Land of Fire (28 page)

We were drawing close to the LUPI told the woman to wait with me a moment while I sent Nobby on ahead to warn whoever was on observation stag that we were bringing in a prisoner. It was Kiwi. The sight of his massive silhouette was reassuring; so was the calm with which he greeted us. "Doug's in the back. Trouble with the com ms

Whatever the problem was I didn't want to discuss our plans and difficulties in front of the woman. I sent her up to the LUP with the other two and told them to keep her there and send Doug down to me at the fence. Inside a minute he came crawling back through the bush.

"Mark," he snapped, and that was a sure sign of trouble he hardly ever used my first name. "Fuck, are we in trouble. I still can't contact Hereford. The fucking satcom's given up on us."

My heart sank. First the 320 set, now the satcom. "What's happened?" I was thinking it couldn't be water in the electronics; the set was packed in a sealed box. "It was working all right when we landed."

"The fucking connector leads are missing, that's what," Doug snarled. He was very angry. I was appalled. The leads connecting the transmitter to the aerial were a vital part of the kit.

"But you took spares?"

Doug gestured furiously. "Of course there was fucking spares! I always pack spares! They were both together in a pocket in the sat pack. The fuckers must have dropped out somewhere."

I didn't ask if he had searched the area we were in. He must have discovered the loss almost immediately and been searching frantically for them all the while Josh and I were out on the airfield.

"We had the leads on the beach. Did you check again when we left the Toyota?"

"Fuck you! I checked we had the pack. I didn't open up to see if the cables were there. It was too fucking dark to see."

I was trying to control my anger too. It had dawned on me that if the cables weren't here then the best bet was that they had been left behind on the beach when we sent a landing sitrep to Hereford in which case the loss was down to me. Doug was angry with me, not himself.

"I swear I put the cables back inside." The truth was that I couldn't remember. There had been so many things to think about back on the beach. Jock was missing and I had to take charge. It would have been all too easy to pack the set up and leave the cables behind on the sand. "We checked the whole site before pulling out," I said lamely. "Besides, I only used one set."

"Well they're both gone now," Doug said savagely. He took a deep breath. "So what do we do? Give up and go home?"

The sneer in his voice made me blaze with anger. He was suggesting that we had to abort and all because of my negligence. And I wasn't having any of it. "The fuck we do," I told him. "Did you try to raise Seb on the cellphone?"

"Yes. No response. All we got was an answer service."

"It's almost morning we'll get a call back soon. The satcom set uses standard sockets, and oil company geologists use satellite phones all the time. He can find us cables to fit."

I was still kicking myself for my stupidity. I thought it likely that Seb would be able to fix us up, but it would take time and time was something that we didn't have. The Argies were working round the clock to have those planes readied. They must have been planning to have the work completed by tomorrow at the latest. It made me mad at myself. Andy would never have let this happen.

Five minutes later we were moving out up the path towards the gates. I had had to take a decision fast. Dawn was approaching and the patrols would be coming round soon. If we were to get away it had to be now before daylight trapped us in situ. And above all it was vital to establish contact with Seb and arrange for an urgent message to be passed through to Hereford.

The gear was all together. It was simply a matter of cut and run. Before we pulled out, we scoured the plinth and path, removing every trace of our presence. I even replaced the mine that I had lifted, thinking that it might keep the Argies busy removing it.

The woman looked shaken by our weapons and the speed and silence with which we moved. She did not protest when I pointed her down the track after the others.

Rain was still falling as we reached the gates and the first hint of light was creeping into the sky. Not dawn yet, but a darkness that was easier to see in. While the others crouched at the side in the bushes, weapons at the ready, I approached the gate. Into the lock I inserted the brass key with the plastic tab that Seb had given me and twisted it. Nothing happened. I tried again, still no joy. I tugged at the hasp but it remained locked. I tried putting the key in the other way, pulling it a short way out. Nothing worked. Still it wouldn't turn.

"Bugger it," I muttered under my breath and, taking a grip with both hands on the key, I twisted it with all my strength. There was a metallic snap and the key broke off at the lock. Shit!

I went back to the others and told them what had happened. "The fucker jammed in the lock. All this snow and rain must've rusted it up. Now it's busted."

"You fat-handed twat," Doug snarled in a whisper. "Can't even work a key. Now what?"

I looked at the gate. It was strung with barbed wire across the top. Kiwi followed my gaze. "No sweat, boss," he said.

We ran back to the gate. I took off my pack and slung my weapon over my shoulder. Kiwi made a stirrup for my foot and heaved me up effortlessly. I gripped the bar at the top of the gate and pulled myself upright, holding on to the barbed wire with my gloved hands. I hooked one leg over to get a firm stance and Kiwi passed up the pack. I heaved it over and dropped it down on the ground on the far side. I swung my other leg across, let go and jumped down. I was back outside the base. "Easy," I whispered.

Josh came next, then Doug. As soon as they were down they took up positions with their weapons covering the tracks in both directions. Kiwi seized the woman and boosted her up on his shoulders till she was level with the top of the gate. She picked her way neatly over, gripping the wire between the barbs with her slim fingers. I reached up to help her down but she motioned me curtly out of the way and jumped. She landed lightly as a cat. I laid my hand on her shoulder just in case she had any ideas about taking off now she was outside. She shook herself away angrily, but made no attempt to escape.

That left only Kiwi and Nobby, the biggest and the smallest of the team. This time Kiwi went first. Nobby made a step for the huge New Zealander and in a second he was up on top of the gate. Nobby handed up both their packs and Kiwi threw them over. He took a strap from his pocket and lowered the end to Nobby, who wound it round his wrist and gripped tightly. With a grunt Kiwi heaved him up beside him on the gate. The two of them climbed over and jumped down one after another. As they did so there came an urgent hiss from Doug up the track. "Vehicle approaching."

"Take cover!" I rapped instantly, grabbing the woman by the hand. Seizing our berg ens we ran for the bush on the far side of the track, threw ourselves flat and began wriggling in underneath as fast as we could go. I pushed her in front of me,

whispering at her to keep her head down. She didn't seem to need telling though. She was crawling along on her belly like a pro. Maybe she had been trained that was something else to bear in mind when we had a moment to question her.

The noise of the approaching vehicles was loud behind us now. This must be the dawn patrol Seb had warned us about. It was fortunate that the rain had washed away the snow and we weren't leaving any tracks.

We were around thirty yards into the bush and our cammies would give us good cover at this range. Even the woman's dark clothing would be hard to spot.

Headlamps swept among the scrub overhead and halted. The engine note died to an idle and there was a shouted order. We all tensed. Had we been spotted? I heard the sound of a man jumping down, probably from a Jeep. There was a rattle from the gates. Checking the lock, I thought. Seb had been right when he said the marines here were well disciplined. There was a call in Spanish followed by the sound of the man returning. Evidently everything was in order. The engine picked up again, there was a clash of gears, and the headlights moved on past us down the track.

Before we moved off I checked my GPS. We still hadn't managed to contact Seb but we had agreed an RV point in a clearing about two kilometres due north. There was an old stone sheep-creep there, apparently, which would provide some sort of cover for us to lie up in during daylight. He had given me a grid reference which I had entered into the GPS memory. All I had to do was call it up to get a bearing.

We moved out quickly, Kiwi leading this time. We had less than an hour of darkness left and a good way to hike. Even if we kept on going through the twilight of half dawn we would be pressed to make the RV point before sun-up. Whether or not we could keep going would depend on the terrain. The one thing we couldn't do was risk being spotted. A lot depended on the rain keeping up and forcing people indoors.

I worried that the 'woman wouldn't be able to keep up, but she seemed fit and accustomed to walking and at least she wasn't carrying a bergen. It occurred to me to ask her what she knew of the country round here, but I decided against it. I wanted to keep her under our control at all times, and it was necessary for her to be convinced we knew exactly what we were doing.

Shortly after leaving the airfield we were back in the pampas again. There were few trees, and the rain had left many deep pools into which we plunged constantly.

We were headed north, parallel with the coast. The main road was away to our left a couple of kilometres. That was the direction in which there was most likely to be human activity, and we kept well clear.

We constantly checked behind us, but detected nothing and pressed on.

The sky was definitely lightening towards the east now, and we still had over two kilometres to go.

It wasn't long before Kiwi signalled us to halt. I went forward and found we had almost blundered on to a small house, almost a shack, built into the side of a slope. It looked like the sort of place a shepherd might hole up in, almost certainly with a pack of dogs at his command. We backed carefully away and circled round downwind to the west, giving the place a 500-metre berth.

At one point Nobby, who had taken over the scout position, spotted car headlights in the distance. The main road was less than a kilo metre away. I checked the GPS and changed course towards the east again. The trouble with this coastal strip was that it was hemmed in between road and sea with little room to manoeuvre.

Soon afterwards we made a second break and dogleg: we cut back across our own track and halted for a moment to check for followers. We were about to move off again when Josh said, "Wait."

Everyone dropped flat, safety catches snicking off. I glanced at Josh. He signalled to me that he had glimpsed one figure back down the track in the direction we had been coming from. Grey streaks of dawn were now lightening the sky and the landscape was taking on a ghostly appearance as objects emerged mistily from the darkness. The rain had eased off and the wind was dropping. The temperature was hovering near freezing, though a raw, damp cold that penetrated my clothes and set me shivering.

We waited in the wet grass for ten minutes as water dripped from the bushes, but nothing happened. Eventually I signed to Josh to go forward and investigate, with Doug to cover him. They crawled away into the misty gloom while the rest of us waited, weapons cocked, ready to come to their aid. Visibility had increased till it was just possible to make out faces in the murk. Finally my earpiece gave a click. "Fuck all here," came Doug's voice, irritated and abrasive. "Reckon your kid brother has been jumping at shadows."

"Are you certain?" I responded. Doug was a good soldier -fast, aggressive and courageous in action, but he lacked patience.

"You questioning my judgement?" he snapped back, his short fuse igniting in a trice. "You don't trust me, is that it? You think this jerk knows more soldiering than I do."

I was tired. "Fuck off, Doug," I told him. "I asked if you're certain we aren't being stalked. If you're happy, fine. Come on back and bring Josh with you."

Doug emerged from the bush with a crestfallen Josh following. He was sure he had seen something among the gorse and even reckoned he had found a footprint but Doug remained dismissive. "It was one of the chick's," he sneered. "Though what we're brought her along for I dunno unless it's to have some fun while we're waiting at the RV."

Even if the woman's English wasn't good enough to follow this exchange, Doug's leer made its sentiment plain. She shot him a look of contempt and spat. "English soldier. Bastardo!"

"Drop it," I told them. "We've got to get moving. I'll lead. Josh, you look after her. Kiwi, you take the rear slot and keep your eyes skinned."

I cracked on, setting as fast a pace as I could. I was desperately anxious to reach the RV point before daylight made it too dangerous to move. If there was anyone behind us then perhaps we could leave them behind. The only pursuit we really had to fear would be by vehicles.

Or from the air.

Less than half an hour later, just as it was nearing 9.15am, we heard the thud of helicopters approaching from our rear.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

"Take cover!" I shouted, flinging myself down into the wet grass. Dawn was breaking slowly, drawing a thick mist out of the ground which covered the country in a dense cloud. The sun was coming up, a weak, wintry orb with no warmth to it. Beads of moisture clung to our clothes and weapons. We could see only a distance of a few metres. All sounds were muffled, and we lay in a nebulous, white world.

I pulled my camo net over me and lay flat. The machines clattered overhead at speed, invisible in the low overcast as we burrowed blindly into the grass like animals. Heavy-duty troop carriers, I judged by the engine note. Something like the American Black Hawk or our own Puma, each carrying a stick of twelve to fifteen fully armed troops. Enough to give us a headache. It sounded like they were flying high and heading north. Maybe they were trying to spot us through patches in the mist, or perhaps it was just a routine patrol. There was no way of telling.