“one at head level, and one at groin with a delay.” Ouch! “So the first man gets his head mashed and the second, who'll undoubtedly storm past thinking that’s all there is, and in his greed comes through the door will get his groin trashed.”
There's always someone worse off than yourself.
Stan looks satisfied, as we hear cries a shouts from above, “mashed and trashed.” He smiles. That sounds friendlier than it actually is, I don't want any more details. “An explosion!” Nigel explains pushing his glasses back up his nose, “great idea.” He shuffles forward to perch on a rock we all glance at each other.
“He's a strange old bugger isn’t he?” Asks James in my ear, he smells of Pete's perfume.
“Don’t judge a man by the cover, eh Nigel?” Says Stan.
“Just like the old days eh Stan?” Chuckles the professor.
“You two know each other?” I ask incredulously.
Liza stands slowly, a look of confusion overcomes her. “So, you’re not a Professor?” Speaks Liza clearly stunned, trying to keep up, to make sense of everything.
“Oh yes I am,” Nigel replies, “I am a real Professor with all the qualifications accounted to my name, real as I stand here.” His spectacles in one hand a handkerchief in the other, “my cover needed to be convincing.” Cover? This is brilliant!
“Cover?” Asks Daniel, bloody hell, this is awesome.
“That's a clever disguise, I didn't see that coming.” Which for me is a feeling I’m not altogether used to, and this is my story!
“A disguise yes, but like all the most believable lies, it's shrouded in truth.” He wipes his glasses again. “To get into some of the most hostile and uninhabitable countries in the world, nobody looks twice at a fuddy old Professor, I get my permissions and visas in the usual way for an archaeologist, and can slink around unnoticed by any authorities, it's great for meeting women too!” he returns his handkerchief to his pocket. He winks, having cleaned his glasses again and returning them to his nose.
“The perfect cover!” He now seems far more animated than before too, I am seriously impressed.
“Indeed,” he stands up this time less bent and aged looking, and looking much taller. Or is it just my imagination?
“Shall we proceed? That little trick will only hold them back for a short while, I counted twelve chaps up there, assuming the two blown up can’t follow we're still talking about ten men coming down those stairs soon. We need a plan.”
“Ambush.” Stan says.
”Agree.” snaps Nigel.
“They won't come down together, they'll be in small groups, if they're smart, and they won’t want to run into a trap again.” Replies Graham. And with that, the three 'commando's' group together and in low whispered voices make their plan.
“Ex-army buddies, did you know about this?” I ask Daniel in a hushed tone, I can be secretive too, army indeed.
“I knew Stan is ex SAS, he has a services tattoo, and he's told me a few stories that only now am I beginning to believe,” his hands fly into the air gesticulating, “I knew he and my Dad were acquainted, but not that they served together.”
“And the Prof. Nigel? Where does he fit in?” Liza adds, “ I work with this man every day, for over five years I’ve known him, and I just thought he was a weird science geek,” Nigel chuckles loudly at that.
“Good hearing too eh?” Whispers Kurt.
“I’m a real Professor, I swapped a sniper rifle for a trowel, it’ still dirty work” he winks.
“Let’s get moving before those upstairs start their descent into the dark depths of 'Devil's Pit'.” He says, “And, let’s have a cup of tea as soon as we can too eh?” Everyone agrees. This gives us two goals to work toward, survive and drink tea, the maths works for me, I pat my bag, happy, the KitKats are there, check. Behind us Stan is unravelling what looks like wire from a reel out of his bag, 'buzz, bzzz' he has a small rechargeable drill in there too with a handy little torch on the top, I thought only brownies had to be prepared.
With eyelets attached each side of the stair steps, the thin almost transparent wire is fixed each end and one end has a small grey box where the ends of the wire have gone. He has a small torch between his teeth to work in the dark, 'click, snip' Stan has spliced the ends of the wires and crimped them to the connectors in