Pirate - Duncan Falconer [121]
Downs didn’t hang about and immediately lost height. He touched down hard and they bounced back up until he took the power out of the engine and the glider dropped back to the ground with another thump.
‘Sorry about that,’ Downs said as he steered the craft away from the middle of the landing strip to make room for the others.
They quickly climbed out, ditched their life-jackets and prepared their equipment for the next phase.
‘I think I’d like the rain to stop now,’ Downs said.
One of the pathfinders arrived from the darkness. ‘All right, Downsy?’
‘Thanks, Smudge. There’s only nine left in this serial.’
‘I ’eard. Get going. I’ll clean up,’ Smudge said. ‘Got everything?’
‘Yep,’ said Stratton, pulling on his backpack.
‘Go ahead,’ Downs said.
Smudge tossed an incendiary into the glider and as Downs and Stratton walked away it burst into flames. Smudge ran off to help the next crews who had landed.
‘We live in a very disposable world, don’t we,’ Downs said as he watched the glider go up in flames.
Stratton didn’t answer, going to the edge of the small plateau to look down the slope at the glowing wood.
‘I wish I’d gone for the black outfit myself,’ Downs said, comparing Stratton’s fatigues with his own. ‘You’re anxious to get down there, aren’t you?’
‘Sabarak will be on the run.’
‘That’s the idea. Our job is to take out the missiles. Someone else’ll get Sabarak, one day if not today.’
Stratton wasn’t interested in another day. Only in this one. He looked back to see if the others were ready to go.
‘But that’s the bit that pisses you off, hey, Stratton. You want to be the one who does him in.’
‘I owe him.’
‘We all owe him. Hopper was my friend as well.’
‘You didn’t have to kill him!’ Stratton said angrily, immediately regretting the outburst.
Downs couldn’t remember ever seeing Stratton that upset about something. He decided to leave it alone. He also decided to keep an eye on his friend. He wasn’t himself and they were about to step into a very hostile location.
Stratton stepped off the edge of the plateau and began down the slope that had turned into sludge in the rain.
Downs looked back for the rest of his men. ‘Come on, you lot!’ he shouted. ‘There’s a war on, you know!’
The men hurried over to the team leader as another glider burst into flames.
‘We’ll see you in the wood, Smudge,’ Downs shouted.
‘Roger that,’ Smudge called back, dumping an incendiary into another glider and hurrying off to the next one.
The rain continued to fall in buckets. Stratton felt soaked to the skin but it meant nothing to him. He carried his Colt at the ready as he passed the redoubt he and the girl had hidden behind only two days before.
When he walked into the clearing on the edge of the wood, he stopped to look down at the spot where Hopper had knelt when he shot him. The ground was muddy with water pooling everywhere.
He heard Downs and the others coming up behind him. They spread out as they approached the trees. Fires still burned within the wood. They could see no movement. It was like all who had survived had scattered.
Milton, one of the non-pilots, stepped beside Downs with a video camera attached to a head cage that allowed him to look through the lens but keep his hands on his weapon.
‘Oscar Zero, that’s Tango One Foxtrot at Sierra Two,’ Downs said into his radio.
‘Roger, that’s Tango One at Sierra Two,’ came a reply.
Downs looked at the others either side of him to see if they were ready to move in but Stratton set off without waiting for the command.
‘So used to working on your own, ain’t you,’ Downs quipped as he walked off after him.
They didn’t have to walk far into the wood before they came across the first dead fighter. A fresh depression in the ground a few metres away and his missing leg suggested he had been killed by a mortar.
Milton stood over the