“How long have you been out here, soldier?”
“Nearly two hours.”
“That’s two hours, Sir.”
“Yes Sir, sorry Sir.”
“I am collecting a package for Colonel Reed; move the bollards, soldier.”
As always, the name drop instils the required amount of fear into the young soldier. He immediately straightens his shivering back and then waves to his partner to move the bollards.
“Thank you, soldier, how much longer are you on duty for?”
“Who knows, I think they have probably forgotten we are here, Sir.”
“I’ll see what I can do, terrible night for it.”
“Thank you, Sir, the rain is easing off now, Sir, I think.”
“Can you point me in the direction of LZ1?”
“Over to the left, toward the terminal building, Sir,” the soldier says, turning and pointing in the direction.
“Thank you, soldier, carry on.”
As the car window goes up, the soldier salutes the Lieutenant.
Winters, as he pulls forward towards the open entry, decides that the soldier is indeed correct, and the rain is easing off. The Defender’s wipers now trigger only intermittently, to account for the sparser and smaller raindrops.
The Defender veers to the left as it enters the landing zone, taking a wide berth away from the landing points that are now on the right. Helicopters, mostly Apache Attack are constantly landing and taking off and rain or not, personnel are scattered all around. The majority are there to service the newly landed helicopters, getting them ready for take-off and onto their next mission. The rest of the personnel are either flight crew or soldiers, either disembarking from their mission or embarking ready for take-off.
The helicopter landing area has the landing point numbers painted large and bold onto the tarmac in yellow and encloses them in a large white painted circle. Each zone also has a sign next to it with its number on, making it easier for the ground staff to identify them.
Winters has entered at the end with the bigger numbers; the highest he sees is twenty-nine. Gradually, the numbers decrease as he drives. He takes it slowly, due to the number of people and equipment bustling around.
Eventually, Winters parks up a few meters away from LZ1, and he stays inside the Defender waiting for his team to land. The improving weather means that the rain is now no more than a drizzle and the wind has continued to drop, although the wind is harder to quantify with all the downdrafts taking place in the busy landing zone.
Chapter 2
A strong side-wind hits the Lynx, causing it to shudder and lose altitude before Alders reacts and compensates upfront in his pilot’s seat.
Staring out of the hold window, Alice is eager to see some sign that the flight is nearly over. She knows their return to base must be close now, but it can’t come soon enough for her or the rest of the team she has, no doubt, especially Josh. She is a reluctant passenger on any helicopter, not that she would outwardly show her anxieties—never mind her being squeezed into this overloaded one in a storm, having just seen one helicopter drop from the sky. This isn’t nursing that anxiety at all.
Struggling to try to take her mind off it, she tries to concentrate on the view out of the window, searching for any recognisable landmarks to show they are nearly back at Heathrow. She is on the wrong side of the hold, though, and all she sees is darkness and nondescript roads. She curses her luck that she doesn’t have the same view of the M4 motorway that they will have on the opposite side of the Lynx.
A wave of guilt passes over her, cursing her own luck because she isn’t happy with her view out of the window when Josh is seated next to her. Her head turns in his direction, but he is still slumped in his seat with his head down; God only knows what is going on in his head. Her guilt grows.
Alice tries to think of something to say to him, to try and pick him up, if only a little. She fails though, as she can think of nothing to say that won’t sound totally lame. She hopes that when this godawful flight is over and they land, he might improve.
Josh will have other things to think about, but then she remembers his sister is waiting for him and her father to return.
Feeling helpless, her gaze returns to the window, hoping to see the burning lights of Heathrow come into view.
“Heathrow is just ahead, ETA, three minutes!” Alder shouts from the cockpit.
Alice’s relief on hearing those words is considerable and she isn’t the only one. The low voices which are all she has heard in the noisy hold start to rise and life starts to return. Everyone starts moving to get their kit together, and it reminds her of a commercial flight after landing and the seat belt light pings off. She is relieved to see Josh’s head come up as he starts to check his kit, instinctively checking his pocket to make sure the most important piece of kit is still there, and it hasn’t miraculously vanished—his phone.
Sergeant Dixon seated next to Josh—and who has hardly said two words for the entire trip—reluctantly leans forward and fishes under his seat. Gradually, he drags out the cause of all this grief, the holdall containing the contents of Sir Malcolm’s safe. He leaves the large black, heavily laden holdall on the floor of the Lynx and with disdain, pushes it away with his boot, towards the door and away from him.
“Downey,” he says to the next man closest to him, “you’re in charge of this.”
Downey looks none too pleased with his new assignment of taking charge of the cursed holdall but reluctantly acknowledges his new task.
Finally, Alice briefly sees the large buildings of Heathrow Airport come into view and the bright lights of
