a greater priority - placed it against his ear and touched the desk screen to activate a connection. ‘This is Jason . . . I understand . . . Yes, of course. That’s what we’re here for.’
He put down the headset as Stratton reached the door. ‘Stratton. I think you’ll want to hear this. That was a call from London.’
Stratton stopped at the word ‘London’. That probably meant the call had nothing to do with this rubbish. He looked at the scientist.
‘Somebody hijacked an oil platform in the North Sea early this morning. They’re holding some hundred and sixty-plus workers to ransom. An SBS team is on its way here to pick up the G43.’
‘When will they be here?’ Binning asked.
‘They’re in the air. Any time.’
‘Is that all they need?’ Now Binning was completely methodical - his job was to liaise with outside units who needed equipment.
‘That’s all they’ve asked for. But stand by for updates.’
Stratton released the door handle. He wasn’t sure how the news directly affected him but felt he should stick around and see what developed . . . as long as that bloody bitch Rowena kept away from him.
A gentle yet persistent buzz filled the air and a small light flashed above one of the flatscreens on the office wall. Jason used a remote to turn it on. Several split-screens displayed various parts of the compound as seen through a collection of closed-circuit television cameras. He selected one of the views, enlarging it to fill the screen. The camera moved skyward where it picked up a helicopter.
Stratton looked at the screen. It was an SBS Chinook, unmistakable, like a thick, short sausage with rotors on either end. A letter and a pair of numbers flashed on the screen and moved to a corner where they continued to blink.
A voice crackled over speakers. ‘India one-six, this is Whisky four-zero, clearance code Golf two-zero.’
The code the pilot had given matched the one on the screen.
‘India one-six affirmative. You’re clear to land,’ Jason said.
‘Roger that. Thirty seconds.’
Stratton suspected that Chaz and the standby team were on board, probably acting as the advanced recce team preparing surveillance for an assault team, whenever the lads could get back from Afghanistan. He wondered why he had not received a call from SBS HQ. The visit to MI16 was not a priority of any kind. They’d certainly known about this hijacking before he had arrived. Maybe Mike had been serious and they were resting him.
He put the thoughts aside as the powerful helicopter closed in on the landing pad.
Rowena glanced at the screen as if she was only half interested.
‘They’ll no doubt be in a hurry,’ Jason said. ‘Better get down to the airlock and meet them as they clear.’
‘You coming, Rowena?’ Binning asked as he started out of the door.
‘If there’s anything you can’t handle give me a shout.’ She seemed pissed off with him too.
Binning chose not to make the half-expected answer and put her from his mind as he went out.
The helicopter settled onto the pad and the cabin door opened. Men in black one-piece fireproof suits climbed out. Stratton recognised Chaz.
The heavy angled sheets of steel that Stratton had seen began to slide open. A red light to the side flashed and a sign lit up stating ‘ENTER THIS WAY’. The six men filed through the opening while the pilots and the crewman remained on board the Chinook. As the last man passed through the heavy steel door it began to close.
‘I take it you know these men?’ Jason asked.
Stratton was not ready to act as if all that had been said before had been forgotten.
‘Shall we go down and greet them?’ Jason asked. He walked off through the room. Rowena hadn’t moved so, rather than remain with her, Stratton set off after Mansfield. It would be a relief to meet Chaz and the boys.
They headed along another gently curving corridor and soon arrived at a more dingy part of the complex. The concrete was unfinished, as if the construction budget had been exhausted. Exposed pipes and conduits ran across the ceilings, connecting the bare strip lighting.
They passed under an archway into an expansive room containing a cloudy standard-sized swimming pool. Their feet echoed in the cavernous space as they walked along its length. ‘Testing pool,’ Jason pointed out as if he was a tour guide.
Another steel door led through to a wide room where overlapping sheets of rubber hung from ceiling to floor, which was covered in gravel.