“We will be able to get him in, Sergeant. I’ll go and get them,” I tell him.
“Leave all weapons inside the Lynx, they will be collected and stored, Sir.”
“I’m keeping my sidearm, Sergeant, it’s my oldest friend.”
The Sergeant thinks for a second.
“Very well, Sir, empty it and you can store it in a locker with your other personal belongings.”
“Thank you, Sergeant.”
I slowly and deliberately take my Sig out and empty the gun. The Sergeant tells me to leave the magazine on the ground which I do, together with the last magazine I have for my M4.
“Sergeant, my daughter arrived here about two hours ago, with three women and a man. I don’t suppose—” before I can finish, he interrupts.
“Emily’s your daughter?”
The relief of him saying her name is immense. “Yes, she is!” I say quickly. “Do you know where she is now? She will be worried; can you take me to her?”
The sergeant smiles, “Yes we met them too and took them into quarantine, a lovely little girl, Sir. We will take you to the same quarantine area. She was upset though.”
"Are they all okay?"
"I think so, Sir, I haven't seen them since we took them into the quarantine block."
“Thanks again, Sergeant, I’ll go and get my team.”
Tim is still out of it. Dan and Josh must carry him, one under each shoulder over to the minibus. I help to lift him inside and into one of the seats. Our welcoming committee keeps its rifles trained on us the whole time. I notice blood splatters on the tarmac as we come over to the minibus and a couple of bullet holes. There has obviously been trouble with other arrivals coming into here, which had to be dealt with.
Once we are all in, one of the soldiers outside pulls the door of the minibus shut. Up front, another two men have been sitting waiting for us. The driver is civilian and his passenger military. A steel and wired barrier separates us from the driver’s cabin and wire mesh covers the minibus's rear windows, I would also assume the door that has just been shut cannot be opened from the inside.
The two Defenders pull off leading the way, and we follow. They don't turn towards the massive hangar that this column of vehicles emerged from, however, as I expected. Instead, they travel straight on and then slightly right to join a road that runs parallel to the runway and down the side of the hangar that was to my right when I exited the Lynx. We soon pass this hangar which is a lot thinner than its width and then pass yet another of about the same width.
The left side then opens up into another large expanse of concrete, this one also filled with helicopters, and all of them, it seems, are Apache Attacks. I know for a fact that the British Military doesn't own as many Apaches as I’ve seen since we arrived here, and on further inspection, they all have USAF markings. Obviously, Uncle Sam has a part to play in whatever operation is being prepared for in earnest here at Heathrow.
Our driver follows the Defenders as they turn left onto the road that goes down between the hangar on our left and the Apaches on our right. The minibus has to constantly slow or stop to give way to airport vehicles either making their way to or from the long hangar.
“Whatever they are planning, it’s going to be big,” Josh says, seated beside me.
We’ve been around the block enough to know preparations for a major military operation when we see one.
“I was just thinking the same, Champ.” I’ve called Josh Champ for as long as I can remember. “How’s your arm?”
“It’s fine, Dad, honestly, don’t go on and on…and stop calling me Champ,” he says smiling, but slightly embarrassed.
“Okay, okay,” I smile back. “I’m just glad we found you.”
“I know, Dad. I’m glad you did too, believe me. We just need to find Emily now.”
“We will, she is going to be so happy to see you. She was very worried; you know how she gets, not that I can blame her this time though.”
Eventually, we near the end of the hangar and as we do, most of the other traffic crossing our path clears. There is a smaller, but still a large building in front of us and judging from the loading bays across the left half of the building, it is some kind of cargo depot. The two Defenders head for the right side of the building and come to a stop just past the main entrance where two sentries are guarding, one each side of the entrance doors. They leave space clear for our minibus to pull up just outside.
The Defenders’ doors open, and the same soldiers get out. They come around to the side of the minibus. As they do, they raise their rifles, pointing them at the sliding back door. There is a slight pause, however, as they wait for their sergeant to join them. He still stands by the door of the lead Defender, talking into his radio, his feet apart and his left hand on his hip, a stance of authority.
“When we get in there we need to try to stay together, remember we are a team,” I say to everybody.
“Too right, Boss. They will Never Tear Us Apart, three points.” Dan has a big grin on his face, Alice looks totally confused—and before I can say anything, Josh does.
“INXS.”
“Well done, Joshy boy, three points for you.”
Alice goes from confusion to chuckling to herself.
“You’ll get used to him, Alice, although it’s taken Josh and me a very long time.”
“Boss, I’m hurt,” Dan says, fainting a wounded face and putting his hand on his chest over his heart.
We are all now chuckling.
Just as our chuckling dies down, the sergeant finishes his conversation and makes his way around to join his
