Pirate - Duncan Falconer [108]
Stratton lowered the gun, pulled a loaded, extended twenty-round magazine from the bundle, placed it into the weapon, cocked it and released the slide so that it picked up a bullet and slammed it into the breach. He deftly nudged the release lever on the side of the weapon with his thumb and the hammer sprang forward without firing the weapon. It was cocked and ready to fire. He placed it into a holster, which he strapped to his thigh.
He opened another box to reveal a line of immaculate, new compact Colt assault rifles fully fitted with night scopes and infrared spotlights. Stratton removed one of the weapons that had a combat harness strap attached to it, checked the working parts and looked through the sight. Happy with it, he picked up a pouch of magazines and stuffed a couple of spare ammo boxes into a small backpack. He removed a scanning device attached to a laptop computer and scanned the barcode on the weapon and heard a soft beep. He pointed the same scanner at one of his eyes and moved it around until the same soft beep was emitted.
After recording the Colt magazines and the GPS, he opened a box of tracking devices and tested the one he selected. It was fully charged and he scanned its barcode, which registered the device to his name on the laptop. Trackers were usually used by SF when operating against unsophisticated enemy who would be unable to crack the signal encryption. They were small and light and the battery could last for days on a ping to a satellite every fifteen minutes.
He replaced the scanner and checked the face of his watch. He had an hour to go before take-off. Everyone would be mustering on deck to prepare the gliders.
He picked up his pack, stuffed some food and a couple bottles of water inside, added a satellite phone, swung it over his shoulder and headed out of the room.
18
The light was beginning to fade as Stratton stepped from the superstructure into a stiff breeze. HMS Ocean powered towards Somalia, cutting down as much as possible the distance the powered hang-gliders would have to fly. Officially, the carrier could not sail nearer than twelve miles from the coastline to remain within international waters. But the plan required Ocean’s launches to be able to come into the coastline to cover emergency contingencies like a glider hitting the drink and to execute the main exfiltration phase. So the plan was technically illegal. So permission to carry it out would be granted by the Somali government in retrospect. You couldn’t make them aware of the attack before it was complete simply because they could not be trusted to maintain secrecy.
The pyramid-shaped glider frames had been lined up in neat rows, their propellers mounted at the backs of the engines secured within them. On the uppermost point of each, where the tubular framing converged, a large bracket hinge would hold the wings. But because of the wind the wings hadn’t been fitted. Two comfortable-looking, lay-backed seats had been arranged in front of the engines, the rear one above and behind the front. The back of the pilot’s seat, in the front, would be part way between the legs of the passenger.
Ops was concerned about the weather. The overall forecast looked favourable but the winds were predicted to be on the high side of acceptable for the gliders. The wind wouldn’t just make it hard getting the craft airborne. It was coming off the land and, with the gliders’ limited power, a strong headwind could prevent them from reaching the target because they could run out of fuel. Which was the only obstacle so far that threatened to postpone the operation. Stratton could only hope the weather held. He was having visions of the last operation he had mounted from HMS Ocean and did not want to spend yet another week on board waiting for the opportunity to go into action.
The SBS operators had