Stratton’s hopes of a clean grab of his friend and a getaway were momentarily dashed. He was already of no further use to the men in the galley and he turned to leave.
‘What’ll happen now?’ one of them asked.
‘Are we getting off the rig?’ asked another.
‘Can we head to the lifeboats?’
‘Where’s the rest of your team?’
Stratton put up a hand, signalling silence. ‘For the time being, stay here, stay quiet, get organised for a move but just wait.’ He looked at the questioning faces and felt suddenly guilty. He could not tell them that he was the only rescuer, that he was all alone. They would stampede onto the deck looking for a fight and many of them could get killed. There was also the issue of the platform itself. It had a lot of highly inflammable material on board and would literally become a bomb if something went wrong. But their chances of survival had increased. Now they were at least masters of their own destiny, to some extent. Depending on the number of hijackers, theirs had become a defensible position. It all now depended on how they would react to the changed situation. ‘I’ll try and get back to you soon. But be prepared to wait here for several hours.’
He couldn’t think of anything else of use to tell them and turned to the doors once again.
‘Watch out for their leader,’ a man nearby offered. ‘He’s a mean bastard.’
Stratton heard it and headed through the doors.
‘So’s he, by the look of it,’ one of the old soldiers said as Stratton left. ‘Right. Let’s get organised,’ he called out to the room.
Jordan stood at one end of the control room, preoccupied. Deacon sat studying him, noting that he had checked his watch half a dozen times since they had returned. The apparent arrival of persons unknown at the base of the platform had not worried their illustrious leader but it had certainly got him all agitated. Deacon wondered whether to press Jordan for an explanation.
The sound of the outer door opening focused both men’s attentions on the inner one. It had to be one of Deacon’s men. Yet all of them were currently on full alert due to the presence of the reconnaissance team below. The door opened and Banzi backed into the room, his waterproof soaked, his rifle slung over a shoulder, a pistol in his hand and aimed into the airlock. He was not alone.
Banzi urged whoever it was to come inside.
It was Binning, in assault gear minus hood, his face and hair soaking wet.
Deacon got to his feet, stupefied.
Jordan looked expectant.
‘Hi,’ Binning said, appearing relaxed and offering his usual understated smile. ‘Sorry about the intrusion. I actually found this gentleman before he found me and asked him to take me to the hijackers’ leader.’ Binning looked between the two men, wondering who that leader was.
‘He was on the machinery deck,’ Banzi offered in his stunted English.
‘Who the bloody ’ell are you?’ Deacon asked. Then, glancing at Jordan, ‘Is he one of your blokes?’
Binning had no idea what the man was talking about. ‘Name’s Binning. I’m a few days earlier than expected. Things are a little off schedule but all for the better, I’d say.’ He beamed.
Jordan had taken a good look at Binning, noting his familiar attire, harness and accessories, including the empty holster at his thigh, the gun from which was now in Banzi’s hand. ‘Who are you?’
Binning held up the plastic box that had been attached to his body since leaving the helicopter. ‘It’s why we’re all here.’
‘It was supposed to be left on the spiders where I could find it at first light,’ Jordan said.
‘Change of plan. The SB surveillance team was going to leave it for you to pick up but I had a bad feeling about our people. Time for me to get out of there. So I’ve brought it along personally. And, of course, I’m coming along with it.’
Jordan looked unsure.
‘Don’t worry, old boy,’ Binning said in response to the look. ‘I’m sure it will be approved. Give your boss a call. Tell him that Binning is moving over earlier than planned. You see, I’m almost as important as the device.’
Deacon had been staring at the scientist with his mouth slightly open, utterly lost as to what he was going on about. He glanced at Jordan, hoping that he might enlighten him about the situation.
Jordan nodded, as if he was beginning to understand. ‘I