by Benson, Tom
“While Sandy was performing his investigation in the cave, I was trying to work out where the thin cord went. A short distance from the entrance I saw the frame because a bird landed on it. It was a narrow and basic device fitted with sharpened stakes which pointed towards the cave entrance.”
“It sounds like the sort of thing used in jungle warfare in Asia a long time ago.”
“Punji sticks,” Flint whispered.
“Bloody hell,” Bill said, “I’m surprised you’ve ever heard of them.”
Sandy nodded. “Our young friend here is a bit strange like that, Bill.”
All three laughed. It was the nature of men who’d faced death—and walked away.
Bill said, “Did you find anything interesting inside the cave?”
“Apart from the skeletons, you mean?” Sandy said.
13 - Progression
Saturday 23rd July
The early morning training session had been tough. After cleaning up, the volunteers sat around two tables they’d pulled together. They were making light-hearted banter about what Calvin had put them through.
Tracey, the firefighter, turned to Flint. “You and Sandy must be enjoying yourselves, coming up that path as if it were flat.”
“Not really,” Flint said and grinned. “We just pretend it’s easy so that we can wind you up.”
Everybody in the small group laughed.
Paul said, “Even if I don’t go on the mission, I’m eager to get my fitness level back.”
“It looks like you’re working hard every day,” Jay-Dee said. “I’ve been with you on the pathway and helping with Marie’s building project down the hill. I noticed that Dawn was listed as a volunteer too, so how did you decide who would go ahead on the training?”
Paul laughed. “We put our sensible heads on and discussed who’d be the best one to look after the children if the other one got hurt. We agreed that if Dawn got injured, I’d need help more than she would.”
“There’s more to the mission than fitness,” Victoria said. “We have to be proficient with a weapon and have a skill to offer.”
Sandy said, “Everyone at this table has something to offer in my opinion, so it’s going to be a tough choice when it comes down to the last four.”
Bill sat quietly among the others, observing the tone and attitude of every person in the immediate vicinity. Apart from thinking about who would take part in Operation Long Haul, he found his thoughts drifting back to the debriefing with Sandy and Flint on the previous evening.
Most alarming was Flint’s close call with the arrow. Had it been a clever ruse to ensure the two men continued uphill giving chase as far as the booby-trapped caves?
According to Sandy, the open-fronted cave which had been booby-trapped was a set-up intended for man or beast. The tripwire could have been activated by a careless intruder or remotely from nearby by somebody observing. Inside the cave had been shelves dug into the walls in two places which showed signs of a torch or simple candle being burnt. In one smoothly-brushed area were foliage and small twigs set out like a sleeping area, complete with a tanned deerskin.
Near one area of the wall was a fireplace cut in with an improvised chimney—a single shaft dug through to reach the outside to prevent the build-up of smoke inside. Around the fireplace was a semi-circle of stones. Within, were the remains of the last fire which had burned there.
Sandy and Flint had described the cave, with its child-like hieroglyphics on the walls. At least one adult and a child might have lived there at one time. The drawings had been done using sharpened stones of different shades, but some images were drawn with a liquid substance which had faded to brown over time. In their opinions, either the youngster was supremely talented, or the adult had drawn some of the figures. Several depicted a person being hunted and killed by spear or bow and arrow. Others displayed a series of stages of a tripwire and a booby trap in action against an upright figure—a human victim.
One of the things that the soldiers had agreed was the fire had not been used for some time. The ashes were not the result of recent habitation—they were too delicate and powdery indicating ageing. The whole scene might have worked when viewed by the untrained eye, but these young men had operated against terrorist groups in jungles and mountain ranges.
Of course, the other peculiarity of that cave was the macabre sight of three skulls, each set upon a pile of bones, which probably belonged to the owners of the skulls. Cracks in the larger bones were a sure indication of somebody or something gaining access to the juicy marrow within. When discussed with Bill, the men reasoned that there weren’t many animals that knew how to gain access to such a succulent treasure. The bones were clean, white, dry—human.
According to Sandy and Flint, the cave was almost devoid of insect life unless there were any tiny creatures still on the deerskin. Even the simple ruse of the animal hide hadn’t worked. Flint had noticed that the skin was practically threadbare—possibly used at one time, but a long time ago. The cave had undoubtedly been a lair but was now no more than a trap for the unwary visitor.
Bill’s personal objective had been to make sure that Patsy realised her existence in the forest had been discovered. He felt sure that once her hideaway had been compromised, she would move on.
“Bill … Bill,” Tina said a little louder, “will you be leading Operation Long Haul?”
He recovered from his reverie. “I’m sorry, Tina, I was lost in thought, you know, wondering how I’m going to beat one of those two in the voting.”
“Yes,” Flint said, “you’ve got that right, old man.” He winked at Bill.
Once again, the people around the two tables smiled at the camaraderie and friendly rivalry between Bill and the two young soldiers.
About halfway down the mountain, Marie and her team had completed a large dug-out shelter. It was effectively a man-made cave cut into the hillside. A sizeable oblong area of turf had been cut and rolled back, ready to be moved forward again as the roof. The shelter was two metres in height and appeared box-like with four equal sides of four metres long.
The turf bricks had been laid and interlaced as conventional house bricks would have been, leaving a small sheltered entrance at the front to deflect any wind. The window openings too were small but adequate. A flue had been cut into a side wall, and then a narrow shaft cut through to the outside world, intending to build a fireplace later if the building survived.
One hundred metres away from the dug-out shelter, an area had been measured and the perimeter filled with stone chips and branches. This was to be the free-standing model of the turf house. For this one, the windows would be small once again. Marie had set out where a turf wall would be erected to shelter the side entrance—another experiment.
Such was progress on the pathway, except for Tracey and Paul, everyone else who was working outdoors was involved in helping with the shelters. There was some effort being made to get the second turf dwelling built because the third building was to be very special—a log cabin.
At breakfast, in a brief and extraordinary announcement, Calvin informed everybody about the patrol of the nearest part of the forest. He said that Sandy and Flint had uncovered signs of various animals but also indistinct footprints which appeared to be human. To quell excitement or panic, Sandy had suggested that Calvin mentioned the possibility of primates which had similar prints.
It was while a few questions were being asked that Bill casually suggested he might take a stroll over to the forest under cover of darkness. When people volunteered to go with him, he suggested that if he were solo, he would be less likely to frighten away whoever or whatever might be living nearby.
Bill said that Sandy and Flint would be out on the mountainside to look out for him until he arrived at the trees and was able to conceal himself. He made it all sound convenient and matter-of-fact. The two soldiers nodded their agreement that it was a straightforward thing to do.
By the evening, the free-standing shelter
with its two rooms built-in was complete except for the roof. It had taken many hours of hard work, and there was a sense of pride in what had been achieved.
The next day, a team would be assembled to fetch suitable timber from the edge of the forest to clean, trim and cut to size to make rafters for a sloping turf roof. One of the innovations suggested by Sandy was to use a laser pistol to trim the chosen timber. It was agreed that if the idea worked, it would save many hours of effort with the basic tools the community had at their disposal.
About two hours after the evening meal, most people were either in their living quarters with their children or relaxing in the canteen. Four members of the community had other plans.
Sandy and Flint went out and strolled down the pathway, pausing occasionally and pointing in random directions, sometimes at the forest and at other times the loch or the shelters down the hill where they were headed. Although to most people, it seemed like they were out for no other reason than an evening walk, they did hope to achieve one thing—create a distraction.
High up on the mountain, Fiona kissed Bill and urged him one more time to be careful as he left the glass balcony and set off to climb the first set of metal rungs. Before he commenced the climb, he drove his fingers into a patch of heather to gather some loose, damp earth. He then rubbed the soil on his face, behind his ears and on the back of his hands.
Bill was wearing the combat suit which had been in the bergen rescued by Sandy and Flint. Apart from the camouflaged outfit he had a belt strapped to his waist with two water bottles and a pouch with protein bars. Hanging around his neck and tucked inside his jacket was a pair of binoculars and he had a laser rifle slung over his shoulder.
Fifteen minutes after leaving the glass balcony, Bill was at the midway point between the two sets of recently cleaned metal rungs. Instead of using the second set to gain more altitude, he used his long-rested rock-climbing skills to move around the crags and overhangs. He was moving towards the back of the mountain. Good fortune smiled on him when he found an area heavily overgrown with heather. He left the rock face to move down along a wild ridge towards the northern perimeter of the massive forest.
It was two miles distant from Bill’s location. From his vantage point, he could already see the steep gradient where the pine trees were extending their territory up the side of the neighbouring mountainside. Bill knew that somewhere in that steep zone had to be the cave network which he was aiming to reach by last light.
Bill was confident that with his two friends in full view, there would be no reason for a casual observer to look up into the shadows and dense areas of heather and gorse. Nevertheless, through a professional pride which had never left him, the ex-Special Forces man stayed below the horizon. He moved painfully slowly along the gradient, ever on the lookout for movements ahead in the forest.
It was dark by the time Bill reached the edge of the vast woodland, and he paused for a few minutes when he was enveloped in the comfort of the forest. Fewer bird noises could be heard although owls were busier at this time than they were through the day. On silent, broad wings the silhouette of the occasional nocturnal hunter could be seen gliding between trees or swooping down on some unsuspecting tasty morsel. A slight commotion in the undergrowth and then all was quiet once again.
Bill already had his rifle brought around into position to use if necessary. He was content to squat with his back against a large tree for a while. It helped him in adjusting and blending in with his surroundings. Again, as had happened to him a lot in recent times, the memories of a hundred different missions came to mind. He’d completed tasks in which night-viewing goggles had been regarded as extraneous.
On those jobs, it had been a small team who carried weapons, enough water to survive and no more than a few dried ingredients as nutrition. There might have been a few days in a small ditch without as much as a hot drink. No, for Bill, this present mission was luxury—working alone, carrying water, dry snacks and a weapon. What more did a man need, except the reason for the job?
When Bill got up and moved forward, he was as stealthy as any creature within the woodland. Each step was taken slowly and deliberately to avoid cracking a twig or crunching through the bracken. Four or five careful steps and then a pause, as his head moved slowly from side to side, his nostrils alert to aromas. Bill’s gaze took in the shapes and shadows of the darkness as if it were daylight. He kept his lips slightly parted, which enabled him to hear more clearly, and he detected the occasional brushing sound of small creatures scurrying around in the undergrowth.
On a regular mission, it would have been sufficient to use pacing to judge distance. For this special occasion, Bill was counting on his night vision to be his best guide. Sandy had said that the area of hillside into which the caves were set was lighter in colour.
Bill also kept in mind what Sandy had said about the cave near to the one they’d investigated. It had a large bush apparently growing right in front. Sandy had noted that the lower branches of the bush were not attached to the ground—the bush was real, but it wasn’t growing, it was a shield. For that reason, Bill reckoned that when there was little chance of a visitor, the inhabitant of the cave might not have the temporary doorway in position. If so, there would be two cave entrances contrasting with the hillside.
It was the taste of woodsmoke in the back of his throat which caught Bill’s attention first, but this was rapidly followed by the distinctive fragrance. He maintained his crawling pace, and it was several minutes later when he picked up the long-absent aroma of roasting meat. To the best of his knowledge, he couldn’t recall any wild animal which cooked its food. The cooking smells were not being carried on a breeze but drifting, leaving no hint of direction to the source.
The strength of the smells assaulting his senses strengthened as he got closer and Bill’s next concern was about how cautious he ought to be. If this was who he thought, then she was much more than a person who knew how to build a shelter and fend for herself. Before getting too close, he rested against a tree. He considered how he’d defend the territory if he were in a similar situation. What came to mind did not bode well for unwelcome visitors.
Bill got within a few metres of the caves. Having been in the relative darkness for so long, the cave entrances were clear to him. He wanted to observe the area as carefully as possible but from downwind and within dense woodland which meant he’d have to pass the entrances. If he left a safe distance by going downhill and then across their front, there was the danger of leaving signs he’d been there. The woman might come out early in the morning and see something amiss.
Knowing he’d be out all night and time was on his side, Bill moved back whence he’d come, farther away from the area and climbed. He had to be careful not to loosen any rocks or branches. By using right angles, he was confident of going around the area to arrive on the other side.
He slung the rifle over his shoulder and attacked the gradient straight on, at times digging his fingers into the earth and other times grasping a tree and pausing to avoid noise. He climbed until he was sure of being at least fifty metres above the cave system and then he turned right and moved across the hill with similar stealth. At no time did Bill consider how long his detour might take. He made an occasional pause and adopted the technique used by leopards and other predators. He’d move one limb, stop and wait patiently for a minute or two before moving again.
By the time Bill arrived in his preferred area on the far side of the caves, he was happy with his efforts. He sipped water and then got down on his belly to crawl under the lowest branches of a large batch of pine trees. Although he had smeared dirt on his face and hands before leaving the upper levels of Auchcarn, some would have faded. He dug his fingers into the earth, and refreshed his camouflage, the dirt sticking to the perspiration on his face, ears and hands would be useful.
The ability to remain awake in such dark conditions takes fierce concentration but to do so without the back-up of a companion increases the eff
ort ten-fold. In the early hours of the morning, it was once again the drifting smell of woodsmoke which caught Bill’s senses and pulled him from the abyss—sleep. The stinging of his tired eyes and the aching of his ribcage reminded him that he was long out of practice at this type of surveillance.
.
Sunday 24th July
At some point in the darkness as tiny creatures crawled over Bill’s prostrate form, investigating this large, living organism under the trees, it became a new day. Brushing insects from hands and face was a pointless task. It served only to increase any perceived irritation, so Bill let them continue to explore and go on their way.
Meat was being cooked again, and the aroma drifted low in the woodland. Just as it had on the previous evening, for Bill, the smell resurrected memories of living in the wilderness by choice. Other men in his unit had taken their family on a flight to a country with white sandy beaches. Bill had opted for packing a bergen and heading to places where he could be alone—sites like the one he was watching.
The birds were first to create the sense of a new day dawning even before the area within the forest got any lighter. At first, there were some chirping sounds. They increased and next was the rhythm of birds of similar species having a chat over breakfast, either in the trees or on the forest floor. Creatures of the night were being reminded that perhaps they should be somewhere else as their shift was over and it was time for the species which prowled and hunted by day.
Less than fifty metres away from Bill’s position, there was a muffled noise. Nobody exited the open area of the cave but the large bush near the mouth of the second cave miraculously moved from where it was supposedly ‘growing’. A head came out slowly, like that of a wild creature, but it was a woman, a woman that Bill recognised even though her hair was long and dishevelled. The head disappeared inside, and then less than one minute later appeared again.