adjust the settings on the camera with his oversized fingers. ‘You,’ he called out, pointing to Jordan on the end of the line-up while looking through the lens. ‘Move a little over.’
Jordan did as he was told. The wind suddenly picked up and whipped at them all.
‘A bit more,’ Viking ordered.
Deacon moved beside him to view the scene. The Lebanese stood at the other end of the line, pointing his gun at the men aggressively.
‘I like the shivering. Adds something. Abdul’s got the ’ang of this,’ Deacon muttered to Viking. ‘Bet ’e’s done this before.’
Viking grinned. ‘They’re good,’ he said, holding the tripod to prevent the wind from blowing it over.
‘Take a long shot of ’em. Pan from one side to the other and back again. End on the dead guy. Zoom in on ’im. That’ll be a nice finish.’
Viking did so. ‘That’s it,’ he said finally, standing upright.
‘Take it to the control room. Jock’ll meet you there. I want that on YouTube soon as you can.’ Viking picked up the camera and tripod and headed away.
‘And tell Jock not to forget to send a copy direct to CNN,’ Deacon shouted.
Deacon looked out to sea at the blackening sky. The clouds really were building. ‘Get ’em back to the galley. And Abdul - in one piece if you can manage that.’
Abdul removed his hood to reveal a disgruntled expression. ‘Get going,’ he said, aiming his remark at Jordan.
The line of men traipsed off the way they had come, the wind whipping at them. Freezing drops of rain began to fall. Deacon pulled up his collar and headed towards the control room.
The theory chamber was locked when Stratton got to it. He pushed a buzzer beside the keypad and after a pause stepped inside to find Jason, Binning, Rowena and two other men standing around one of the tables. He felt like he’d interrupted something.
‘I should call Poole. They need to know what’s happened in case London hasn’t told them yet,’ he said.
None of them replied. All of the scientists looked strangely conspiratorial.
‘I need to use your phone,’ Stratton said, taking a step towards Jason’s office.
Jason held up a hand. ‘Can I ask you to hold off on that for one moment.’
Stratton looked at him enquiringly. ‘They need to know right away.’
‘Another minute won’t hurt . . . There’s something we need to discuss.’
Stratton found the mood odd indeed. ‘Why can’t it wait until I’ve talked to Poole?’
‘It’ll be too late then.’ Jason looked thoughtful, as if he was searching for the right approach. ‘I’ll get straight to the point. The task to the oil platform should continue, and immediately rather than tomorrow.’
‘What’s that got to do with you?’
‘The SBS are not the only ones who can carry out the task.’
Stratton’s brow creased as he realised where this might be going. Every scientist was looking at him, except Rowena, who sat in front of a computer terminal typing something on the keyboard.
‘Do you want to explain that?’ Stratton asked, not particularly keen to hear the answer but curious nonetheless.
‘It’s obvious what I’m saying,’ Jason said. ‘We can do it.’
‘You’re joking, right?’
‘I’m afraid not.’
‘You must have your heads up your backsides. Do you think you can just climb aboard that chopper and do the task like you’re the reserve team? For a bunch of geniuses you’re pretty stupid.’
‘You’re right. We are all geniuses. Don’t you think we’d work out how we could do it before we mentioned it?’
Stratton tried unsuccessfully to suppress a chortle. ‘Why don’t you guys go and have a pink gin while I make that call? Then we’ll forget whatever madness you’re thinking about.’ Stratton headed towards Jason’s office.
‘You can’t call out without a code,’ Jason said.
Stratton hesitated a moment, then pressed on to call his bluff. He picked up the phone. There was no dial tone. He replaced the phone and looked back towards Jason. ‘I suppose I can’t walk out of here without a code, either.’
No one replied, making the answer an obvious one.
‘Take a moment to listen to us, please,’ Jason asked.
‘It doesn’t look as if I have much choice.’
Jason was determined to press on with his idea. ‘Let me first ask you this. Why do you think we’re not qualified to carry out the task?’
‘I said I’d listen to you because I have to. I’m not going to humour you beyond that.’
‘We’re more qualified than you think,’ Jason said with confidence.
Stratton’s expression remained blank.
‘The surveillance equipment they want to install on the platform, the G43,