The machine gun ate hungrily into the ammunition belt that shuddered out of the feeder box, the empty casings flying into the air.
Rounds spat into the thin wall at the front of the helicopter and through both pilots beyond it, shattering the blood-stained windshields. Sparks flew from the holed instruments panel. The dead pilots released the controls, flopping in their seats, and the power went out of the rotors.
The weapon went suddenly quiet as the last link of rounds was consumed. The Haze’s engines had ceased to scream and although the rotors still turned their power was greatly reduced. The most dominant sound was the wind rushing in through the back and out of the smashed windows on the sides and at the front of the helicopter.
Stratton had killed them all, every last one of them.
The aircraft began to rotate as the tail rotor came to a stop, the gradually increasing rate of spin making it difficult for Stratton to climb back inside. He reached along the top of the gun and pulled himself in far enough to grab the framework from where he could get onto the deck.
Only then did he think of his travelling companion. A quick scan around suggested he had fallen out of the craft but then he saw the scientist’s hands wrapped around one of the door struts, the rest of his body dangling in the air, nothing below him but the Russian countryside. Stratton scrambled over to the side of the opening, hooked his arm around the bulkhead and reached down for Jason Mansfield.
The turning motion was making it increasingly difficult for Jason to hang on.
‘Grab my hand!’ Stratton shouted.
Jason needed both hands just to hold on. To relinquish one seemed to him to be fatal.
‘Now!’ Stratton yelled, his own position more than tenuous.
Jason went for it, pulling himself a little closer and lunging towards Stratton. The operative did not fail him. He gripped Jason’s wrist, planted a foot firmly against the door frame and pulled back with all the strength he had left. Both men rolled into the cabin as the spinning Haze fell. Fuel came cascading down the bulkheads from bullet holes in the ceiling that had punctured the tanks. As if they didn’t have enough problems, the smouldering instruments panel ignited and flames burst into the cabin from the cockpit.
Stratton could not see the ground rushing up towards them but it was clearly happening. ‘Get ready to take the impact!’ he shouted.
‘I admire your humour!’
‘If it doesn’t hit nose down we can survive it!’
‘Have you done this before?’
Stratton looked up at the cockpit. ‘Not on fire!’
Jason’s confidence was not improved by the comment.
The flames licked down the walls and the cabin began to fill with smoke. Fuel dripped onto Jason’s arm and caught alight. He rolled frantically across the floor as he fought to extinguish the flames. Burning fuel splashed Stratton’s boots and trousers. They might be roasted alive even before the helicopter crashed.
The sudden impact was tremendous. The wheels and undercarriage of the huge copter collapsed beneath it, crushed into the ground. The violent contact ripped away the open rear doors and the tail collapsed, the smaller rotor crashing down into the hard-packed snow. A huge snowdrift absorbed a great portion of the impact. Yet the Haze had come down on the incline of a hill so it tipped and rolled onto its side. The main rotors buckled like straws and the heavy chopper’s momentum took it down the slope. The two men inside it had been thrown flat by the force of the landing, then, as the cabin turned over, they had rolled up the sides and into the flames. As the rotor hub sank into the snow the craft skewed round so that the rear opening led the way downhill. It slid along like a great whale with its mouth open.
Stratton and Jason tumbled down into the snow that was being scooped inside the opening. It helped to extinguish some of the flames on their clothing but not all of them. As Stratton looked out the back he saw some kind of wooden structure covered in snow. They were going to hit it. Whatever it was. Yet right now outside was far better than in. ‘Go!’ Stratton yelled, clambering to his feet. He ran across the bulkhead towards the opening. Jason was up and behind him, both of them still alight. As they reached the opening the helicopter struck the wooden framework which disintegrated and the back of the chopper abruptly dropped as if it had broken through something.
The sudden fall hurled Stratton and Jason out of the back of the mangled Haze. As they braced for the ground it did not arrive. Because they had missed it. It became instantly dark and they continued to fall, both still ablaze, the wind fanning the flames on their clothing as they dropped into utter darkness. Neither of them could remotely comprehend what was happening. It was as though they had died and were accelerating straight into hell.
They could see nothing in the pitch dark by the time they struck the water like a pair of flaming meteorites. The force hit them like a hammer blow and they plunged beneath the surface, arms and legs flailing in desperation, fighting for their lives. Stratton pushed the water behind him madly, stroke after rapid stroke in the direction he thought was up. As his lungs tightened he burst through to the surface, thrashing around for something to grab. He couldn’t see a damned thing. His hand brushed a rough-textured wall and he did his best to cling to it. Jason spluttered to the surface somewhere nearby, thrashing around and gasping for air.
They held on to the sides of the cave or whatever it was, panting like exhausted hounds, the flames from above providing a small amount of illumination.
‘At least we’re not on fire any more,’ Stratton said, between breaths.
‘What is this?’ Jason asked.
The sides of the cavity were sheer, circular and rocky, like a vast cylindrical chimney a hundred feet high. As they looked up, the light above began to change subtly from white to orange. A sound drifted down to them, echoing off the walls, the sound of metal scraping on stone. Which was precisely what it was. The horrific reality struck them both at the same time.
‘Oh my God,’ Jason muttered.
The blazing helicopter was toppling into the chimney. It had nowhere else to go but down and in this narrow space that meant it would land on top of them.
Jason moved along the wall in a desperate effort to find something to hold on to as he stared up at their impending doom. He found an empty space. He felt around it quickly to discover edges on two sides and on top.
The helicopter was a tight fit in the shaft, though not quite tight enough to hold it in place. It came down towards them like a blazing lift. The increasingly loud noise it made as it scraped down the sides was horrendous. Yet the encroaching flames increased the light and Jason could see that what he took to be an indentation in the wall was a lot more. ‘A tunnel!’ he shouted.
Stratton had been considering diving down as deeply as he could to avoid the impact and flames and then hoping to find a way back up through or around the aircraft. But the tunnel was a far more attractive lifeline and he shot across the gap to join Jason who was already pulling himself inside. Stratton clambered in after him. The scientist stayed on his knees in the shallow water, catching his breath. Stratton did not stop and clambered ahead of Jason as if he was being pursued.
‘It’s not over!’ Stratton shouted.
Jason didn’t understand and quickly glanced back between the running operative and the tunnel opening.
‘The fuel tanks!’ Stratton yelled. The horizontal tunnel was barely high enough for him to run along at a crouch. The water came up to his knees.
Jason immediately understood what Stratton meant and thrashed forward in pursuit of the SBS man. It became pitch black as Stratton got deeper inside and he held a hand out in front of him for fear of bashing his head.
The sound of the helicopter’s carcass scraping down the shaft increased as it closed on the bottom. When it struck the water with tremendous force the tanks did indeed rupture as Stratton had predicted. The remaining fuel ignited and the resulting giant fireball had only two directions in which to expand. The surging flames r
olled into the tunnel in pursuit of the two men.
As the raging inferno reached their backs they threw themselves beneath the surface of the water that lit up around them. It lasted a few seconds before extinguishing itself.
The men broke the surface, sucking in the contaminated air and coughing and spluttering as they fought to recover from the seemingly endless sequence of near-death experiences.
The helicopter had not dropped below the surface of the water completely and flames continued to burn inside it, throwing some faint light into the tunnel.
The men looked at each other as they got to their feet, panting for air.
‘Is it over yet?’ Jason gasped, wondering if they would have to run from anything else in order to survive.
Stratton looked back at the burning helicopter as his breathing returned to normal. He had run out of adrenalin and the cold was creeping over him. Getting to the surface was all he could think of but he doubted they would be able to climb the main shaft. He would investigate further once the flames had died down.
He looked along the tunnel into the deep shadows, wondering where it led, if anywhere. He took a few steps, sceptical of just how useful the investigation would be in almost total darkness. The air was still and tasted dank as if it had not changed in years. His confidence that it led anywhere other than to an eventual dead end was not high. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light he thought he could see the faintest of red glows at the furthest extent of his vision.
Stratton took another few steps forward at the crouch, feeling his way by passing his fingertips along the ceiling of the tunnel. He paused to rub his eyes, wondering if they were playing tricks on him. The glow remained and he continued on towards it. It became stronger with each step and seemed not to be coming from a direct source but shining down into the tunnel from above.
As he felt his way along his hands moved higher and the cramped tunnel opened up into a small cavern filled with the red glow. He could stand upright. He had found the source of the light, a robust bulb inside a wire housing fixed to a metal box. Much more significantly, the light was fixed above a steel door set in a concrete frame that sealed off the tunnel. The door was covered in rivets and a coat of rust but it looked so thick that it would take centuries for the corrosion to eat all the way through. Encouraging though the presence of the door was, it looked like it hadn’t been opened in years.
‘Jason.’ His voice echoed around him.
Jason lay slumped, staring at the flames and wondering what they were going to do next. He looked around to see that Stratton had gone and his voice was coming from far away. The scientist lifted his bent body and made his way into the darkness.
When he saw the red glow he speeded up, his hopes lifting at a vague possibility. A solution to their dilemma. When he reached the cavern he stood alongside Stratton and stared in amazement at the light. He could see no handles on the door. However, a line of sturdy hinges down one side indicated that it could open, in theory at least.
‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ Jason asked.
‘The laboratory.’
‘Is it possible?’
‘The helicopter could easily have covered the distance.’
‘Do we want it to be possible?’ Jason asked, touching the door. He was wearing a grin. ‘This is too crazy.’
‘It’s some kind of secure emergency exit. Unless the Russians have other underground installations in the area, I’d put money on this being the lab mine.’
‘Why put an emergency exit into a tunnel like this?’
‘The place was a chemical and biological warfare lab. Anywhere would be better than inside if there was an accident. Maybe there’s a way from here to the surface.’
‘Or perhaps it’s another way of getting back into the lab if they had to.’
‘Whatever it is, I would like to know what’s on the other side of it . . . more so in a couple of hours from now when we could be freezing to death.’
Jason climbed the wall a few feet in order to inspect the box that the light was attached to. He pulled a side of the ageing box open to look inside. ‘It’s a sensor,’ Jason decided. ‘My guess is it’s a trigger. To warn if it’s opened.’
It made sense to Stratton. But it wasn’t much of a solution even if it was the lab. The occupants wouldn’t exactly welcome them with open arms. That was assuming they could get inside at all.
Jason pushed his fingers inside the gap as if feeling for something inside. There was a spark and he yelped in shock, snatching back his hand and jumping into the water.
The light began to blink on and off in a regular rhythm. Silence fell as the men stood in the glow of the flashing light, the water up to their knees. They looked at each other.
Jason shrugged apologetically. ‘I think I tripped something.’
The obvious question was: stay, or get out of there? Take the opportunity, or not? If they couldn’t get out of the tunnel any other way they would die, and none too pleasantly either. Getting recaptured might not be a whole lot better but it could mean that their demise would be a whole lot later. And time allowed for opportunities.
Yet as they stood there the minutes ticked away. Nothing happened.They waited. And waited. Hoping someone would come to the door and investigate. But this was Russia, of course. And they were miles from nowhere and the Cold War was over. No one was going to come.
Then, as if to prove it, the light stopped flashing and went back to glowing normally.
Stratton could no longer feel his feet. He estimated hypothermia would set in within twenty minutes or so. They would experience a surge of energy, perhaps even a sense of invulnerability, and then fatigue would set in. Their legs would give out and they would kneel in the water. That would speed things up but by then they would be delirious. They would die soon after. Their bodies might not be found for years, if ever. Their bones would rest beneath the water. With no identity on them they would be a couple of unexplained skeletons. It would remain a mystery to London too, another Buster Crabb story.
‘Would they send someone else, do you think?’ Jason asked. He wasn’t particularly interested in events that might occur after his death but a conversation might ease the pain of the cold a little.
Stratton didn’t care.
They remained silent for another minute, hoping to hear a sound from the other side of the door. But still no one came. It was so quiet that each man could hear his own heart beating in his chest.
‘I used to be afraid of the dark when I was a child,’ Jason said. ‘Were you?’
‘No. I always knew what was out there.’
Jason looked at the operative bathed in the red glow from above. ‘I’ll be honest about something. Not because this may be the only opportunity to say it. Do you know why MI16 was going to take over certain operations that your lot and the SAS consider their own?’
‘No.’ It was something else Stratton didn’t care much about.
‘We’re smarter than you, by a long way. We’re more accomplished athletes. I’d wager we’re probably all better shots than you.’
‘You think that’s all it takes?’
‘You have military experience, I grant you that, but we’re not talking about those kinds of operations. Take this one, for instance. All of it, from the beginning. None of it was a success. Your skills have only led to failure at every turn. You practically sank the platform with your arrival. Binning escaped with the tile. And we’re probably going to die in this tunnel, leaving the rest of the operation a failure.’
‘You would have done it differently?’
‘I would have reacted differently, sure - more intelligently, less like a bull in a china shop. Rowena was right. All you’ve ever been in your career is lucky. And it looks like that luck has finally run out.’
Stratton absorbed the insults. He even appreciated the conversation. It took his mind off the discomfort. Jason Mansfield might even have a point, he thought. He was right about the results. ‘It’s mo
ot now.’
‘I don’t agree. Yes, this situation has put MI16’s plans back but the fundamental reasons why it’s necessary remain. My place will be taken and it will eventually happen.’
‘Jason, I was going to say this to you anyway. You’re a wanker. It’s not so much what you say, it’s the way you say it.’
Jason’s eyes narrowed. ‘I have an idea,’ he said, moving through the water to the middle of the cavern. ‘Maybe we should fight it out, here and now. See who’s the best. It’d keep us warm for a bit, at least. What do you say?’
Stratton simply looked at him in the glow of the light.
Jason moved closer to Stratton, shrugging his arms and turning his neck as if loosening up for a fight. ‘Come on. Let’s do it. To the death. Neither of us has anything to lose. None of your colleagues will know you were beaten by a mere scientist. Come on.’
Jason adopted a fighting stance and moved within range of Stratton. The operative remained still.
‘Take a punch. Or are you a counter man? Is that it?’
Jason jabbed at Stratton who moved enough to avoid the strike that was only intended as a probe anyway. Jason followed it up with another blow that struck Stratton on the shoulder. The scientist’s next punch was far stronger and hit Stratton hard in the chest. Stratton lunged at him, taking only a step, his heart not in it.
Jason kept his side-to-side stepping routine going, sloshing around in the water. ‘That’s it. Come on. Now hit me.’
Stratton was growing more irritated than angry but still not enough to be drawn in.
Jason dummied with one hand and struck Stratton in the face with the other, hard enough to send his head back. Stratton’s mounting anger went up a couple of notches.
Jason danced left and right. ‘You’re going down if you don’t defend yourself,’ he warned. ‘I sincerely plan on killing you. It’s something I often contemplated, ever since I began karate. What would it be like to kill someone using my bare hands? What better subject than you?’
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