Exocet - Jack Higgins [35]
'How many of them were there?'
'An officer and two men, senor. Captain Lopez. They unloaded a lot of equipment and then the Captain decided he needed some special fuses.' He took a crumpled list from his pocket. 'See, here it is, senor. He was sending me back to base for these things.'
Jackson looked over Villiers' shoulders. 'Kaden Pencils. That's pretty heavy stuff. What in the hell does he want that for?'
To blow up the lighthouse, senor.' the boy said patiently. 'And rocks, also, I think.'
To blow up the lighthouse?' Jackson said.
The boy nodded, 'Oh, yes, senor, I heard them discussing it.'
'Rubbish,' Jackson said. 'Why go to the trouble? It hasn't been used for thirty years. Doesn't make sense.'
'Oh, yes it does, Harvey,' Villiers said, 'if you consider its position on the rocks above the entrance. Bring it down, and you'll efficiently block the only deepwater channel into the cove.'
'Christ,' Jackson said. 'Then we'd better do something about it and fast.' He said to the boy in bad Spanish, 'How far is it from here on this track.'
'Fifteen or sixteen kilometres round the mountain.'
'Only not in this, not any more.' Villiers kicked the half-track. There was a strong smell of petrol and it dripped from the tank in a steady flow, melting the frozen ground. 'You did a pretty thorough job, Harvey.'
Jackson swore savagely. 'So what in the hell do we do?'
Villiers turned and looked up at the mountain towering into the mist. 'Bull Cove's directly on the other side. Say six miles. We'll do it the hard way. You, me, Korda. Leave all equipment behind. Sub-machine guns only. Now you'll find out what all that endurance testing on the Brecons was about.'
They went back to the hidden encampment, Jackson pushing the boy along in front of him. As Villiers stripped his excess gear, he said to Elliot. 'You follow with the boy. Don't bother about this stuff. Just bring the radio and your own gear.'
'Very well, sir.'
'And the kid,' Villiers said. 'I want him to arrive with you. No stories about how he made a run for it and you had to cut him down, understand?'
'Do I look as if I'd do a thing like that, sir?' Elliot demanded.
'Yes,' Jackson said sourly. 'So don't. I'll give you two and a half hours to join us and let you choose an easy route out of consideration to the kid. Five minutes over and I'll have your guts for garters.'
'All right,' Villiers said. 'Let's go, you two,' and he turned, moved out of the hollow and started to run across the hillside.
* * *
It has been said that out of every fifty soldiers who volunteer for transfer to the Special Air Service Regiment, only one makes the grade. The culmination of a savage and punishing selection procedure is the endurance march across the wilderness that is the Brecon Beacons.
The would-be recruit is required to march forty-five miles across some of the worst country in Britain, loaded down with a pack of around eighty pounds and a belt kit weighing another fifteen. His eighteen pound rifle has to be carried because SAS weapons are not allowed slings, so that they are always available for instant use.
Scrambling up through the mist, Villiers was reminded of his own selection purgatory when he'd first volunteered. Jackson came up beside him, panting.
'Just like sodding Brecon. All it has to do is rain and we'll be right at home. Why all the rush? I mean if the kid was sent for more stuff, they must be taking their time.'
'Bad feeling,' Villiers said. 'Right down in the gut. You know me. Always right when I get that.'
'Enough said,' Jackson replied, and turned and called to Korda who was twenty yards behind. 'Come on, you lazy bastard, move it!'
* * *
Instead of working his way diagonally up the steep hillside, Villiers went straight up and the others followed him. The slope lifted until it was almost perpendicular with rough