effectively,’ he began. ‘Then you’re going to become the teachers to everyone else. Do you think you can manage that?’
They all nodded.
‘They’re not complicated. The big issue, apart from being able to use them effectively against an enemy, is to make sure we don’t hurt ourselves or our buddies. So listen to everything I have to say, ask all the questions you want and, above all, make sure you understand everything about the weapons concerned. When I’m gone there’ll be no one else to ask. Okay?’
They nodded enthusiastically.
‘Good. Let’s go see the toys.’
‘Er, excuse me,’ Miguel said. ‘What do we call you?’
‘He’s called the mercenary,’ Eduardo said to Miguel as if he should have known that.
‘Stratton will do,’ Stratton said.
‘Stratton?’
‘That’s right,’ he said, heading down a track. Eduardo hurried ahead and led the way into the small wood Victor had shown Stratton earlier. On reaching the pallets the men stood back to let him select the boxes.
‘Let’s start with that one there,’ Stratton said, pointing to a box on the top of a pile. David and Carlos lifted it to the ground. Stratton unclipped its latches and swung the lid open to reveal a moulded plastic cover which he removed. Inside lay neat rows of hand-held rocket launchers. He lifted one out and, with a snap, deftly pulled it open into the armed position.
‘Wow,’ Umberto exclaimed, taking a step back.
‘Don’t worry,’ Stratton said, taking a long, slender dart-like object from inside the lid of the box. ‘This is a trainer. It has a non-explosive head. It’s what you had at the ambush - not like Miguel,’ he said.
The others laughed, much to Umberto’s dismay.
‘Let’s take a look in those two there,’ he said.
Miguel and Eduardo hauled down the boxes and placed them in line with the first.
‘Open that one,’ Stratton asked as he closed the launch tube and replaced it in the box alongside the others.
Miguel opened the box to reveal rows of claymore mines in their canvas sacks. He reached to touch one.
‘Stop,’ Stratton said sharply. ‘First rule of this lesson. Touch absolutely nothing unless I say so. Is that understood?’
The men recognised the seriousness of his words and acknowledged them.
‘Especially this,’ Stratton said, lifting out a black plastic box the size of a milk carton. It had a thick red tape around it with warning signs emblazoned on all sides. ‘These are the detonators that fire the claymores. They’re highly sensitive. You get these wrong and you won’t need to worry about getting anything else wrong ever again. You got that?’
They nodded.
‘Open that box,’ Stratton said, indicating the next one.
Miguel reached for the clips on the side of the box, unfastened them and pulled the lid back. He gripped the edge of the plastic moulding and as he raised it there was a metallic pinging sound and something flew out of the box into the air.
Stratton’s mind raced, desperate to remember what the sound meant. He had it before the object landed at his feet. He knew what it was even before he focused on the curved piece of pressed alloy three inches long and spoon-shaped at one end. It was still rolling on the muddy soil as he turned on his heels and yelled ‘Grenade!’ as loudly as he could.
The others did not react as fast. A second had ticked away before the horrible danger struck them and they began to turn away - all except Miguel. He stared in disbelief at the grenade nestled in between the tightly packed rows of military explosives. Only when it smoked and hissed as the fuse that ran down its centre began to burn towards the detonator did he make any effort to get away. His right foot slid on the soft ground as he planted the other heavily.
Stratton counted the third second instinctively in his head, straining to put as much distance between himself and the boxes as possible. Before the end of the fourth second he knew he had to be close to the ground. There was a tree only metres ahead of him and he threw himself down beside it. As he hit the ground he grabbed the base of the trunk and his momentum slung him around the back of it.
The explosion was massive - its force scooped Stratton up bodily and threw him through the bushes. His world lit up like a supernova and before he could come to a rolling stop he started to scurry madly along on his belly, knowing that there was