The mine, or laboratory, appeared to be a series of interconnecting halls dug out of the rock. A hundred miles of piping and conduits of all sizes wound along the ceilings and through the walls. Some halls housed pumps and generators while in others sat collections of weird-looking storage vats and drums of differing sizes and colours. The entire place had a feel of decay, as though it was in serious need of reconstruction, with chipping paint, broken fixtures and mildew everywhere. At intervals along the connecting tunnels between many of the halls stood airtight steel doors like those in a bank vault, so heavy that they could only be moved by hydraulic rams.
The wooden door to the pump room opened and Stratton and Jason looked up to see a grim-faced Russian officer in casual uniform walk in. He glanced at the soldier and then at the two Englishmen before stepping aside from the doorway to allow the man behind him into the room. Binning.
Stratton and Jason weren’t entirely surprised. During the time they had spent waiting they’d wondered if such a meeting might take place.
Binning wore a white technician’s coat and a smarmy grin as he put his hands on his hips and planted his feet astride. ‘Well, well, well. This is a surprise. I can’t tell you how stunned I was to hear the descriptions of the men they had found lurking in the tunnels. How the hell did you end up there?’
Neither man answered.
‘I just know you had something to do with the helicopter that crashed almost right on top of us. I can’t wait to hear how that all came about . . . Major,’ he said, addressing the officer. ‘This is John Stratton, British special forces. And this is Jason Mansfield, my boss, or should I say former boss, from MI16.’
The officer looked at the men with a hint of satisfaction in his eyes.
‘I suspect they came here to take back the tile,’ Binning mused. ‘Or kill me. Or both. What do you say, chaps? Does that about sum it up?’
Both prisoners remained stone-faced as they stared at the traitor.
‘Major, would you be good enough to unchain this one?’ Binning asked, indicating Jason.
A frown formed on the officer’s brow. ‘By what authority?’ he asked.
‘Can I remind you I have been given the equivalent rank of lieutenant colonel? Okay, it’s not yet official but that’s just a matter of procedure.’
The major still didn’t move.
Binning sighed. ‘Major, all I have to do is make a phone call and someone whose rank you do respect will simply order you to do it. Now do we have to go through all of that, and get someone annoyed with you? You have guards, you have guns. He doesn’t. Just do it, please.’
The officer gave a brief order to the soldier who handed him his weapon and walked over to Jason Mansfield. He took a key from his pocket and unlocked the padlock connecting the chains that secured Jason to the bracing.
The chains dropped to the concrete floor and Jason rubbed his wrists where the metal had chafed them. He looked into Binning’s cold eyes as the man walked slowly towards him.
‘A few tense and interesting moments but we got there in the end,’ Binning said, his face cracking into a broader smile.
Mansfield’s face broke into a matching grin and the two men embraced, hugging each other strongly as they laughed heartily.
‘You look well,’ Binning said, moving back to take a look at Jason. ‘Bit cold and wet but in good shape, considering.’
‘You have no idea,’ Jason said. ‘I tell you, there’s the easy way of doing things and then there’s Stratton’s way. Dear God, it was utter madness at times. Between that damned platform and getting here I think I used up all my spare lives.’
‘Let’s get you a change of clothes and a hot meal.’
‘Tell me you had the decency to procure a fine malt,’ Jason said, taking a step with Binning towards the door.
‘Part of the deal, old boy.’
They both laughed out loud as they walked.
Halfway across the room Jason stopped to look back at Stratton. ‘Shocked, Stratton?’
The operative was stunned but did not show it.
‘Come on, man. Say something. Your face is almost worth the whole caper.’
‘You’ve been planning this a long time, I suppose,’ Stratton said.
‘A couple of years. It was complicated. Binning and I play three-dimensional chess. We’re practically unbeatable. This was every bit as complex. You see,