t understand while others might. He had been accused of being thick in the past, an accusation he didn’t take kindly to. Banter in the SBS could get particularly barbed and personal but people were expected not to overreact and bite on the bait. Matt had been known to take a swing at anyone who ventured to illuminate his restricted intellect. But that wasn’t the only thing that angered Matt this time. He also felt that Stratton had insinuated something else: that his inability to understand the subtleties of Stratton’s actions was the reason why he had not been selected by the SIS for special operations.
Matt’s jaw clenched even more tightly. ‘You really do rate yourself, don’t you?’
Stratton decided to ignore the man and get back to sorting out his glider. Matt’s hands balled into fists. If anyone else had turned their back on him, he might have considered closing the distance and testing the waters further. But despite all his ill feelings towards Stratton, he knew better than to cross a certain line with the man. Matt had some weapons in his arsenal but he would not test them against those in Stratton’s. But then again, there would probably never be a better time than this one.
‘That’s enough,’ Downs said, stepping in. ‘One more word, Matt, and you’re off the op. And you know that ball will bounce all the way to the top by the time you get back to Poole.’
Matt might not have been the brightest light in the SBS but he could instantly figure out the consequences of being kicked off an operation. He not only backed off but gave Downs a look that was pure deference. He didn’t even give Stratton a parting glance as he turned away and got back to his glider.
But anyone who knew Matt was aware he wouldn’t let the issue go completely. He wouldn’t risk injuring his career for anything but neither could he back off when he believed he was right.
Stratton focused on securing his equipment but he could feel the eyes on him. His wound was sorely exposed.
Downs wanted to say something to his friend but he couldn’t. He knew as little about the incident as everyone else and was one of those who had forgiven Stratton immediately, feeling that if he had indeed killed Hopper then he had a good reason and that was that. But it still left something of a bitter taste in his mouth. He could sense Stratton wasn’t exactly comfortable with it and suspected there was a lot more to it. He would ask Stratton, one day, but not at that moment. Perhaps over that pint they had talked about.
It was like the sun had taken advantage of the men’s distraction to slip below the horizon. Darkness came quite suddenly. Which wasn’t helped by the carrier going into full external dark mode, with only dim red lighting inside the superstructure’s entrances. The men used low-light glowlights to finish off preparing the gliders.
The
‘Is that Somalia?’ one of the men asked no one in particular.
They could see a faint glow in the distance in the direction of the Somali coastline.
‘Calula,’ someone answered.
‘I think that’s too far east,’ another operator said. ‘Could be, I suppose,’ he added, having a second thought.
The wind suddenly picked up a little, something each man was keenly aware of. Crewmen hurried to the wing ends to hold them in case a gust should arrive. With no one sitting in them, the craft were relatively light and could get blown about. The single thought that ran through every operative’s mind at that point was how strong the captain would let it get before cancelling the take-off.
There was one other significant element in the equation that could stop the operation and that was any sign of mobilisation by the Somali jihadists. The ship’s operations room carefully watched the terrorist camp via satellite. If they got any indication that the enemy were preparing for an attack, the task would be aborted, for the time being at least. The teams didn’t have the manpower, equipment or firepower to mount an assault against a defended position. The satellite guys felt confident that the jihadists hadn’t reacted unduly to Stratton’s escape despite him knowing the whereabouts of their camp. The initial fear had been that they might immediately relocate. But all signs seemed to indicate that they hadn’t. Not yet. It was the reason why the assault had been organised so quickly. They had to hit the camp before the missiles could be moved. The jihadists had to know that Stratton had escaped them but would they expect him to have escaped Somalia? Which was why Lotto had been upgraded to a significant factor.
They estimated that the pirate chief would have reached his coastal base by dusk that day. How he acted would depend on how seriously he took the possibility that the British would mount an attack right away or even at all. Lotto didn’t necessarily know that Stratton had discovered the weapons secreted on board the
A glider engine fired up and its propeller whirred. The glider engineer who had accompanied the teams was running a test after having completed some work on it. Stratton felt surprised by how quiet it was. He hadn’t heard the engines since the new suppressors had been fitted. In fact most of the sound came from the propellers cutting through the air rather than the engine itself.
Before long, every glider had its wing fitted and appeared ready to go. The wind hadn’t increased significantly and everything looked good to go.
‘You all set?’ Downs asked Stratton.
‘Yep,’ Stratton said as he buckled up his fighting harness and adjusted the strapping.
‘Seriously. You looking forward to this or not? You had a pretty hard time of it over there.’
‘I’m ready to go,’ Stratton said, with little emotion. ‘More than anyone else here,’ he added.
Downs believed him. He had the feeling there might also be more to it than just revenge for Hopper. He pushed the send button on his radio that was attached to his body harness. ‘All stations, this is Downs, check.’
‘Harry, check,’ came an immediate reply.
‘Dizzy, check.’
‘Spud, check.’
And so on as each glider team responded to the communications check in turn. First or nicknames could be used instead of call-signs for a number of reasons. The communications system had been encrypted and even the
