Traitor - By Duncan Falconer Page 0,50

at Scarborough. Stratton had gone through every operational trunk and the team’s personal boxes to gather the equipment that he felt he needed for the task. It had been more an exercise to keep himself busy than it had been based on any great confidence that he would actually use it.

The crewman came over to Stratton and tapped him on the shoulder, looking concerned. ‘Charles is getting stressed about the lost comms,’ he yelled above the noise of the rotors and engines. ‘What’s weird is that none of us have even been able to get a signal on our cellphones.’

‘What does he want to do?’ Stratton asked, placing a magazine into a semi-automatic pistol. It was drawing close to that critical moment.

‘Do you think something back at MI16 damaged our comms?’

‘Ask those guys,’ Stratton said, indicating the scientists still in their seats.

George glanced at them. Jason was looking at the ceiling. Binning was watching him and Stratton. Jackson was tapping the screen of a pocket computer with a stylus. Smithy was literally twiddling his thumbs and Rowena had her head back and her eyes closed. ‘Doesn’t matter if they can’t fix it. We’re going to have to land somewhere we can contact ops.’

Stratton had been thinking all the time about a way round this obstacle and had been unable to come up with an even remotely acceptable option. The only solution was the extreme long shot of the pilot taking things into his own hands and pressing on with the task. But that would have required a sudden madness in Charlie.

‘If there’s been a change in plans we won’t know about it,’ George explained.

Stratton knew he had to make some kind of effort, futile though it looked. He made his way to the cockpit, stepped inside and tapped the pilot on the shoulder. Charles looked around at him. ‘Ops’ll know that you have lost comms. The procedure is to continue with the task.’

‘I understand that. The plan calls for us to put down on a ship north of the Morpheus. But a serious storm has overtaken the operational area. We have enough fuel to get to the ship and land on it but not for a return to the mainland. If the ship has moved and we have to turn back for the coast, we could be in trouble.’

Stratton had hoped they were headed directly for a sea drop-off. ‘Could you drop us off a couple of miles from the Morpheus and get back?’

‘The rig’s closer to land than the command ship. But those aren’t my orders.’

‘It’s one of the contingencies, though, isn’t it? To go direct to water drop?’ Stratton was guessing but it was an option he would have put in the orders.

‘I can’t make that decision. And neither can you.’

Stratton knew he had hit a brick wall.

‘If we don’t have comms by the time we reach the coast, I’m landing,’ Charlie added.

Stratton nodded and walked away. He sat beside Jason. ‘The pilot’s going to land if they still have no comms by the time we reach the coast.’

‘What are our options?’ Jason asked.

‘If we have any, I can’t think of one.’

Binning began to look agitated. ‘If it comes down to it, could we threaten the pilot?’

‘You want to threaten to shoot one of the crew?’ Stratton asked sarcastically, wondering about the man’s common sense.

Binning realised it was a stupid comment but it was a sign of his growing frustration.

The crewman stepped out of the cockpit and walked over to the group. ‘Scarborough’s coming up,’ he said.

Stratton looked through the porthole behind his head at the coastline below. The sea stretched to the horizon.

‘We’re going to head north to Aberdeen,’ George informed them. ‘Charles will put down at the forward mounting base there.’ He headed back to the cockpit.

The news only served to increase Binning’s agitation. ‘We’re screwed if he does that.’

Stratton had to agree. He could see it all grinding to a halt if they landed in Aberdeen. ‘You’d better turn the comms block off.’

Binning was on the verge of anger. ‘Is that all you can come up with?’

Stratton flashed him a look, finding his response odd. ‘Turn it off,’ Stratton ordered, a warning in his tone.

Binning clenched his jaw and looked at Jason for help.

‘Turn it off,’ his boss said resignedly.

Binning was alone and had no alternatives. He opened the apparatus’s plastic casing, reached inside and flicked a switch. Stratton got to his feet and went to the cockpit door, taking a pair of headphones from

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