As a final test she turned the gas bottle’s valve fully open. The hissing gush of high-pressure gas filled the room. The taped joints held and she turned off the valve. ‘It doesn’t matter if there’s some leakage,’ she said, studying the simple but deadly system. ‘There’s enough pressure. It’s ready.’
‘How do we light the wire wool?’
‘The Russians’ll have a lighter. They stink of cigarette smoke even in their suits.’
Stratton walked over to the two men, dug into one of their breast pockets and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
‘Could you light me one of those cigarettes?’ Rowena asked. ‘And please, no quips about it being unhealthy.’
Stratton removed one of the cigarettes from the pack and gestured to the engineer to ask if it was okay. The man nodded enthusiastically. Stratton put the pack back into the man’s pocket, lit the cigarette and went over to Rowena.
He handed her the cigarette and walked over to the other end of the pipe that had the lump of wire wool attached. ‘How long do you think the pipe will take to burn down to the first vat?’ he asked, studying its length.
‘A minute, more or less.’
Stratton ignited the lighter and stared at the flame. He racked his brains for anything they had forgotten.
‘What about them?’ she asked.
He extinguished the lighter and looked at the frightened engineers who had clearly worked out that something very bad was going on.
‘Untie them.’
Rowena walked over to the men and untied the rope.
‘Don’t run until I say.’ Stratton gestured to the men, trying to convey the message.
They didn’t appear to understand but remained where they were. He had the gun and they could sense that he was a dangerous individual.
‘You happy where the lift is?’ he asked Rowena.
‘Yes.’
‘You ready?’
‘Yes.’
‘Turn on the gas.’
She went back to the bottle, crouched to grip the valve and looked over at him.
He lit the lighter.
Rowena turned on the gas and it began to hiss. But then another sound echoed around the hall from behind her. The sound of boots running along the gantry. She looked to see half a dozen soldiers spread out on it, aiming rifles down at them.
The Russian major marched smartly from the tunnel, holding his pistol, and stood between his men, looking smug. ‘Put down your weapon!’
‘Which one?’ Stratton asked.
The officer looked confused. ‘The rifle.’
Stratton laid the rifle on the floor and stepped back, close to the vat that offered some cover from view. He was still within reach of the wire wool that quivered as the oxygen passed through it. ‘What about this one?’ Stratton held out the lighter.
The Russian couldn’t make out what Stratton had in his hand.
‘With this I can open up this,’ Stratton said, placing a hand on the side of the large vat.
The officer did not comprehend the threat. He took a rifle from one of his men and aimed it at Stratton. As soon as he did, the engineers began shouting and waving their hands as they hurried from Stratton to the officer. One of them quickly explained the significance of the oxygen cylinders beneath the vats as well as the dangers of a bullet zooming around the room. He capped off his elaborate description with a simplified ‘Boom!’ that everyone could understand.
The officer looked concerned, as did his soldiers, who began to grasp the situation. One of them was the young soldier who had guarded Stratton. He had a bump on the side of his head. He was the first to lower his rifle without receiving a command to do so and the others followed his lead.
The officer realised that he had been checked. ‘Okay,’ he said, lowering his own weapon. ‘You turn off the gas and nothing will happen to you.’
Stratton rolled his eyes. ‘Who are you trying to kid? This is it for us. We’re dead. But it’s the end for you too. We’re going to take you with us.’
The officer was unable to hide his nervousness. ‘It . . . it doesn’t have to be that way.’
‘It’s the only way. I would rather die like this than in one of your prisons.’ Stratton looked over at Rowena who nodded and looked up at the Russians.
‘Me too,’ she said.
One of the soldiers could speak enough English to understand what had been said and relayed the suicide threat to his colleagues in Russian. A ripple of fear ran through them.
Stratton ignited the lighter and lit the wire wool. It glowed as it burned as quickly as hay and when the pipe itself ignited, the steel, acting as a fuel encouraged by the oxygen, sparked furiously and glowed bright red and roared loudly as smoke and flames issued from the end of it.
The two engineers could stand it no longer and scrambled to the stairs and up them. As they passed the soldiers their panic infected them and every man immediately took flight, except the officer. He stood his ground for a few seconds before stepping back and breaking into a sprint after the others.
Stratton and Rowena looked at each other as the pipe burned swiftly towards the vat.
‘Turn it off,’ he called out.
Rowena obeyed, screwing down the valve until the gas was cut off. The roaring ceased and the flames spewing from the end of the pipe subsided. ‘What now?’ she asked.
Stratton picked up the gun. ‘Get going. Hopefully the guards’ll keep running when they get to the surface. We’ll have to take our chances.’
‘You weren’t serious about wanting to end it here rather than in a prison?’
‘Not while there’s some hope. Go!’
Rowena made her way to the stairs and jogged up them. As Stratton reached the bottom steps she was hurrying along the gantry to the connecting tunnel. When he reached the top of the steps he stopped in his tracks. Jason Mansfield stood in the tunnel, his arm firmly around Rowena’s neck, the muzzle of a pistol pressed against her temple. Binning stood beside them with the Russian officer and a couple of his men.
Stratton brought the rifle up, ready to aim it.
‘Easy, Stratton. Pretending to destroy a chemical container had these idiots fooled - for a moment.’
The Russian officer felt a mixture of embarrassment and anger as he gripped his pistol tightly by his side. He wanted to shoot Stratton for making a fool out of him but resisted taking aim while the dangerous Englishman still had a gun in his own hands.
‘Put the gun down, Stratton,’ Jason urged him. ‘This time it’s really over . . . You’ve had a good run but this is as far as you can go now.’ He pressed the weapon still harder against Rowena, who stiffened angrily in his grip.
Stratton went over his options as he looked into Jason’s eyes.
‘Always contemplating options, Stratton. You are insufferable. Shall I try to take the mad fool with me with a quick shot, and hope he doesn’t kill the girl? Or do I concede this phase and hope there will be another opportunity?’
‘There’s another,’ Stratton said.
Jason’s smirk wavered.What other options could the man possibly have?
As she looked into Stratton’s eyes Rowena suddenly realised what he was considering. ‘Do it,’ she said.
Jason remained at a loss to figure out their plan but instinctively tensed himself for something.
Stratton continued to stare into her eyes as he imagined the potential consequences of his next action. And what they needed to do to survive.
Rowena swallowed and did the same.
Stratton turned and aimed the gun at the oxygen bottle beneath the container. He fired.
The rocky cavern magnified the deafening explosion. Chunks of the oxygen cylinder flew in every direction. Stratton, exposed where he stood, fell back to the floor, the weapon clattering away. The expanding blast caught Binning and the Russian officer and his men as they dropped to cover themselves.