by Chris Ryan
The captain’s face was momentarily a picture of indecision. But then he turned to one of his crew and barked: ‘Get the medics here. Now!’ The crew member scurried away. ‘I’ll update Whitehall,’ he said, before turning on his heel and marching back towards the bridge.
‘You do that,’ Danny muttered. He looked over the side. Spud hadn’t moved. It was up to Tony to help the remaining kids out of the hull.
‘We should check Santa and Rudolph are secure,’ Caitlin said.
Danny didn’t take his eyes off Spud and Tony. ‘They’re not going anywhere,’ he said. ‘The Marines can take care of them for a bit.’ He raised his weapon and directed it down on to the Ocean Star. As he did so, he could feel Caitlin’s eyes on him.
‘It was just an accident,’ she said, rather uncertainly. ‘Tony wouldn’t—’
‘Tony wouldn’t what? There’s nothing Tony wouldn’t do. You should remember that. And don’t take your eyes off them, OK?’
Danny was only half aware of the movement of personnel behind him on deck. He trusted the Marines to keep the frightened migrants in order. He stood like a grim statue, looking down on to the Ocean Star, the beam of his Surefire torch diffusing into the rain-filled night. Caitlin was three metres to his left, doing the same. Down on the deck of the smaller boat, Spud had got the remaining children to sit cross-legged by the wheelhouse while he stood sentinel beside them, as motionless as Danny, his weapon pointed towards the open section into which Tony had disappeared.
Five minutes passed. There was no sign of Tony, and no word from him. The sea state was getting rougher. The rain harder. Danny couldn’t have been wetter if he’d jumped into the ocean. But still he didn’t move. What the hell was taking Tony so long? From his vantage point, Danny saw the occasional flicker of Tony’s torch down in the hull. How long could it take him to search such a small area?
Tony suddenly appeared back on deck. The unit leader looked across at Spud, then up at Danny and Caitlin, who had their weapons trained on him. Danny couldn’t see Tony’s expression, but there was something in the way he hesitated for a moment that told him he knew he was being observed.
‘Smells worse than an anchovy’s cunt down there,’ Tony’s voice came over the radio, ‘but it’s clear. Start sending them back down.’
Danny barely moved. He just turned his head to look at Caitlin. ‘Do it,’ he said. Then he went back to covering the Ocean Star in general, and Tony in particular. He didn’t care if it looked suspicious that he had his rifle aimed at his unit leader. And he didn’t care that Caitlin had to help the terrified migrants back down the precarious rope ladder by herself. Spud had asked him to watch his back, and he was going to do just that.
It took a full thirty minutes to cross-deck the migrants again. It was grim work. None of them wanted to get back on to the Ocean Star. Many were sobbing. Some implored Caitlin to let them stay on the naval vessel, but they had their orders from Whitehall: every last migrant was to return to the boat. It left a bad taste in Danny’s mouth watching Tony force the kids back down into the dark, cramped hull. He wondered if Tony gave a shit, and as he kept his rifle trained on Tony’s back, he found his forefinger twitching occasionally on the trigger . . .
‘That’s the last of them,’ Caitlin said, as a tearful young woman made her way down the rope ladder. Danny glanced over to the isolation area. Sure enough, it was empty. Down on the Ocean Star, the crowd of migrants were face down on the deck again, being pelted by the rain. They were caught, surely, in the middle of their worst nightmare. Danny found himself hoping that they hit land safely, and soon. But he reckoned some of them wouldn’t make it through another night.
It was time for Spud and Tony to get back on to the Enterprise. Spud climbed the ladder first. Tony stood at the bottom looking up at Danny, who made no attempt to hide that he was aiming his weapon directly at him. Once Spud was safely over the railings, Danny felt himself relax, just a little. His mate was out of Tony’s reach, for now. Danny kept watching Tony, though, as he pulled a knife from his ops waistcoat and with several easy slashes cut the netting, then the ropes that bound the Ocean Star to the Enterprise. In the split second before the two vessels separated, he leapt from the smaller boat and caught hold of the rope ladder. He scaled it quickly and efficiently, and moments later he was hauling himself over the railings of the Enterprise and on to deck.
A fresh wave of driving rain lashed down on them. Danny stepped up to Tony, his chin jutting out. ‘What the hell?’ he hissed at him. From the corner of his eye he could see the Ocean Star drifting away surprisingly quickly. There were already fifty metres between them.
‘What?’ Tony’s voice was aggressive, but he didn’t seem to want to meet Danny’s gaze.
‘You know.’
‘It was a successful op. Where are Santa and Rudolph?’ He looked over Danny’s shoulder, towards the far starboard side of the deck where three Marines were holding the two targets at gunpoint. ‘Caitlin, come with me. We’ll move them to the SF room, then get on the blower to base.’
He strode off, clipping Danny’s shoulder with his own as he walked. Danny watched him go. Spud and Caitlin, standing just a couple of metres away, did the same.
‘He tried to slot me,’ Spud said. ‘The cunt actually tried to slot me.’
Danny was still vaguely aware of the Ocean Star in his peripheral vision. It had drifted a hundred metres away now, and its lights were occasionally bobbing out of sight among the rough waves. But most of his attention was on Tony, who was striding towards the prisoners with his arrogant swagger, as if nothing untoward had happened.
‘You joining your boyfriend?’ Danny asked Caitlin.
‘Either of you two call him that again,’ Caitlin said, ‘I’ll slot you myself.’
‘Just go with him. Watch the prisoners. We’ll go to the bridge, get on the radio to HQ. Hammond needs to know what’s—’
He was interrupted by the sound of an explosion. It was a distant sonic boom, coming from the port side of the ship, and almost drowned out by the competing noise of the rain, the waves and the hum of the engines. But Danny could instantly tell where its source was. He spun round to look out towards the Ocean Star. Spud and Caitlin did the same thing.
There was no sign of the light in the wheelhouse of the boat. Danny yanked a spotting scope from his ops waistcoat and quickly scanned along the horizon. At first his field of view was taken up by a dark, shadowy confusion of waves and dark, stormy sky. But after a few seconds he located the boat.
Or what was left of it.
‘It’s sinking,’ he said tersely.
And it was sinking, rapidly. Its stern was completely submerged, and Danny estimated that no more than five metres of the aft deck were still peeking above the water.
‘Those kids,’ he heard Caitlin whisper. And by the time she’d said it, Danny had lost sight of the Ocean Star completely.
He lowered his scope, then turned to look across the deck towards Tony.
‘What did Tony have in that rucksack?’ Danny repeated the question that he knew none of them could answer. And before any of them could speak, he started sprinting across the deck to where Tony was in the middle of roughing up the two prisoners, while their Marine guards stood helplessly by. Danny grabbed him just as he was planting a fist into Rudolph’s guts, and swung him round so that they were facing each other. He instantly saw something wild in Tony’s face and he knew, without doubt, what was coming. Tony jabbed the heel of his hand up towards the centre of Danny’s face, but Danny was fast enough to knock it out of the way. ‘What did you plant on that boat?’ Danny hissed.
Tony sneered. ‘What are you talking about?’
Danny was about to reply, but realised that Spud, Caitlin and the captain had surrounded him. ‘What was that explosion?’ he barked. ‘What the hell’s going on?’
Tony had a maddeningly smug look on his face. ‘Rudolph and Santa must have had explosives on board. Guess we missed them.’
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sp; He looked at Caitlin, clearly wanting backup. He didn’t get it. Caitlin gave him a hard stare. For a moment, Tony’s eyes tightened. He bore a fleeting look of genuine madness.
Caitlin took a step away from him, towards Danny and Spud. ‘You’re out of order, Tony,’ she said.
Silence. Tony gave her a death stare, but she just jutted her chin out.
Then Tony shrugged. The death stare gave way to an expression of nonchalance. ‘Those stinking migrants would have died a shitty death anyway. Rough seas like this, they wouldn’t have made it through the night.’
‘Is that all you’ve got to say about it?’ Caitlin flared.
‘Tony,’ Danny cut in. ‘Get the prisoners to the SF room. Caitlin, go with him.’ And when Caitlin looked momentarily uncertain about being alone with Tony, he added: ‘Take a couple of Marines with you.’
‘I’m the one giving the instructions,’ Tony spat back. But then he looked at Spud and Caitlin, who had flanked Danny and were mutinously staring him down. It was very obvious that the balance of power had just shifted.
There was a tense silence. Danny and Tony locked gazes. Tony broke away first. He grabbed Rudolph roughly and started dragging him across the deck. ‘Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid,’ Danny told Caitlin. She gave him a sour look, then grabbed Santa and followed Tony.
The ship’s captain was storming down from the bridge through the rain towards them ‘Did you sink that boat?’ he demanded. ‘It was full of children . . .’
Danny avoided the question. ‘I need a secure line to Hereford. Private room. Can you sort it?’
The captain paused, his face livid. Then he nodded. ‘There’s a radio room off the bridge. Follow me.’
As they entered the bridge, Danny felt the hard stares of the ship’s crew on them. The sinking of the Ocean Star had obviously shocked them, and Danny could tell they held the SAS crew responsible. Danny shut it out. He and Spud stood to one side of the bridge while the captain took his radio operator into an adjoining room. Two minutes later he reappeared and nodded at them.
‘It’s all set up,’ he said tersely. His opinion of the Regiment unit was clearly in line with his crew’s.
Danny and Spud strode into the adjoining room. It was small – five metres by five – with two chairs and a table for the comms equipment. Danny turned to the captain. ‘Encrypted?’
The captain nodded.
‘We’ll call you if we need you,’ Danny said. The captain’s cheek twitched, but he took the hint and left the room. Danny turned to Spud. ‘Guard the door,’ he said. ‘I’ll make the call.’
Spud hesitated for a moment, but then left the room, closing the door behind him.
Danny grabbed the radio. ‘This is unit Charlie Alpha Zero,’ he said.
There was a hiss. ‘Go ahead Charlie Alpha Zero. This is Hereford.’
Danny recognised the voice of their ops officer, Ray Hammond. ‘OK, boss,’ he said. ‘How about telling us what’s going on?’
‘Have you acquired the targets?’
‘Roger that. We also seem to have sent a boatful of migrants to the bottom of the Med.’
A pause.
‘Is Tony there?’
‘Negative. He’s watching Santa and Rudolph with Caitlin. Boss, we’ve got a situation—’
‘Are there any survivors on the Ocean Star?’
Danny sniffed. ‘No. Was it Tony?’
Another pause.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Black. Ships sink. Happens every day.’
‘You think I wasn’t up to carrying out an order?’
Danny fell silent. If his suspicions were correct, what he’d just witnessed was a borderline war crime. Sure, the Regiment was expected to carry out some dark operations. Danny had done it himself. But there were a hundred kids on that boat. Would he have carried out that order? Maybe not. Would Tony? Without question.
Did he want Tony on the team? No way.
Danny took a moment to gather his thoughts. ‘We’ve got a problem.’
‘What?’
‘Spud and Tony. This is off the record, but I’ve just found out Spud’s been nailing Tony’s missus.’
Hammond swore. ‘What is it with Spud? Can’t he keep his fucking salami to himself?’
‘That’s not all, boss. I think Tony just tried to whack Spud and pass it off as an accident.’
Silence. Danny found himself holding his breath. He knew that if he’d made that accusation of anyone else, nobody would believe him. But everyone knew about Tony Wiseman. ‘I saw it happen,’ he pressed when Hammond failed to reply. ‘They’re at each other’s throats. And Caitlin looks like she wants to murder him too. The unit’s not functioning.’
‘Alright, Black,’ Hammond retorted suddenly. ‘I’ve got the message.’ There was another brief pause. ‘You, Spud and Caitlin are to accompany Santa and Rudolph to the interrogation centre in Malta. We’re sending instructions through to the Wildcat flight crew to get you there now. When you arrive, you’re to stay in on the interrogation. I want you to hear what these fuckers have to say first-hand. And Black.’
‘What?’
‘Keep a close eye on Spud. He’s been at the receiving end of more than his fair share of field interrogations. The military shrink flagged it up before I put him back on ops. You’re heading to a black camp in Malta. He won’t like it.’
‘Spud will be fine. What about Tony?’
‘I’m going to reassign him.’
‘Where?’ Danny asked, a feeling of cold satisfaction creeping up on him. And even though he was soaking wet and more than a little pissed off, he couldn’t help but allow himself a small smile when Hammond explained what was in store for Tony over the next few days.
Tony blinked at him. ‘What?’ he demanded.
They were standing in the SF room. The two prisoners, still hooded and cable-tied, were lying face down on the floor, unable to see or hear anything that was going on. And Danny was relaying, practically verbatim, what Hammond had told him. ‘Yellow Seven,’ he said.
Tony stared at him.
‘Hammond said the royals have been on at the MoD for days, trying to get a Regiment man out to Dubai to escort him back home for Christmas.’ He turned to Caitlin. ‘The royals are a bit like that about the SAS,’ he said. ‘Seem to think we’re their personal bodyguards. Anyway, turns out Hereford kept stonewalling them, saying they didn’t have a man spare.’ He gave Tony a cool look. ‘Looks like they’ve changed their minds. Unit command passes to me. You’re to wait on board for a chopper to airlift you back to Sigonella. They’ll fly you out to Dubai from there.’
Tony’s neck had flushed red. He fronted up to Danny. ‘You’ll pay for this, Black.’ For the briefest moment, he looked genuinely insane.
‘Not my call,’ Danny breathed. ‘Blame the headshed, not me.’
Tony’s eyes narrowed. He looked like he was about to say something, then thought better of it. He pushed past Danny and over towards Spud. ‘Touch my missus again,’ he breathed, ‘you’ll find yourself wishing I’d released that fucking round two seconds earlier.’
‘Easy Tony,’ Spud said. ‘You’re a royal flunky now.’
Tony turned to Danny, and pointed to Caitlin. ‘I suppose you’ll want to get stuck in with her, now I’m off the scene,’ he said.
‘Go to hell, Tony,’ Caitlin spat.
Silence. Then Tony turned his back on them and headed to the exit of the SF room.
‘Wait,’ Danny instructed.
Tony stopped and turned slowly, his face filled with utter hate.
‘Whitehall are spinning the Enterprise crew your little story that our two targets must have left bomb-making equipment on the boat. Trouble is, they’re not stupid. Take my advice, Tony: don’t wind them up. A few of the crew were looking like they wanted to send us the same way as the migrants. We’d all hate for anything bad to happen to you.’
‘The hell you would,’ Tony muttered. He strode up to Danny. ‘You�
��re going soft, Danny Black,’ he said. ‘Everyone knows it. It’s that baby of yours. I’ve seen it happen a million times. You reckon anyone else in the Regiment would give a flying fuck about a boatload of ragheads?’ He sneered, then turned his back on Danny and stormed out of the SF room, slamming the door behind him.
Caitlin was staring at Danny. ‘Remind me never to get on your bad side,’ she said.
‘He had it coming,’ Danny said.
‘Did he sink that migrant boat?’
‘I don’t know. The headshed stonewalled me.’
‘You want to watch him, Danny. I know what he’s like. He’ll go off like a frog in a sock next time he sees you.’
‘I can deal with Tony,’ Danny said. He looked over to where the two prisoners were laid out on the floor. ‘Let’s move them to the Wildcat,’ he said. ‘The headshed wants us off the ship as soon as.’
Spud and Caitlin did the honours, pulling the two targets up to their feet. One of them said something in muffled Arabic. Spud jabbed him in the stomach with his elbow, just hard enough to wind him. The man doubled over, but didn’t speak again as Spud and Caitlin dragged them out of the room, following Danny towards, and then up, the metal staircase.
There was no sign of Tony on deck, which was still clear of regular naval crew. The lights of the Wildcat were beaming, and Danny could see the shapes of the flight crew in the cockpit, ready to leave. The captain was standing to one side of the landing deck, his wet hair blowing in the wind. Danny strode up to him. ‘We’re leaving one of our guys with you,’ he shouted over the noise of the helicopter’s rotors, which were just starting up.
The captain nodded. ‘We’ve just had a communication to say there’s a chopper on its way from Sigonella to pick him up.’
‘A word of advice,’ Danny shouted. ‘Don’t let any of your men rub him up the wrong way.’
‘Noted,’ the captain replied. He held out one hand. ‘I owe you an apology. Whitehall explained what happened to that boat. Explosives on board. A bad business.’ He looked across the deck to where Spud and Caitlin were bundling Santa and Rudolph into the Wildcat. ‘I don’t know where you’re taking those two, but I hope they get what’s coming to them.’