by Andy McNab
30
A second shockwave hit them as another explosion followed the first. Ethan had never heard anything like it in his life. He could smell burning in the air, his ears were ringing, and he could feel his teeth tingling, as if the shockwaves were jarring every last part of him.
‘What the hell are they using?’ he hissed. ‘Are the explosions supposed to be that big?’
‘Sam wants a diversion, that’s what he gets,’ said Johnny.
Ethan heard the sound of running feet. ‘Down!’ he hissed, and pulled Johnny further into the bush.
The two x-rays shot up from the cliff path, racing towards the explosion.
‘You really have to stop hugging me,’ said Johnny as Ethan let go of him again. ‘I’ve told you before, you’re not my type.’
‘And you’ve really got to start taking this seriously,’ Ethan replied. ‘I can’t be arsed with getting killed tonight.’ He looked around. ‘The path’s clear. Let’s go!’
Without giving Johnny a chance to argue, he bolted from the bush, dragging his friend with him. He gave a quick glance up towards where the explosions had come from. He could hear people running around in panic, screaming at each other.
Another explosion lit up the night, followed by the sound of gunfire.
‘Come on!’ shouted Ethan.
They took off down the path.
‘You climbed up that?’ said Johnny, glancing up at the cliff face rising above them. ‘You’re more of an idiot than I thought!’
‘You didn’t give me much choice,’ said Ethan as they raced onto the beach. The crunching of the pebbles and sand underfoot sounded like they were running over Rice Krispies.
Ethan took off his bergen, dropped it to the ground and opened it. He pulled out two large square packages and handed them to Johnny. Then he glanced at the sea. It was dark and oily and he could see the white crests of waves falling into each other. The sky was a thick canvas of black, speckled with stars and flecked with cloud, the moon high. Out there, he thought, is a submarine coming to lift me off this island. Is any of this really happening?
But there was no time to think about that now. Ethan turned to see Johnny opening one of the packages.
‘These are the canoes,’ he said. ‘Rip that one open, will you?’
Ethan knelt down and tore open the other package. He pulled out what looked like a bundle of tightly packed, rubberized canvas. ‘Please don’t tell me we have to blow these up ourselves,’ said Ethan.
Johnny laughed. ‘Automatic inflation,’ he said. ‘Like a life raft. They’re up in seconds. Pull that tab there.’
Ethan looked where Johnny pointed and saw a yellow strap. He pulled it hard and the canoe ballooned in front of him as air rippled through it.
‘Cool, eh?’ said Johnny. ‘Now put these together.’
He handed Ethan a pouch and opened another himself.
‘Paddles,’ he said. ‘They clip together like tent poles. See?’ He held up a finished paddle.
‘You look so proud.’ Ethan watched his friend clip together the remaining poles from the pouch to form a second paddle.
‘It’s the little things that keep me happy,’ said Johnny; then he stood up and pulled something from his own bergen. ‘I’m going to secure the area,’ he said.
‘Are they the Claymores?’ Ethan asked, having clipped together the poles in his own pouch to make two further paddles.
‘Yes. Nasty mix of explosive and ball bearings. If anyone comes in as we’re escaping, they’ll trigger them. Just be sure to look the other way if they go off. It’s not a pretty sight.’
‘Thanks for the advice,’ said Ethan, hoping he wouldn’t get to see one of the things in action.
Johnny ran off across the beach, keeping as low as he could. He set the Claymores and was back in a couple of minutes. Ethan wondered how he made everything look so easy, but as he came back, pebbles and sand exploded in a line across the canoes.
‘Down!’ Johnny screamed, and jumped on Ethan, throwing him to the ground.
Only then did Ethan hear the gunfire. ‘Someone’s shooting at us!’ he yelled.
‘Just keep your head down!’ Johnny shouted back.
Another strafe of bullets zipped past, and Johnny rolled Ethan and himself out of the way just in time.
Ethan could smell the tang of the bullets smashing pebbles as the crack of gunfire ripped the air apart. He could hear the rounds thumping into the sand – and feel them too, the shockwaves from the impact making the ground ripple like it was alive underneath him.
‘Too bloody close,’ screamed Johnny. ‘Less than a metre away to feel it like that. Keep fucking moving! We need to get back up that path. This exit is totally screwed!’
Ethan saw him glance up and down the beach to see where the shooting was coming from. The sea was behind them, the path somewhere in front.
‘Follow me,’ said Johnny. ‘Go where I go. I know where the Claymores are; you don’t. Got it?’
Ethan nodded and they crawled forward towards the path. He was soon able to make it out, carved into the cliff face. He willed himself on; forced himself not to think about the bullets flying above him or of the hidden mines somewhere on the beach.
Then more rounds came in. Johnny looked at Ethan and pointed left down the beach. ‘Two x-rays coming from over there,’ he yelled.
Ethan chanced a look and saw two men running towards them. One of them fired again, this time missing by a mile, thankfully.
‘Get your head down,’ shouted Johnny, grabbing Ethan and pushing him face-down in the sand, ‘or there’ll be nothing left of it but pink mist!’
As Ethan ducked, he heard one of the Claymore mines explode off to their left between them and the approaching x-rays. For a second it was like sheet lightning and the beach blasted into light; then the blaze was gone and they were back in moonlit darkness.
The sound was deafening, and Ethan looked up to see the bodies of their attackers falling through the air. He knew they were dead before they hit the ground. They hadn’t even had a chance to scream.
They pushed on. The path was only metres away now. Then came more shooting, this time from the right, and Ethan could see another two men charging towards them, yelling, firing.
He looked at Johnny, who reached into his pack and pulled out two grey canisters. He gave one to Ethan. ‘Pull the pin and throw it towards them!’ he shouted.
Ethan did exactly as he was told, and they both lobbed the canisters over.
There were two explosions, and the two men disappeared in a cloud of thick white smoke.
‘Move it!’ yelled Johnny, and Ethan chased after him as he heard more firing from behind.
They reached the bottom of the path and just kept on running. Somehow Ethan’s legs kept pumping hard – he didn’t know where the energy was coming from.
The cliff exploded around them as bullets ricocheted above their heads, sending out sharp splinters of rock. But Ethan didn’t feel a thing – he was focused on getting to the top of the path. He’d never run so fast in his life.
As they emerged at the clifftop, another explosion sounded from behind them on the beach. Ethan guessed what it was. ‘Another Claymore?’
Johnny nodded. ‘Horribly effective, I’m afraid.’ Then he squeezed the communicator round his neck. ‘Guys! Can you hear me?’
Ethan heard the voices of Luke, Kat and Natalya reply with a simple ‘Yes’.
‘Beach is shagged,’ said Johnny. ‘Meet at the watchtower in five.’
Ethan looked at him. ‘We’re BASE jumping?’
Johnny grinned. ‘Fun, this, isn’t it?’
31
Ethan wasn’t given a chance to argue: Johnny simply sprinted off, and he had to try and keep up.
They followed a wide arc around the ruins to the watchtower behind. Another explosion tore the air, and the light from it brought the castle into sharp focus. Ethan could see that the diversion was having the desired effect. Whoever had stolen th
e disk was now convinced they were under attack. Ethan could see that the way the explosions had been laid gave the impression that someone was firing explosive rounds at the ruins from the other side of the island – and getting progressively closer as they homed in on their target. X-rays were milling about, firing wildly in the direction they believed the explosions were coming from. They had no idea that they were just charges going off at set intervals.
The air was filled with the smell of burning and cordite and the sound of weapons’ fire and shouting. Ethan hoped the diversion had given Sam enough time to do what he had to do.
Then, as the flat ground disappeared and the ruins loomed up on their left, a man wearing an expensive leather jacket and carrying a weapon ran out through a gap in the walls and barged straight into Johnny. They both went down.
Ethan watched them tumble to the ground, rolling away from the ruins and towards the bushes that led to the cliffs. He heard the man’s gun clatter on some rocks and hoped that he’d dropped it, but then saw that he’d managed to keep hold of it despite the fall. The man scrambled to his feet, raised the weapon and took aim at Johnny.
Instinct kicked in and Ethan launched himself, feet first, at the man’s hand. Whether it was the sensible thing to do or not, he didn’t care; if he didn’t do something, he knew Johnny would be dead.
He heard bones smash as his foot connected with the man’s hand and sent the gun spinning off into the dark. There was a shrill scream. Ethan’s unexpected attack had given Johnny enough time to get to his feet and launch an attack of his own. But the man was quick, dodging to the right and catching Johnny, throwing him over and onto his back. Johnny cried out, briefly winded, and Ethan went in again with his other boot, this time to the man’s stomach. The guy doubled over and retched – just as something smacked into the side of his head with a dull thud. He fell backwards and hit the ground.
Ethan stared down at him, ready for another attack, but he wasn’t moving; blood was pooling beneath his head, leaking into the grass.
Johnny was on his feet again, looking quickly left and right. ‘Move it,’ he said, and grabbed Ethan’s arm to pull him on.
‘What happened?’ asked Ethan.
‘Stray bullet,’ said Johnny. ‘He was probably shot accidentally by one of his mates. But we have to get out of here. We don’t want to get caught in the crossfire either.’
‘It wasn’t a stray,’ said a voice from the ruins, and both Ethan and Johnny turned to see a large, familiar figure emerge from the darkness.
‘Sam,’ said Johnny.
Ethan spotted the machine gun in Sam’s hands. He even recognized what it was: an MP5 – as used by the SAS. Sam looked terrifying. Like the rest of the team, he was head to toe in black, his face streaked with grey and white camouflage, like bits of the night had snagged on him. His knuckles were bloodied. He was also wearing a small backpack that Ethan recognized as a BASE rig. He’d come prepared for every eventuality.
‘No time for pleasantries,’ he said. ‘We need to get to the watchtower now. Move it!’
Ethan felt Sam grab his shoulder and drag him away from the body. ‘Come on, Eth,’ he said. ‘Nothing you can do for him. Let’s go.’
Ethan forced his legs to move and fell into step behind Johnny. They ran round the castle ruins and soon reached the watchtower. Luke, Natalya and Kat were waiting for them.
‘What happened?’ asked Luke.
‘Must be another way to the beach,’ said Johnny. ‘Path was clear – we sorted the boats – then we were being shot at. Claymore took care of two x-rays. Two more chased us up the path. Then they ran into another Claymore. What about you?’
Luke made to speak, but then another explosion slammed across the island. Ethan was stunned by the sound of this one; it was the biggest of the night so far and thundered around them, the initial blast followed by a rumble of other smaller explosions. Everyone in the team ducked, half expecting to be covered in debris.
‘What the hell was that?’ asked Kat.
‘Wasn’t one of mine,’ Luke told her.
‘It wouldn’t be,’ said Johnny.
Everyone turned.
‘Let’s just say that they won’t be able to leave the island in a hurry,’ Johnny said smugly.
‘The helicopters!’ said Ethan. ‘ That’s where you went!’
Johnny nodded. ‘I took the P4 and some detonators from Nat just in case an opportunity presented itself. And the helicopters were a pretty big opportunity. Couldn’t resist it.’
The explosions continued to rattle on as the helicopters slowly disintegrated, ribbons of fire leaping into the air like dancers at a night-time rave.
‘Right,’ said Sam. ‘Time to go. Johnny? Luke?’
Ethan watched as Johnny and Luke slipped off their bergens and opened them, pulling out the BASE rigs and life-jackets and handing them to the rest of the team. As Ethan took his, he saw Sam pull a lifejacket of his own from a pouch on his belt.
‘The lifejackets will inflate on impact with the water,’ said Sam. ‘Each one has a beacon. When you hit the water, get out of your rig, locate the rest of the team and get into a circle. Luke, contact the sub and tell them what’s happening. They need to know we’re coming from the cliff, not the beach.’ He turned back to the others. ‘Ready?’
Ethan pulled on his rig and lifejacket. He double-checked every clip, holding the drogue chute in his hand. The last time he’d worn a canopy this small was when he’d flown a Raider. He remembered then how Johnny had described them – fast and scary. Much like what I’m doing now, he thought.
‘Let me,’ said Kat, and checked him over. ‘It’s not as difficult as it looks,’ she told him. ‘And these cliffs are way higher than the antenna Johnny and I jumped from. You’ll be fine.’
‘That makes me feel so much better,’ said Ethan with a nod, face deadly serious. He didn’t know whether to believe her or not. But it didn’t matter; he had no choice. If he didn’t jump from the cliff, he was dead. It was a no-brainer.
He turned, saw Sam looking at him.
‘So, Ethan, you ready for your first BASE jump?’
Ethan was about to answer when shots rang out, cutting him off. He turned, spotted a group of men charging towards them from the castle.
‘Move it!’ yelled Sam.
Johnny looked at Ethan. ‘Life’s too short not to!’ he said, turned and charged towards the cliff edge. He disappeared without a sound, then a loud whoop and the crack of the canopy opening told Ethan he was fine.
Kat went next, quickly followed by Luke and Natalya. Ethan heard each canopy grab air as they threw out their drogue chutes.
‘It’s a piece of piss,’ said Sam, looking at him. ‘Just run like hell, jump as far as you can, and throw out your drogue chute. Now go!’
Ethan remembered what Johnny had told him when he’d watched him and Kat do their BASE jump. He visualized it, did his best to recall what he’d seen through the binos as Kat had leaped into nothing. Suddenly shots peppered the ground near his feet. He didn’t think any more; he ran.
Then he was at the cliff edge and jumping into the darkness, chucking his drogue chute out as hard as he could. He expected to feel it grab air instantly, pull out his main canopy.
It didn’t.
It threw him head over arse. And now he was piling towards whatever rocks lay below him, head-first. This was nothing like a skydive.
He tumbled, tried to stabilize, but it didn’t feel right. He was falling too slowly. It felt like he’d fallen off a diving board. When the hell was he going to pick up enough speed to allow his drogue to grab air and pull out his main canopy?
Panic burst in Ethan’s skull. He forced himself to ignore it. He could hear the windrush getting faster – he was picking up speed.
But the increased speed still wasn’t enough: he still wasn’t stable.
Shit…
He ran through everything he’d done, from clipping the rig on, to jumping far enough from the cliff, t
o throwing out the chute. He’d done it to the letter. No detail missed. Not a goddamned thing.
I’m dead…
Then the canopy blasted open above him. He looked up, checked everything, steered himself away from the cliff. For a split second he forgot what he was doing and pulled a steering toggle too hard. He nearly turned himself back into the cliff. But his reactions were so sharp now that he pulled away in time. Moments later, he had the canopy under control and was zipping through the dark, the cold sea air clammy on his skin, leaving salt on his lips.
Above him, Ethan heard Sam’s canopy grab air. It was soon followed by the sound of gunfire from the clifftop. But there was nothing he could do about that now; he just had to get into the ocean and hope the sub found them all.
Ahead he spotted the rest of the team. The night was dying now and light was spilling over the horizon, making the sea visible below.
Another sound chugged into the air, and Ethan spotted the tiny dot of a boat heading out from the island. It was still a fair distance away, but the men were shooting anyway. They had obviously seen the team jump from the clifftop and were now heading directly for them.
More gunfire cracked through the air. Ethan could see that the boat was zigzagging across the water, and he guessed it was searching for them. He realized they couldn’t be seen – not yet anyway. But that didn’t stop him feeling helpless. Like the rest of the team, he had no choice but to keep on gliding until he touched down in the sea. Then he had to hope that the x-rays in the boat wouldn’t be able to find them before the sub arrived – and that the ones on the cliff couldn’t see them well enough to pick them off like fat geese.
Ethan heard a splash, quickly followed by three more. That meant that the only ones left in the air were him and Sam.
The boat was clearer now, no longer a dot, and he could make out two men in it. They had stopped zigzagging and were heading straight for the point where Ethan had heard the team drop into the water; they must have heard them too. They were on a collision course.
Without hesitation, Ethan pulled hard on his steering lines, altered course. He knew there was no point just piling into the water with the rest of the team. The men in the boat would be on them in a moment, and then they’d all be dead. He had to intercept the boat before it reached them. If he could get to it first and put it out of action, they’d have a chance of surviving till the sub arrived. It would be a gamble; he’d have to time it just right, come in fast enough to slam into the two x-rays and take them out of the equation. Perhaps it wouldn’t work. Perhaps they’d see him coming in and shoot him, but he figured it was better to die trying than to wait in the sea like a sitting duck. His friends were depending on him. That was all that mattered.