“Yes, Sir,” she says looking slightly better.
“Good, I’ll see you back on the ground.”
“You will, Sir,” she salutes and then she is off to load up.
A vehicle is coming our way that must have the generator and that is my cue to rush back into the hangar to put my last bit of kit on. My pre-prepared body armour is lying on the table, the heavy armour laden with kit, including comms transceiver, grenades and as many magazines as it is possible to cram into it. I have to throw the bulging armour over my head and Lieutenant Winters assists me in doing it up at the sides. He also helps by plugging my comms headset into the transceiver before I put the headset on, over the top of my head. Lieutenant Winters gives me another quick radio check before I fit the helmet that Josh and Alice have put out for me. My new Glock is also waiting for me, and I pick it up, check the magazine before I pull back the action and put the piston into my hip holster.
Finally, I lift my trusted M4 Carbine Assault Rifle up, give it one last check over and then lift its harness over my head, adjusting the harness straps so the rifle sits in my favoured position at my front.
“Are you ready, Captain?” The Lieutenant asks and suddenly I feel like a nervous schoolboy ready for my first day at big school.
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Good luck, Captain,” the Lieutenant says, offering his hand.
“Thanks, keep me apprised on the storm,” I say, as I shake his hand.
This is it, I think as I hear the engines on one of the Lynx start up, closely followed by the second one behind me and my stomach does another somersault. I release the Lieutenant’s hand and take a hold of my M4’s pistol grip with my left hand, the tactical fingerless glove moulding around the grip as my hand contracts around it to keep the gun steady at my front.
As I leave, I see Dan standing on the tarmac by the side of the Lynx on the left, the rotors buffeting him, waiting for me to come out. He sees me coming and gives me a friendly salute which I return, and he turns to climb aboard his transport. I break into a slow jog, aiming right to the other Lynx, grabbing the dark ballistic glasses hanging on the outside of my body armour as I go and slip them on. Have I put them on to protect my eyes from the sun or to hide the fear in my eyes from Josh and the other members of the team? I put the thought out of my head and duck slightly as I go under the helicopter’s spinning rotors.
Josh is on board, waiting for me by the hold door when I arrive. He offers me his hand and I take it, then I place one foot onto the step and my legs push off. As they do, Josh pulls me up and into the Lynx’s hold.
With everyone and all the equipment on board, there is no excuse to delay any further. Our comms are synched to the Lynx’s so I can talk to Buck straight through my headset.
“Let’s get underway, Wing Commander.”
“Roger,” Buck's voice sounds clearly through my headset.
“Shall I close the hold door?” Josh asks.
“No, leave it open, let's see what is out there,” I tell him.
Josh and I sit down into the seats behind us, pull over the lap belts and push them home with a click. Neither of us wants to fall out of the hold door before we have even started.
Wing Commander Buck powers the engines of the Lynx to full throttle, the downdraft created by the rotors above us counteracts the weight of the loaded helicopter and it starts to lift off the ground. Buck eases us up and back, away from the hangar, the Lynx tipping back as its nose raises, flying us back. When he is satisfied that he is at a safe distance, he levels off and starts to turn to the right, away from the hangar. As he turns, we get a view of the hangar below us. Lieutenant Winters is standing in the sun on the tarmac just outside the hangar, watching us leave. The second Lynx has just started its take-off, its rotors a blur of speed and power.
The view is fleeting as we rapidly turn and I can only hope and pray that we will see it again, if and when we return from the mission. Our view of the hangar is overtaken by the expanse of Heathrow’s terminal buildings, its massive hangars and beyond them, the very outskirts of the Greater London suburbs with the green of the open countryside beyond again.
Wing Commander Buck completes his turn and waits, hovering, stationary in the air, waiting for Flight Lieutenant Alders to complete his take-off. As soon as he gets confirmation it is complete, the Wing Commander dips the Lynx’s nose and accelerates forward, forward towards central London and the Orion building.
Chapter 14
There are six seats in the hold of the Lynx, back to back and they run down the middle of the hold, looking outward towards the doors. Three of the SBS troop have their backs to us, seated on the other seats. Josh is next to me in the middle seat on our side and Sergeant Dixon is seated next to him at the tail end, the big black briefcase nestled between his feet, under his protection.
The Lynx virtually retraces the course we came in on last night as we leave Heathrow, steering clear of the runways, under the direction of Air Traffic Control. As we
