Pirate - Duncan Falconer [101]
Crew emerged from the superstructure beneath Stratton and divided up on their way to all of the Sea Kings. They set about untying the rotors and making other preparations for flight. He searched the various clusters of men and individuals along the length of the deck for one who looked like he might be the captain. He saw two men standing at the front of the flight deck looking forward out to sea, one of whom fitted the description.
Stratton climbed down a ladder on to the flight deck. The wind whipped at him as he walked past the end of the superstructure and across the exposed deck.
The younger of the two men saw him and said something to the other. The older man looked around at Stratton as he approached. His cropped silver hair made him look older than he was.
The younger man gave Stratton an officious nod before heading away. Stratton wondered what the captain was going to be like. Everyone on board looked well turned out and he was walking around in a boiler suit with straggly hair and several days’ worth of beard. No wonder he seemed alien to the regular military. He had spent so many years in SF and working with military intelligence that if he ever had to join the regulars for some reason, he doubted he would last a week before being court martialled for any one of a number of insubordinations. The service could be pretty laid back compared with the Navy and Marines, but it still had enough stuffed shirts within its ranks to make life difficult for field operatives when they spent any time back at the HQ camp.
The captain turned to greet him with a smile that was echoed in his eyes.
‘Good to meet you, Stratton. I understand everyone calls you by your last name.’
Stratton politely shrugged indifference. ‘Good to meet you too, sir.’
The captain looked him up and down. ‘I see you’ve not had a chance to get some duds, or is it that you prefer the scruffy look?’
‘One of the lads is finding me a razor and something to wear, sir.’
‘Personally I envy you being able to wear what you want. When I go on leave I don’t normally have a shave until the day I return to work. My wife likes that too. I don’t think anyone would deny you your rest after what you’ve been through.’ The captain checked his watch and looked in the direction his ship was sailing. ‘I’m sorry about your friend.’
Stratton didn’t answer. The captain had obviously been briefed by Poole or London. There hadn’t been any hint of judgement in the way he said it. That was because it was unlikely he knew all the details. He wouldn’t have been told anything other than the basic facts. He certainly wouldn’t know that Stratton had killed his colleague. That kind of information would be kept in house, for a while at least. It would eventually leak out from Ops and into the ranks of the SBS. London could also be a bit of a sieve for that kind of gossip. So it would find its way into the general information mainstream, through wives and bar talk. It wouldn’t be classified as secret, just sensitive. Everyone gossiped. Special forces and military intelligence were no different. It was a piece of information that ultimately did no harm if it was leaked. Helen, Hopper’s wife, might be upset by it. She might understand when she heard the full details. But she would not be pleased if she discovered that Stratton was ultimately responsible for her husband’s death. That the strategies he had employed were flawed. Self-seeking. That would leak out too. Eventually. She might wonder if it was a twisted rumour at first. If so, she might ask Stratton to clarify that himself. He would tell the truth. He didn’t know her well enough to guess how she might react. He did know if she had a temper, she might hit him. He would have to take it. He would want to take it. Hopper’s two children would eventually learn about it too. One day. They had all of that to come.
So the captain would eventually learn the whole story. He might reflect on their meeting. Stratton wondered how the old man would judge