‘You were saying,’ Stratton said to Jordan.
Jordan was about to answer when two more figures moved across the deck, walking stealthily, flitting between the light and shadows.
Stratton started to shrink back once again, wondering if it was more hijackers or perhaps even workers. He suddenly recognised Rowena and then Jason. ‘Over here,’ he called out.
The pair recognised Stratton’s voice and made their way towards the group.
‘Don’t get too close,’ Stratton warned. ‘They’re still armed.’
‘Binning?’ Rowena exclaimed on seeing her fellow scientist with his hands out. ‘I thought something had happened to you.’
‘I don’t think Binning’s on our side any more,’ Stratton said.
Rowena noticed the G43 container hanging from his shoulder.
Jason stared at Binning in disbelief.
‘Sorry, Jason,’ Binning said. ‘I meant to tell you I was leaving but I didn’t have the chance.’
‘What is this, Jordan? More than just a hijacking?’ Stratton asked.
Jordan couldn’t see the sense in keeping quiet now. As far as he was concerned, the game was up. ‘A lot more. The platform was just a front.’
‘That’s disappointing. I came all the way here just for you, old friend.’
Jordan’s feeling of guilt deepened further.
Stratton looked over at Deacon. ‘Who’s your mate?’ he asked Jordan.
‘Ex-regiment. I never met him before. He took the platform.’
Stratton kept the muzzle of his weapon trained on Deacon, sensing that he was the most dangerous. ‘And you, Binning?’
Binning became his usual light-hearted self. ‘Unlike your friend here, I don’t think this is the time to start revealing facts and admitting guilt. There’s more of this game left to play, just in case you happen to think it’s all over because you currently have the upper hand. As your friend keeps trying to warn you, we don’t have a great deal of time. You should think about taking him seriously.’
Stratton was not about to be manipulated. ‘Before we do anything else I want you all to get down on the deck . . . on your bellies.’
‘You’re not listening,’ Jordan pleaded. ‘We don’t have time for that.’
Stratton took his old friend seriously. ‘Why not?’
‘Charges have been critically placed. We’ve just enough time to get to the lifeboats. I’m serious,’ Jordan assured him, seeing the doubt in Stratton’s face. ‘I was never in agreement with that part of the plan but it’s done—’
‘Don’t be such a wuss,’ Deacon interrupted.
‘Explain the explosives,’ Stratton commanded Deacon.
The man shrugged. ‘Like he said. And there’s an anti-lift built into both dets that’ll take you longer than you ’ave just to find ’em.’
‘He has the initiator,’ Jordan said.
‘I ’ave to say, Jordan, I’ve lost all respect for you.’
Stratton levelled his SMG at the former SAS man. ‘Give me the initiator.’
Deacon shook his head. ‘I start a job, I finish it.’
‘I’ll kill you in five seconds if you don’t hand it to me and then he’ll search you for it,’ Stratton said, indicating Jason. He raised the business end of the SMG.
Deacon knew that a round leaving the gun’s barrel would strike his head. And he had no doubt that Stratton was about to pull the trigger. ‘It’s in my pack.’
Stratton didn’t move.
Deacon reached into the bag and removed the safe-box that had contained his secret instructions. ‘It’s in here,’ he said, a smirk on his lips. He tossed the box to Jordan who caught it. ‘I’ll let the rat give it to you.’
Binning was the first to take advantage of the distraction by suddenly grabbing Rowena, pulling her in front of him and drawing his pistol. He held its muzzle to the back of her head. ‘That’s enough,’ he said, stepping backwards, putting distance between himself and Stratton’s lethal SMG. ‘I don’t have time to play these games any more. I’m going to walk down to one of the lifeboats. If anyone tries to stop me I’ll kill her. Please don’t doubt me. Time is running out.’
‘Stand still,’ Stratton said coldly. The confidence of his tone checked Binning. ‘Take one more step and I’ll shoot. You won’t make it to the boat whether you kill her or not,’ Stratton said. With finality.
Whatever Binning thought about Stratton he suddenly had no doubts that the man would kill him. He couldn’t let go of Rowena but neither could he take another step towards the lifeboats.
‘What’s the number?’ Jordan asked Deacon.
‘Could take you a while to open that without it,’ Deacon chuckled.
‘I’m going to start shooting in three seconds,’ Stratton growled.
‘One, two, three, four, then the open button,’ Deacon said quickly. ‘I don’t have a memory for complicated numbers.’
Jordan punched in the first number on the digital keyboard.
Deacon watched. He took a quick glance at Stratton, who was watching him, jaw tight and finger on the trigger. If Deacon moved he knew the SBS man would shoot him.
Binning held Rowena tightly to him, desperately wondering how to get out of this situation. Freedom was only metres away but Stratton would kill him and maybe Rowena if he moved, he was sure of it.
Deacon’s stare flicked back to Jordan. There was less explosive in the box than in a hand grenade and since it was made of toughened plastic, which the heat would soften, there would be less lethal shrapnel. But the blast would be enough to injure all of them, perhaps seriously. Jordan would die, of course. All Deacon had to do was survive it, get the upper hand and escape. There was time.
Jordan touched the number three on the pad. Deacon tensed himself for four.
Jason was watching Jordan but a glance at Deacon suddenly warned him of something. The way the man’s stare bored into Jordan’s fingers, his body trying to lean away.
Jordan had pressed the four button. Only ‘open’ to go now. Deacon was trembling with the urge to dive away. If he did so too soon Jordan could stop, and Stratton would shoot him.
The operative saw the change in Deacon, the tension in his expression and the way he was leaning backwards. He didn’t know whether to shoot him or shout at Jordan to stop. Either alternative would have been too late to save Jordan.
As Jordan’s finger hit the final button Deacon launched himself backwards. Stratton crouched instinctively and tightened his finger on the trigger. The explosion lifted each of them away from Jordan, a wall of heat sending them reeling across the deck.
Jason came to crumpled against a piece of machinery, his head spinning, unsure of where in the world he was. All he knew was that he was in a dangerous place. He fought to pull his thoughts together. The seconds before the blast came back to him and he pushed himself up onto his hands. He realised that he couldn’t see out of one eye and in a fit of panic he felt for it, expecting to find that he had lost it. The skin was sticky but the eyeball felt like it was there. He wiped it and blinked furiously. He realised blood was flowing from a cut across his forehead.
Jordan lay still, his smouldering upper body cruelly distorted by the blast. It had taken off both his arms and removed his face completely. Against the rails Stratton heaved in lungfuls of air and tried to bring his knees beneath him, to get up. Deacon was on all fours, shaking his head like a deranged drunk. The Japanese mercenary lay planted across a tool bench and, although dazed, his face peppered in bloody cuts, he was stretching an arm towards his weapon that was a foot away.
Jason could see no sign of Binning and Rowena. He got shakily to his feet and saw the Japanese man going for the weapon. If either thug regained control of the situation it would not be ideal.
Jason aimed himself at the man, put a foot on the weapon as Banzi took hold of the barrel to pull it closer, then dropped onto him. The mercenary was no slouch when it came to self-defence and with a lift of his knee somersaulted Jason over him and onto his back. Banzi got to his knees and picked up the weapon but Jason kicked him in the face from where he lay and sent the mercenary rolling.