us whatever they have a surplus of. Last month we got two hundred pairs of chemical-and-biological warfare over-boots and a dozen gas masks . . . Are they simple to use?’
Stratton looked down at the tubes. ‘Well, yes - when you know how.’
‘You can show us?’
‘I came here to show you how to set up the claymores. ’
‘The what?’
‘They sent you several boxes of claymore anti-personnel mines. I was told to show a couple of your men how to set them up and then I’m on my way.’
‘Is it such a big deal to show the men how to fire these rockets as well?’
‘No. If you’ve got time,’ Stratton said with some reluctance. He had set his mind on getting going as soon as possible in the hope of making it to the border before the following evening.
‘We’ll have plenty of time when we get back to the camp,’ Victor said, walking off.
‘Hold on . . . excuse me,’ Stratton said, following him.
Victor stopped to shout at several men tying a box onto the back of one of the burros. ‘Quicker, you people. We need to leave.’ He turned to Stratton to hear what he had to say.
‘My task was to show your people how to set up claymores, but I was supposed to do that here at the drop. I’m leaving as soon as you guys do.’
‘We don’t have time to do any training here. We must pack up and go as soon as we can. What do you people think this is? We’re at war. Didn’t they tell you anything?’ Victor walked away.
‘Actually, no,’ Stratton muttered to himself. But he wasn’t going to give up so easily. He caught up with Victor as he was chastising a group of men who were having problems with one of the burros. ‘If we move away from here a couple of kilometres and take a break, I can run some training then.’
‘We don’t take breaks. We have to go as quickly as we can. It won’t be safe until we reach the camp,’ Victor said, walking away to resolve another crisis.
Stratton watched Victor go, realising that it was pointless to continue with the argument.
He had a decision to make.
He walked to the edge of the clearing, sat down and rested his carbine across his legs. He took the GPS from his pocket and turned it on. The decision he faced was either to follow the rebels to their camp as Victor had suggested, do the training and then leave, or to bug out right there and then. He could slip off into the jungle and probably no one would notice until they were ready to go, by which time he would be a couple of miles away.
But even as Stratton considered the options he knew that he would never be able just to walk off. Although he didn’t know anything about these people and would never see any of them again, he couldn’t leave as long as he knew there was a chance of someone getting hurt or worse because he wanted to get home a day earlier. He wasn’t happy about it but he would have to stay - for the time being, at any rate.
The GPS beeped. He logged the location, turned the GPS off and put it back in his pocket. Then he realised there was probably no point in leaving his emergency pack at this location if he was going to the rebel camp. It would be wiser to conceal it closer to their base.
Stratton shouldered his rifle and went back into the forest. Within a few minutes he was back with his emergency pack, which he tucked away into his large backpack.
Despite the obvious hardships they’d suffered the rebels seemed a happy enough bunch. He wondered how far away their camp was. On the flight he had studied a map of the country and had worked out that he could probably get to the border from the clearing in under two days, bearing in mind the terrain. Even if the rebels’ camp were a day further away it wouldn’t be such a big deal. Once he crossed the border it would be a simple case of dumping his kit, putting on civvies and travelling like a backpacker to Panama and the airport. He felt a little better about it now that he had adjusted the plan. It would be fine, he assured himself.
Stratton wondered why Sumners had offered him up for this job in the first