Bad Timing

FACTORY PREMISES
WORLDWIDE FOODS LTD
CAMBERLEY
SURREY
TUESDAY: DAY 1: T -21 HOURS

The day shift was coming to an end. The tall blond woman Supervisor was walking along behind her staff. As normal their attention to detail was fastidious. The contract with British Airways was the largest the Company had and the highest standards had to be maintained. At exactly 5.00pm a buzzer sounded indicating a change in shifts. The Supervisor was due to finish work too, but it had become part of her routine that she would wait until the next shift was in place and ready to commence operations. For a few minutes the Supervisor was alone. A few small adjustments were made to six food packages and the covers replaced to indicate that these were meals for vegans. In an effort to continually improve customer relations British Airways had introduced new ranges of in flight meals. Meals for vegans were one such change. The Supervisor packed the six meals into the last few places for BA flight 844 Heathrow to Los Angeles, due to leave at 1400 hours. The wheeled container was put into the chiller and the door shut.

The Supervisor drove home, in her red Renault Clio, smiling. That was her last day of work in this life. In a few days she would be rich beyond her wildest dreams and sitting on a beach with a drink in one hand and the rest of her life before her. Her hand went up to her head and the blonde wig came off in her hand. She ruffled the dyed black hair which had been pinned back and turned on the car radio. Shania Twain was playing "Man I feel like a Woman". She laughed. How apt! She drove on.

HEATHROW AIRPORT
BRITISH AIRPORT AUTHORITY SECURITY CHECK
WEDNESDAY: DAY 2: T - 2 HOURS

Just before 1200 hours the Worldwide Foods Ltd truck pulled up outside Security Gate B. Sam Jones, the normal driver, nodded to the Security Guard and handed him the manifest. The Security Guard inspected the paper work and asked that Sam turn off the ignition and open the back of the truck. The same routine had been followed every time Sam delivered to the airport and he climbed down to comply. The back was opened up and the Guard climbed in. He went immediately to the containers marked for flight 844 and checked the hot food containers until he found the one for the vegans. Carefully peeling back the lid he checked the contents of one. Perfect. Everything was returned to normal and the Guard jumped down. Sam locked up the back and drove through the checkpoint until he reached the allotted parking space. The Jumbo was originating from here according to his records and would be available soon for him to deliver the containers to the galleys.

Behind him the Security guard had already left his post and was heading to a Range Rover with tinted windows parked outside the security fence. When he reached the vehicle he opened the rear passenger door and threw the cap he had been wearing on to the still form on the back seat. Blood had stained the leather but that was of no concern to him. The dead security guard would be found soon enough. He slid into the front seat passenger side and proceeded to change clothes. The driver, a tall woman with dyed black hair, smiled at him and eased the car into the traffic, heading towards the short stay car park. They parked up, took their luggage from the back and walked into the International Terminal at Heathrow like hundreds of others had done that day.

BRITISH AIRWAYS FLIGHT 844 HEATHROW TO LOS ANGELES
SEAT NUMBERS 5A & B
WEDNESDAY: DAY 2: T - 30MINUTES

Benny Ray Riddle settled into his aisle seat and held Margo's book whilst she put on her seat belt. He smiled,

"No need to worry yet, Margo, we haven't even lifted off and Chance isn't flying this one."

Margo Vincent looked at him sideways and arched her eyebrows,

"You can never be too careful, Benny Ray."

He chuckled, handed her the book and did up his own seatbelt. Just then the stewardess walked past handing out water to any of the World Business Class Passengers who had already boarded. She offered the water first to Margo who declined. As he stewardess turned her attention to Benny Ray, she smiled and in a low husky voice asked if he wanted water. When he too declined she pouted slightly and asked if there was anything else she could get him. There was definite intention behind the question. As Benny Ray returned the smile Margo leant forward and placing her right hand over his left, spoke to the stewardess in the silkiest smoothest deadliest voice she could muster,

"My husband and I will let you know if we need anything, thank you."

The smile which accompanied the words could have chilled blood. The stewardess stood up quickly and made a swift exit. Margo leaned back with the smile on her face changing to reflect the cat that had just got the cream.

"Margo?" Benny Ray asked.

"If you think I'm spending the next eleven hours watching you and the bimbo flutter eyelids at each other you're very much mistaken," she said icily. "And how was Lizzie?"

"Mother Hen," Benny Ray chuckled, "and Lizzie was fine."

When Margo had suggested that she and Benny Ray attend the IACSP Annual Terrorism Trends and Forecasts Symposium in Frankfurt, he had looked at her as if to say why me? What have I done to deserve this? Matt had given them the all clear after a quick call to Trout and he felt that he was being ganged up on. It was not until Margo had pointed out that HK were showing off their new CAL.4.6m x30 PDW that his eyes lit up and he willingly agreed to go. As Margo opened her book he settled back in his seat and his mind drifted back to the demonstration. He had been seriously impressed by the new compact sub machine gun. Personal Defence Weapon was a misnomer, this beauty had everything you could want in a front line attack weapon; safe, semi and full automatic modes of fire with a stated cyclic rate on full auto of 950rpm, foldable forward vertical grip, conventional 20 round magazine in the pistol grip with an optional 40 round magazine extending below and with a retractable shoulder stock and small heads up display, he had been in seventh heaven at the gun range. He was going to tell Matt that as soon as possible these were a must for the team. Maybe Trout could pull a few strings and get them access to the weapons before they were on the open market. He sighed contentedly.

"So things were good with Lizzie?" Margo enquired. Benny Ray started guiltily. Looking at Margo he could see her smile and knew she had been fishing for information.

When the Symposium finished Margo had let it slip that she wanted to extend their stay by a few days as she wanted to visit Claudia. The Fashion Designer that Margo habitually used was based in Berlin which, as far as Margo was concerned, was just a hop, skip and a jump away and she therefore could not give up the opportunity to visit when she was this close. After Benny Ray had asked what he was supposed to do for the next couple of days, Margo had suggested that he go with her, that Claudia might find something for him too. Considering that Claudia had put Matt in a kilt and had made Deke look like 'Huggy Bear on steroids', the last thing Benny Ray wanted was to go any where near the woman. He declined in a hurry and decided that distance was a good option,

"I might go visit Lizzie."

"That's a good idea" Margo had agreed in a non- committal voice and he got the distinct feeling once again that Margo had been manipulating him.

Benny Ray looked at Margo and decided two could play at that game. He settled back in his seat and pretended to doze.

"Benny Ray?" Margo queried. He said nothing and she realised that getting the information she wanted out of the sniper was not going to be that straight forward. She had managed to get him to Germany easily enough and to England to visit the woman he had formed such a bond with six months ago. Since then she knew they had chatted on the Internet and talked on the 'phone but nothing was happening and she had got frustrated. Normally Margo wouldn't involve herself in the love lives of the rest of the team, she certainly didn't want them meddling in hers, but this, she rationalised to herself, was different. When Lizzie had left there were unresolved issues for both of them, but mostly for Lizzie, and the only way she was going to be able recover fully was if she and Benny Ray met, face to face, again. Margo had been where Lizzie was and she knew what was needed and if Benny Ray needed a helping hand to push him in the right direction, Margo was not averse to providing the impetus. She could be patient; she would get the Intel she wanted. She was ex CIA after all, if need be she could torture the information out of him. She hoped it wouldn't come to that, but if it did, she would.

As the 747 400 jumbo started to taxi to the runway Benny Ray smiled to himself. Taking off was okay it was the landing that concerned him. He knew Margo would be aching to get the information out of him and he knew eventually he would tell her, but he would enjoy the short time he had before that happened.

He had been nervous about meeting Lizzie again. They had last been together at LA Airport and had parted with the best of intentions about keeping in touch. At first it had been difficult, Lizzie was slow at answering his emails and he had got frustrated. One evening, after dinner with his close friend Diana, he had broached the subject. She had been in the job and she was a doctor, if any one would know she would. Diana had explained what Lizzie was going through and Benny Ray had finally come to understand, in part, what it meant for a woman to be raped. Over the next few months he managed to persuade Lizzie into chat and then the big break through, onto the `phone. When he spoke to her from Frankfurt, she had, at first, been hesitant, but had quickly warmed to the idea of a meeting with him. Approaching Birmingham Airport two days previously it had been Benny Ray who had got nervous, but the sight of her smiling face at the gate had dispelled all thoughts of whether his visit had been a good idea.

Lizzie had given up her job at Crown Life soon after she had returned to England and had spent some months doing very little. She had gone to counselling and it had helped, but what had helped more had been the month on month test results that had come back negative. Once home she had realised that her greatest fear was that she might have Aids or Hepatitis. A fear that so far was unfounded. So when Benny Ray phoned to say he had two spare days and could he come and visit her, she jumped at the chance. Putting down the phone she had second thoughts, but now waiting at the gate she couldn't be happier. He strode through the concourse looking just the way she remembered him, but without his arm in a sling. She waved like a school girl to attract his attention and saw his face split into a grin when he spotted her. They were both apprehensive when they were face to face, but he had taken control and kissed her gently on the cheek. She blushed and led him out of the airport.

The journey to Lizzie's flat had taken about 45 minutes and once there the two were soon chatting away like long lost friends. Benny Ray had let Lizzie set the pace. They went to dinner, drove into the countryside and walked. And they talked; about their families, their friends, their past and the future. The one thing they didn't talk about was what happened in Mexico. On the last night Lizzie cooked and they ate in. She wasn't the best cook in the world and dinner was a simple affair, but the wine was good and they collapsed on to the sofa after devouring a ready made pavlova. Lizzie's culinary arts certainly didn't extend that far. A comfortable silence blossomed and Lizzie rested her head against Benny Ray's chest.

"I have a confession to make," she said quietly.

"Don't tell me ya did make the pavlova?" Benny Ray teased.

"No. I knew you would be coming."

Benny Ray sat up and scrutinised her face. "Margo?" He asked. Lizzie nodded. "We've been chatting over the `net for about a month. CJ too."

"Anyone else I should know about?" He wasn't really angry, but he felt somehow let down that he hadn't known.

"I came on line one night when you were away and CJ answered. We found we had a lot in common, him being a Brit as well. He was stationed not far from where my parents live and we used to drink in some of the same pubs." She stuttered to a halt as Benny Ray kept up his scrutiny.

"And Margo?"

"She asked how I was and we started chatting. It just happened..." She finished lamely.

"So Margo set this whole thing up?"

Lizzie nodded. He smiled, "remind me to buy her a bottle of her favourite perfume on the way home to say thanks"

"You're not angry?" Lizzie queried.

"How could I be?"

He sat back in the sofa and Lizzie rested her head again. She turned her head to look up at him and he kissed her lightly on the lips. As he stopped, she kissed him in return harder. Her hand went to his hair and pulled his head down to hers. Their tongues met and explored.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"What for?"

"For not pushing."

"When you're ready, let me know."

"You'll be the first to know."

They stayed cuddled on the sofa as the stars came out. The lights were off and the curtains open. Lizzie could feel the gentle rise and fall of Benny Ray's chest and felt safe in his arms. The time would come she was sure, but not yet, not just yet.

The next morning she had driven him to the Airport where she had met Margo and they had hugged like sisters. Their parting had been better than at LA Airport and Lizzie had commented that saying good bye at airports was becoming a habit she could do without. They had kissed and parted with promises of more `phone calls and chatting and another visit as soon as they both had time.

Benny Ray opened his eyes and looked sideways at Margo. He was hoping she would be reading again but she was still looking at him. The wheels locked back into place in the fuselage of the plane as it banked to the left and continued its assent.

"Benny Ray," she warned.

"Yes Ma'am," he promised.

BRITISH AIRWAYS FLIGHT 844 HEATHROW TO LOS ANGELES

WEDNESDAY: DAY 2: T + 30 MINUTES

On the upper deck of the Jumbo one young man had just decided which videos he was going to watch during the flight. Jim Davidson, his minder, had told him that one particular film was really good and that even though it was edited for the Airline the special effects should still be spectacular. The young man was looking forward to freedom from his parents. When you had parents like his you had to watch everything you did and said. A couple of years ago he had slipped up badly, his face had been plastered all over the newspapers and his Dad had given him a lashing with his tongue. Since then he had behaved and as a result he was now being allowed to take this trip alone. Provided you counted alone as being accompanied by a member of the Metropolitan Police's Elite Bodyguard Squad. He was hoping to spend his first year after leaving school in America, taking a year out to travel, have fun and live a little. This trip was a prelude to that. His Dad had set him up with a family in LA who would be his hosts for the first six months while he worked. The parents had not reacted as badly as he thought they would when he first suggested a gap year, but insisted on him working for at least half the time he was away. They explained that the effect on the press of him swanning around for twelve months would be catastrophic for his father's chances of being re-elected. So a job had been arranged at a Summer Camp for younger kids. He would be coaching football. That would be all right he decided, he liked football and after six months he would be free to roam and there were some fantastic beaches in LA; he'd seen Baywatch.

A steward made an announcement requesting that certain passengers made themselves known to a member of the cabin staff. The list had nine names on it. These were people who had ordered special meals and as always they would be served first. From the lack of reaction in the World Business Class section of the lower deck of the Jumbo no one was choosing that alternative, but in the main cabin seven separate lights called attention to nine passengers. One Muslim family of three sitting together had ordered their meal when they booked their tickets three months ago, six other passengers each sitting in different parts of the cabin expected a little more than a vegan meal to be placed in front of them.

With pre meal drinks having been served and with Benny Ray having chosen iced tea and Margo champagne, they both waited for their food. Margo was in the process of explaining why she was celebrating with champagne after a successful shopping trip in Berlin, when she felt Benny Ray stiffen in the seat beside her. They had worked together for a long time now and she knew the man sitting next to her as well as she knew herself. For them to succeed in the way they had done and to survive almost virtually intact, they had to be able to rely on each other completely. Sometimes she thought that the way the whole team worked was like each being a separate part of one whole; they could operate independently, but were most effective when they all worked together. She followed his line of sight. There was nothing unusual happening in their part of the cabin. One of the passengers was accompanying a stewardess forward and another two passengers were climbing the stairs to the upper deck. Benny Ray whispered urgently to Margo without turning his head towards her,

"What ever you do, you aren't with me, you don't know me, and you've never met me before in your life. Right?"

His words brooked no refusal. She nodded imperceptibly. He must have a damn good reason for doing this and she trusted him implicitly.

"D o you have your ceramic knife?" He asked.

She patted her handbag in reply. He risked one look at her and she saw danger in his eyes.

"What ever happens, don't get dragged into this, Margo. Something is going down here and it can't be good."

For the next few minutes they sat for all intents and purposes like any other passengers on the plane, patiently waiting. Margo felt Benny Ray tense like a coiled spring and it felt like she was sitting on top of a volcano, waiting for it to erupt, but not knowing if or when it would. The plane started to descend and an announcement came over the tannoy which just turned up the heat an extra notch.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Captain Rogers again. I'm sorry to interrupt your pre meal drinks but I'm afraid I have some bad news. We have developed a fault in one of the engines. Now I don't want any one to panic, after all we do have another three."

The attempt at light heartedness fell short, the collective gasp from nearly all the passengers when the words "fault" and "engine" were announced still hung in the air. To a man, nearly all the passengers tightened or put on their seat belts. Benny Ray undid his and when Margo went to undo hers he placed a hand on her belt and shook his head ever so slightly. Now she was apprehensive.

The announcement continued.

"We have decided to take the precautionary step of making a landing at Heathrow where a replacement aircraft has already been arranged. British Airways apologises for the inconvenience this will cause you, but as your safe passage is our utmost priority we wish only to ensure that you reach your destination safe and sound. Please fasten your seat belts and we shall be starting our descent to London shortly. Thank you."

Margo had recognised the stress and strain in the Captain's voice. Whatever was happening was nothing to do with an engine fault, but, she realised, had everything to do with a hijacking and somehow Benny Ray had known. The bimbo stewardess was sat in an empty seat at the front of the section they were in, the tall passenger standing next to her, hand resting lightly on her shoulder. Margo tried to twist in her seat to see if the two hijackers who had gone to the upper deck had come down. They hadn't. The hijacker in their section bent and whispered something in the stewardess` ear. Margo saw her nod emphatically. Was the bimbo part of this, she wondered. As the man walked back down the aisle towards them Margo looked every bit the passenger engrossed in her book. Benny Ray looked straight ahead fearing the worse. It seemed that his fears had been groundless when the man walked past him, but two steps past Benny Ray's seat the man stopped and turned back.

"Well, if it isn't the runt. How are you boy? Long time no see. Still trying to save the world?"

Benny Ray said nothing, but turned to stare at the man beside him.

"Looks as if you finally learned when to keep your mouth shut, runt," the man snarled. "On your feet, Riddle," he ordered.

Benny Ray stood up and lifted his arms into the air when the gun the man was holding encouraged him. He was professionally and thoroughly searched and relieved of his ceramic knife, his wallet and his car keys. The man looked at Benny Ray and verbalised his thoughts.

"Am I just lucky here, Riddle, that you're on this flight? I heard you were in the business still, working freelance. Yes, I think I'm lucky. If you'd known I was involved in this little operation you wouldn't have had the guts to come and face me, would you, Riddle?" The words were fairly spat at Benny Ray, the man only inches from his face. "No, you would have gone running to some bleeding heart do-gooder, wouldn't you, Riddle? You're so good at that."

Benny Ray finally spoke, every word dripped venom,

"Ex-Sergeant Thomas J Holding. Which rock did you crawl out from under?"

Holding's handgun was placed at Benny Ray's neck.

"Don't think I won't runt. You know I can."

He pushed Benny Ray back toward the front of the compartment. When they reached the stewardess, Holding told her to go back and sit in the seat Benny Ray had just vacated. She got up and quickly scurried to sit next to Margo.

"What's he doing with your husband?" She squeaked in fear.

Margo immediately regretted her earlier comment and decided there was only one way out of this. She placed her hand over the stewardess', copying her previous movement with Benny Ray, but now she squeezed hard until she could see the pain on the bimbo's face.

"If you utter one word about him being my husband I shall peel the skin from your face one inch at a time. Do I make myself clear?"

The stewardess could only nod; her safe comfortable world had suddenly imploded. Her plane had been hijacked by gun wielding maniacs and she was stuck next to the passenger from hell.

Margo had listened intently to every word Holding had spoken, taking everything in. Whatever happened now the smallest piece of information could be vital. Benny Ray had given her plenty to go on and with any luck she could gather more and make use of it.

The passengers in the forward compartment had witnessed the scene between Holding and Benny Ray and one or two had seen the gun. Voices were raised in question and after Holding had handcuffed Benny Ray he leaned on the back of Benny Ray's new seat and quietly addressed the passengers, ensuring they all saw the gun pointed at Benny Ray's head.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your Captain has been less than frank with you. The truth is there is nothing wrong with any of the engines on this plane. In fact they are in fine working order. The truth is that this aircraft has been commandeered for my personal use. I wish to travel to Heathrow to transact some business. Now I intend to be fair and once we reach our destination you will be allowed to continue your journey, eventually".

Some of the muttered voices of the passengers started to rise. Holding cut them short.

"You are all intelligent people; please do not force me to take steps you will regret."

The import was deadly and the silence deafening.

On the upper deck the young man was engrossed in his first movie choice. His bodyguard had noticed the passenger who'd gone on to the flight deck and was concerned that as yet he'd not come out. He was equally concerned that for the last 10 minutes he'd not seen their steward. He stood and turned towards the steward's station when a woman passenger came out of the station holding the steward by the arm. Her other hand held a Glock 30 at the steward's head. Her arm came away from the steward arm and motioned the bodyguard back into his seat. He knew he was armed and stood a good chance of taking her out, but in an exchange of fire his charge also stood a good chance of being hit or more likely a bullet would puncture the aircraft's hull causing explosive decompression. He sat assessing the situation, deciding that discretion was the better part of valour, for now.

HEATHROW AIRPORT
OFFICE OF METROPOLITAN POLICE, AIRPORT DIVISION, CHIEF OFFICER MATHERS
WEDNESDAY: DAY TWO: T + 2 HOURS 15 MINUTES

Mathers was a tall thin man with a tiny moustache that sheltered under his nose. Right now he was also a very worried man. Flight 844 had landed just fifteen minutes before, having reported engine failure. Emergency vehicles at the scene had minutes ago radioed in to say there was no sign of any problem from the plane. In fact there was no sign of anything from the plane. The doors hadn't opened to evacuate the passengers and when the mobile stairs had been brought up there had been no response from inside the plane.

"What the hell is going on out there?" Mathers shouted to his team who stood by waiting for instructions.

One man holding a walkie talkie informed him that the control tower had lost contact with the plane immediately on landing and had been unable to re- establish contact. Mathers may have been worried, but he was also a professional police officer and knew when something was going pear-shaped.

"Pull back the emergency vehicles, tell Services to get those stairs out of the way and seal that runway. I want nothing landing there until I say so. Understood?"

His team nodded.

"I'm off to the tower," he said, picking up his walkie talkie. "I'll be on channel 3. Tell me when that plane is clear."

He strode out of his office heading for the control tower hoping that his guess was wrong. It didn't take him long to reach his objective. The Senior Air Traffic Controller was there to greet him. The man already had a sheen of perspiration on his forehead.

"Anything?" Mathers barked. Personally he didn't have a good relationship with the sweating man, but he knew he was good at his job, so he put up with his unpleasant personal problems.

"No. We can see the pilot in the cockpit. He doesn't appear to be moving. Radio contact is possible, but isn't taking place."

Mathers had taken up binoculars from someone's desk and was scanning the front of the plane.

"So it's working, but no one is picking up?" Mathers asked.

The sweating man nodded.

"Give me a headset and switch me on," Mathers ordered.

The order was obeyed immediately. Mathers attempt at communication was not so successful. He hesitated one more moment. Then, pulling off the headset, he thumbed the walkie talkie and told his deputy to pull the passenger list on flight 844. He turned to the air traffic controllers who had been continuing their work, but keeping half an ear on his conversation with their boss.

"Ladies and Gentleman, I'm calling a Code Red. Redirect as many inbound flights as possible, I want this Airport a no go area, now."

He strode from the room leaving a group of very worried people, who suddenly started chattering away to their inbound pilots. The residents around Heathrow were going to have an unexpectedly quiet afternoon.

Mathers' deputy met him before he got back to his office.

"Chief, I think we have a problem."

He handed Mathers the passenger list.

"Shit!" The expletive was the same one his deputy had used two minutes earlier.

The door to Mathers' office was open. One of his team was on the 'phone.

"Clear the decks people, I've declared a Code Red." Mathers announced.

The anxiety in the room went up a notch. The woman on the 'phone replaced the receiver and redialled. The 'phone at the other end rang only twice before it was answered. She handed the receiver to Mathers.

"Chief, it's Hereford," she said quietly.

HEADQUARTERS 22ND SPECIAL AIR SERVICE
HEREFORD
WEDNESDAY: DAY TWO: T + 2 HOURS 45 MINUTES

Colonel David Shaw had sent out orders as soon as the call had come through. His men, twelve of the best from the 22nd's Counter Espionage and Anti - Terrorist Unit, plus their Chief Negotiator would be ready to go in a little over 30 minutes. Now he had to report to the C.O. Normally Shaw would have complete control of this operation, but given the passenger on board, the C.O. would want to be there. Shaw was happy enough with that. It meant he could concentrate on operational matters, whilst the old man kept everyone else out of his hair, especially the politicians. It was bad enough when these situations had a political dimension but, in Shaw's experience, when family were involved too, then sense went out the window, and he couldn't do his job if he had the politician's on his back.. His report to the old man went smoothly enough and after being dismissed he hurried to collect his gear. He didn't want to keep the troops waiting.

In fact the old man was the last to report to the helipads. Two Augusta A109 helicopters were waiting. Two units were already loaded into the one chopper and had just been the given the all clear to take off. Shaw had the third unit on board with the team's negotiator and had kept the co-pilot's seat for the C. O. He appreciated the courtesy. As the second chopper lifted off Shaw sat back and looked at his men. Each one was highly trained and ready to do what ever was necessary to effect a successful conclusion to this mission. These men had trained for every permutation of plane hijacking situations you could imagine and the training guys at the Regiment had very fertile imaginations. He was confident and his men were too.

Down at Heathrow he knew his request for a full passenger list, photographs of the passenger in full face and profile, blood typing on the passenger and a surgeon on stand- by were being dealt with. Once he arrived they would set up their operational unit in a commandeered building, his men would take over the intelligence gathering and briefing, but leave operational decisions to the man in charge down there, Mathers, until such time as he could demonstrate that with the resources available to him Shaw was firmly of the belief that the situation would degenerate and that lives and especially the passenger's life was directly at risk.. At that point control would revert to the old man, but Shaw would be in charge. A press blackout was already in force and Mathers' people were starting the security checks on all the other passengers on the list.

The journey to London continued in relative quiet; all the men concentrating on what lay before them. The Team's joker was in the first chopper and Shaw was certain that it was a little noisier there.

"Sir," a voice disturbed his train of thought, "Boeing have confirmed delivery of all plans and specs to site, Sir." Shaw nodded in acknowledgement. He and his team were familiar with the particular aircraft, but it would be good to have the detailed drawings available so that they acquire decent Intel on what was happening inside that plane. Aircraft penetration was difficult enough. Without the specification, it was like trying to unpick the worst knot in the world with thick rubber gloves on.

HEATHROW AIRPORT
TEMPORARY OPERATIONAL HEADQUARTERS
22ND SPECIAL AIR SERVICE
WEDNESDAY: DAY TWO: T + 5 HOURS

Mathers strode into the building where the 12 members of 22nd SAS were rechecking their equipment. Colonel David Shaw approached him with his hand outstretched and the two men shook hands. Introductions were unnecessary; the two men had worked together before. Mathers brought Shaw up to speed on developments whilst he had been en route, which were negligible. Shaw escorted Mathers into his temporary office and the two men made themselves comfortable either side of a desk.

"Why hasn't the aircraft been moved to a more manageable location?" Shaw asked.

"We still have no contact at all with the jumbo. Absolutely, bloody, nothing."

Mathers was frustrated. He was getting flack from all directions. The Airlines were complaining about the closure of the Airport, there were passengers stranded all over the country who had been diverted, but whose cars were still parked at Heathrow and the Airport itself was still full of passengers whose flights had been cancelled and who as yet had no where else to go. And that was without the hijacking.

Plans of the Airport and the plane had been tacked to the walls of Shaw's office. His headquarters were marked in red as was the plane and the control tower. Shaw stood up and went to the location map.

"At this stage I intend to deploy my men here, here, here and here." He pointed to four different spots. "We shall of course be waiting in the wings until you effect a change in command, but we shall channel all new Intel through your office."

Mathers nodded. The plan was not much different from what he would have done; standard operating procedures.

The tall police man took over, handing Shaw a manila folder.

"Checks are still being carried out on all the other passengers. Nothing yet, but a lot are foreign nationals. Whilst most of the Embassies are assisting, a few," he raised his eyebrows, "are not. The normal troublemakers. As we get confirmation on each passenger, relatives are being informed, so expect the press to start nosing around any time now. The Home Secretary is already here and the PM is expected within thirty minutes."

Shaw nodded. "The C.O. is meeting with the Home Secretary now and I have arranged to brief the PM and his wife on their arrival. Are the surgeon and the medical teams here?"

Now it was Mathers turn to nod his head. "We have blood on standby and in the folder you'll find the photographs you asked for. Enough for one for each member of your team and spares."

"Good," Shaw stated. He walked to the door of the office and called to one of his men. A whispered conversation took place and the soldier went off with the folder.

"Now," Shaw said as he closed the door. "What the fuck are we going to do about this plane."

SILVER STAR HOTEL
HERMOSA BEACH, CALIFORNIA
WEDNESDAY: DAY TWO: T + 5 HOURS GMT

The phone rang. It was 11am and Matt Shepherd faced another day of paper work. The idea of opening a bar had appealed to him, but from day one it had been a bureaucratic nightmare. The new bar manager had taken over ordering so that was one chore he didn't have to do, but taxes were another matter all together and he had realised early on that notwithstanding all his specialist skills, accountancy was not one of them.

He didn't have time to say his name before the familiar voice at the other end demanded to know where Margo was.

"And hello to you too," Matt replied.

"Matt, this is important, where is Margo?"

Shepherd sat up straight. He checked his watch and answered.

"About now she is just off the American coastline on a British Airways jumbo. Why?" Matt waited for an answer that he knew from Trout's enquiry he wasn't going to like.

"Damn, I was afraid of that. Approximately 4 hours ago a British Airways jumbo out of Birmingham, England was hijacked. The hijackers landed the plane at Heathrow and are sitting on the tarmac now. No demands have been made and so far as we know, no one has been hurt. Ten minutes ago a request for information on one Margo Vincent crossed my desk as part of the routine enquiries on the 64 American Nationals on the plane. The FBI passed it to me because of her 'unique` background. Is she alone?"

Matt had become alarmed immediately Trout had started talking. He knew Margo could take care of herself and that she had Benny Ray with her, but hijacks were a recipe for disaster and he didn't want two of his team in the middle.

"Benny Ray is with her," he replied. "Trout, I want in on the ground on this one. Can you fix it?"

He'd made the decision without thinking.

"Matt, I don't think that's very sensible. I've got Deke in Venezuela and I've already recalled him. You could get on a plane and be half way to London when the hijackers take off. They could be almost any where in the world by the time you land. You could be playing catch up endlessly and that's assuming we know where they are going. Stay put, Matt, and wait for when I do need you."

Matt knew Trout was right, but was reluctant to accept it.

"What do we know?" He needed information now.

"Matt, I only got Margo's name ten minutes ago. I already have Deke moving, give me time. I'll make a few calls and get back to you."

"Make it quick, Trout." Matt demanded.

"I will, Matt, I will."

The phone went dead. Matt put the receiver down slowly and then grabbed it up again and started punching numbers. There had to be something he could do.

TEMPORARY OPERATIONAL HEADQUARTERS
22ND SPECIAL AIR SERVICE
HEATHROW AIRPORT
WEDNESDAY: DAY TWO: T + 5 HOURS 30 MINUTES

Mathers' walkie talkie crackled into life. It was the Chief Air Traffic Controller. The terrorists had made contact and were demanding to talk to the man in charge.

"I'm on my way," Mathers almost shouted. Jumping up from his seat he made for the door. "Progress," he smiled.

The terrorists had demanded just one thing, floodlighting for the plane. No reason was given, but it was obvious why. As the evening drew in and the light went there would be more opportunity for a covert approach. The terrorists wanted to prevent that.

"What do we do?" whined the Chief Air Traffic Controller.

Shaw had quickly agreed with the assessment Mathers' had given him and in the short time they had been in the tower Shaw had started to feel sorry for the men and women who had to work with the Chief Air Traffic Controller.

"Give it to them," Mathers ordered.

Shaw nodded his agreement. It was the first thing they had asked for, their first contact with the terrorists. Giving them the floodlighting would not prevent his men carrying out their job, it might make it more difficult, but his team were used to that. Other opportunities would arise to get surveillance equipment into the plane or his men would create the opportunity.

As the two men left the tower, Mathers turned to Shaw.

"It'll take about thirty minutes to get the floodlighting in place. I'll notify you before we switch on."

Shaw nodded and headed off to his Prime Ministerial briefing.

It took slightly longer than the thirty minutes Mathers had estimated, but at a few seconds after 8.15pm the lights went on around Flight 844.

FLIGHT 844
HEATHROW AIRPORT
WEDNESDAY: DAY TWO: T + 8 HOURS

The floodlighting had made very little difference to the passengers and crew of the jumbo. On landing all of the passengers in the main cabin and most of the passengers on the upper deck had reacted the way passengers all over the world react on landing; they immediately disregarded the fasten seat belt sign and stood up in the regular battle to be the first to remove their belongings from the overhead compartments and disembark. As they jostled for position an announcement had created panic. Holding had informed them quietly and calmly that he was in control of the plane and that they would be delayed a little longer, until such time as it was safe for them to leave the plane. Some had screamed, others cried, but eventually all the passengers had settled back in their seats, reluctantly.

The young man on the upper deck had not understood why his bodyguard had told him to sit down when they had landed. One of the few perks of the life he led was that he got to get off planes before everyone else. He was about to complain when the bodyguard turned to him and told him to sit down in a voice that scared him. He sat down.

Margo and Benny Ray had both sat still when the plane finally rolled to a halt. Benny Ray had little choice. Holding had not taken his eyes off him. Benny Ray would've liked nothing more than to put his fist in Holding's face, not just for today, but for a lot of other days as well. He sat still and returned Holding's gaze. Holding smiled unpleasantly.

By the time the floodlights went on the plane had been on the ground for a little over 4 hours. Children were miserable and noisy and some passengers getting a little brave, because of the inactivity. In the main cabin a group of British lads who had been drinking before the flight and who had continued drinking their duty free after the plane had landed had eventually talked themselves into being a bunch of gung ho idiots. After all, they concluded, there were only three terrorists that they could see and there were seven of them. They mixed it up on the terraces every Saturday following Arsenal, so these three guys should present no problems. As one of the hijackers took his regular stroll down the aisle one of the British lads stood up and demanded to be allowed to go the toilet. He was told to sit down and shut up. He refused and started to shout. The two other hijackers brought weapons to bear on the loud-mouthed young man. As more of the lads began to stand up and people joined in the complaints, the first terrorist hit the Briton in the stomach savagely and as he fought for breath, doubled up, the terrorist brought the gun down on the back of his unprotected head. He slumped to the floor bleeding.

"The next person who complains will die," the terrorist stated loudly enough for every one to hear. "You can choose if its going to be you," he promised quietly.

The passengers and crew spent another hour and forty-five minutes on the plane before Holding suddenly stood up and looked at his watch. Taking out a small mobile phone he pressed one button and speed dial did the rest. He said one word when the call was answered.

"Now."

For a few minutes nothing happened. Benny Ray was careful not to alter his body language, remaining calm and apparently unperturbed. He knew Holding would not be fooled by this, but it was important to maintain control all the time. Someone was coming down the steps from the upper deck. Benny Ray resisted the opportunity to turn round and look. The second terrorist walked down to Holding.

"Everything is secure on the flight deck and the message has been passed to the tower. The mobile steps will be here in a few minutes." He looked down at Benny Ray, noticed the handcuffs and asked, "trouble?"

"Nothing I can't handle." Holding replied, smiling at Benny Ray.

He picked up the tannoy and made an announcement,

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to thank you for your patience. For some of you it is about to be rewarded. Ground crew are about to leave mobile steps at the rear exit. When I tell you, all the passengers in the main cabin will gather their belongings and exit from the rear. Regrettably passengers in the front and upper cabins will remain where they are."

The groans of the pampered few were drowned by the sounds of relief from the masses. A few minutes later the departure began and was soon effected, the injured man being helped by his friends. The aircraft was strangely quiet.

"Now," Holding said. "We play musical chairs."

From the upper deck movement could be heard. Slowly a trail of people came down the stairs and made their way into the main cabin. The flight crew were amongst them. The last four people to come down the stairs were the steward, the young man, his bodyguard and a tall female with dyed black hair carrying a hand gun. The young man was prevented from entering the main cabin and it looked for a moment as though the bodyguard was about to object when a gun appeared at his head. The terrorist who had been on the flight deck and who had recently joined Holding was ensuring that at this stage the plans continued to run smoothly.

"Don't be stupid," he whispered into the bodyguard's ear. "If you cause trouble the first person who'll be hurt will be the boy. Behave and you may both get out of this alive."

The bodyguard was then relieved of his weapon and cell phone and herded into the main cabin with the others. The young man stood awkwardly not knowing what to do. The woman hijacker pushed him down into a seat. Holding spoke to the passengers in the forward cabin.

"Please, now pick up your belongings and join your fellow passengers in the back."

Benny Ray stood and turned with the others. He had no doubt that he wouldn't be going with them, but wanted to see Margo without letting Holding know.

"Not you, runt." Holding whispered and placed a hand on Benny Ray's shoulder.

Margo stood up and risked a glance at Benny Ray. Their eyes met and she had a horrid fleeting thought that she would never see him alive again. She shook it off mentally and lifted her head in defiance. Benny Ray saw the gesture and smiled very slightly. They would be okay.

Margo made her way into the main cabin and took a seat near the steward's station to be near Benny Ray. Holding went into the main cabin surveyed the passengers and crew in front of him, but said nothing. He turned his back on them, signalled to the tall woman and the second hijacker in the front cabin and pulled the curtains across. Despite her confidence, Margo couldn't completely suppress another cold shudder as the same dreaded thought invaded her mind.

MATHERS' OFFICE
HEATHROW TERMINAL
WEDNESDAY: DAY TWO: T + 8 HOURS

Mathers had been taken completely by surprise. He had hoped that they were making progress after the floodlights had gone on, but as soon as the plane had been lit up, silence had once again ensued. Communication had been attempted, but the phone was ringing out, no one was home. Then, just under two hours later the hijackers had announced that in recognition of the good faith shown by the capitalist military junta they would release some of the passengers. A request for mobile steps had been made for the rear exit and despite Mathers' disbelief that anyone would actually be let go, at exactly 10.00pm that evening the vast majority of the passengers of flight 844 were released. Extra officers had been drafted in to cope with the release, to ensure that none of the terrorists had slipped off the plane disguised as passengers and to debrief the released passengers. Not unexpectedly, it was quickly established that the Prime Minister's son was not one of those who had been released.

The press had been hovering for some time and the release of the passengers would no doubt only fuel the scavengers' lust for a story. Mathers had a low opinion of the press regardless of whether they were from the tabloids or the broadsheets. His men had caught one woman journalist attempting to gain access to the men's toilet nearest to his office in an attempt to overhear any juicy titbits discussed whilst they relieved themselves. She had been quickly ejected. Mathers informed Shaw of the retention of approximately forty passengers and the crew. Shaw would in turn brief the Home Secretary. Mathers had his hands full with the current situation.

Shaw put the phone down and picked up his binoculars. The whole of the area around the plane was lit up like a Christmas tree. He hadn't liked Mathers' decision to give the tangos floodlighting, but he had seen the sense and it had apparently paid off with the release of the passengers. The job of his team hadn't changed; they still had to effect the safe release of the remaining passengers and one passenger in particular. This show of faith by the hijackers worried him. It was out of character. You didn't give away your assets or so many of them in one go for a bit of extra lighting. Something wasn't right. These thoughts only reinforced Shaw's decision that the next priority must be to effect ACP. Aircraft penetration would give them vital Intel on the number of hijackers they were dealing with, who the bastards were and where the primary target was being kept. He had to get someone near that plane. He refocused his eyes through the haze of lights and put the finishing touches to a plan he had already formulated.

Inside the plane, Benny Ray was becoming more uncomfortable. It was now over 12 hours since he had relieved himself and whilst other passengers had been allowed to the toilets as and when they asked, he had not given Holding the pleasure of asking him for anything. He was sure Holding would have refused anyway. He twisted in his seat and the male hijacker closest to him looked down.

"I need to go to the rest room," Benny Ray said quietly. The man stared at him for a second.

"Kara," he shouted. "Come here."

The woman walked down the aisle and for the first time took a proper look at Benny Ray. He returned her stare.

"Our friend here needs a piss. Want to give him a hand?" The man laughed, but Kara smiled.

"Why not."

She motioned Benny Ray out of his seat and walked behind him as he made his way to the nearest toilet. Pushing open the door, Benny Ray stepped inside and went to close the door behind him.

"Oh no you don't," Kara said. "Leave it open."

"You wanna watch," Benny Ray jeered. "Need to get your kicks? Ain't Holding keeping you satisfied?"

His guess hit home and he saw the woman blush. She quickly composed herself and pointed her handgun at Benny Ray.

"Listen, lover boy, you make one more crack like that and I'll make sure you never do anything else with that but piss. Now get on with it, or do you need a helping hand?"

She stood and watched as Benny Ray relieved himself.

"Not bad," she chuckled.

Now it was his turn to blush. She laughed and as he zipped himself up and turned to wash his hands. She stepped into the toilet and spoke quietly to Benny Ray.

"I don't know what Holding has in store for you, but we could have some fun later when the kid goes to sleep if you're still alive."

Her hands moved down to Benny Ray's belt and he stopped her before she could undo it.

"Bondage is not really my thing," he said, holding up his hands for her to see the handcuffs.

"But it is mine," she sniggered.

Benny Ray pushed past her, out of the toilet and she let him go savouring the contact and wondering if she could persuade Holding to let her play with the blue eyed man before he was killed.

HAWAII
WEDNESDAY: DAY TWO: T + 8 HOURS GMT

CJ had been surprised by Matt's call. He'd only spoken to the team a few days before and CJ wasn't expecting another call for at least three or four days especially with Margo out of the country. She was the chatterbox and rang regularly, but whether it was to talk to him, Chance or Sherry he was never too sure. When he heard what Matt wanted he agreed immediately, but then set about trying to explain to Matt how difficult it would be.

CJ had left the SAS not long after his return from Libya. The death of his brother had been more than he could take at the time and despite the support he received from the Regiment on his return, he knew he needed a break. They had parted on good terms and he still had friends who were serving, but to achieve what Matt wanted was going way beyond a Sergeant's rank. There was one man he could try, but it was late in England allowing for the time difference, but not too late. He started dialling.

The phone rang five times before it was answered.

"Jeff, me old mate, how you doodling?"

"CJ, is that you, you old dog?"

Jeff Swanson had been a Sergeant with CJ immediately before CJ's secondment to his brother's unit. Jeff had been marked down for higher things and the last CJ had heard he had made Lieutenant twelve months ago.

"What the devil do you want you, tosspot?" Swanson asked. "Not calling to say you're finally paying off that money you owe me?"

"You cheated, you bastard. You owe me by rights," CJ retorted.

Swanson snorted and the conversation went on for a few more minutes, both men insulting the other in ever more colourful language. Eventually CJ got round to the purpose of the call, as Swanson knew he would. CJ asked if Jeff knew who was on the Heathrow hijacking.

"CJ, how do you know about that? The press embargo hasn't been breached yet."

"Let's just say I have inside sources," CJ sighed.

"Do you remember wee Davy Shaw?" Swanson asked.

"The guy they dunked in the fish pond three days in a row?" CJ could hardly believe he was in charge of such a high profile job.

"It seems that the effect on the poor wee thing was most salutary and he's risen through the ranks as though he had a rocket strapped to his ass."

"Well it could have been worse," CJ muttered half to himself. "Thanks, Jeff. Gotta run, give my love to Suzie."

"CJ, CJ what the hell is going on..." was all CJ could hear as he put down the receiver.

Allowing Swanson time to get fed up shouting at him and put down the phone his end, CJ placed another long distance call. This time the phone barely had time to ring before it was answered.

"CJ?" Matt asked.

"Yes, Major, I have your name. Colonel David Shaw."

"What do you know about him CJ?" Matt demanded.

"Not too much. A fair man, good to have on your side, but he won't be happy about sharing info."

CJ could almost see the rigid set of Matt's jaw as he answered.

"I'll make it worth his while."

The phone went dead. Chance walked into the office wiping his hands on an already dirty rag. He saw the look on CJ's face and asked, "what's up?"

CJ thought for a moment, then looked up.

"Get packed, we're going on a trip."

TEMPORARY OPERATIONAL HEADQUARTERS,
22ND SPECIAL AIR SERVICE
HEATHROW
THURSDAY: DAY THREE: T + 10 HOURS

"This is ridiculous!" Mathers exclaimed. "They've been on the ground now for ten hours and they want nothing? We know from the released passengers that they were kept fed and watered. They must be running out of food and drink soon, so why don't they answer us?"

"I don't believe they want anything," Shaw said quietly. "The longer this goes on the more I think that these people have another agenda. You don't hijack a plane full of people, then let most of them go and not make any demands."

"Agreed. So what do they want?"

Shaw turned from the map of the airport that he was studying, looked at Mathers and admitted, "I don't have the foggiest idea."

Mathers stared at him in disbelief.

MATHERS' OFFICE
HEATHROW AIRPORT
THURSDAY: DAY THREE: T + 17 HOURS

The coffee in the pot was cold and Mathers was exhausted. There was still no contact from the plane and the only progress during the night had been confirmation on the identity of all the released passengers. Relatives had been notified and the news of the hijacking had broken in the States and two European countries. The press embargo here would be lifted any moment and the unseemly haste of the press pack would intensify. Mathers' walkie talkie crackled to life.

"Chief, the hijackers have requested the return of the mobile steps. They say there are more people coming out."

Before Mathers had a chance to reach the door of his office, Shaw rushed in.

"I want a man on the steps," he demanded.

Mathers nodded, "come with me."

Mathers watched as the steps swung away from the Services Bay and out towards the plane. The driver, one of Shaw's men, ensured that the same side of the steps faced away from the plane at all times. The man strapped to the side of the steps looked precariously poised to Mathers, but this was the only way to get anyone near enough to get under the plane. The operation went smoothly. The steps were put in place, the driver got out and walked away from the plane so that the hijackers could see him leave and about five minutes later the rear door opened. By then the SAS man had undone his straps and scurried to a position under the belly of the plane. He had positioned himself by one leg of the landing gear and clambered up. Mathers had seen the equipment he had to use, a tiny soundless battery powered drill with a bit the size of a biro. Once through the outer housing of the plane drilling would continue until both fibre optic cabling and a microphone could be placed through the opening created. The A10 unit used by the SAS boys was a magnificent example of micro engineering. The soldier in situ would now be stuck until either the steps came back or some other means was devised to affect his return. Meanwhile Shaw had promised that he would let Mathers know when communication with the inside of the plane had been established.

Approximately twenty passengers blinked as they stepped into the early morning sunlight and freedom. Mathers had people in place to go through the same debriefing and checking process as before. He was still at a loss to know what was going on. He hoped Shaw's toys would give them an answer.

FLIGHT 844
HEATHROW AIRPORT
THURSDAY: DAY THREE: T + 22 HOURS

Margo had watched half of the passengers in the main cabin being released five hours earlier. There had been no rhyme or reason as to the selection of those to be released. It seemed to be just those nearest the rear door. This was the strangest hijacking she had ever come across. Admittedly her experience in that field was limited to the training she had done with the team and her basic training at Langley when she was first recruited to the CIA, but even so she felt she was sufficiently up to date on all terrorist theory and strategy to know that this was not normal. She had come to the same conclusion Shaw had, this was a front for something else. A diversion, perhaps, she thought. With no communication with the outside world she had no way of even attempting to confirm her theory. What concerned her more than that was not knowing what was happening to Benny Ray. There was no sound of a commotion, no fighting, so either he was waiting for an opportunity which hadn't yet occurred or he was unable to do anything for some reason. She chose to believe the former.

A few yards away Benny Ray had not slept all night. That he was used to, but now he was hungry. Whenever the team were on a mission they always had full supplies and whilst rations were hardly tasty they kept off hunger. Holding had deliberately not given him anything to eat or drink and he would not allow himself to ask. The women had sat next to him all night either just staring at him or whispering to him things he would rather not contemplate with her. She was psychotic, he was sure of that and in his eyes that made her more dangerous than Holding. Benny Ray's ex Drill Sergeant was an evil conniving bastard, but he was in control, he was doing this for a purpose and from what Benny Ray had seen that purpose was money. This wasn't a hijacking it was an elaborate kidnapping. He had recognised the British Prime Minister's son when he had come down the stairs. What Benny Ray couldn't work out yet was how this was going to play out. Holding needed to collect on his ransom otherwise this was a waste of time and whatever else Holding was, he was not a stupid man. Benny Ray knew he would find out, he just hoped it wouldn't be too late.

Holding went to the upper deck and onto the flight deck. He made his demands calmly and quietly. He expected the protestations at the tight time schedule he had imposed, but also knew that the Prime Minister of Britain could get what he wanted within the time limit set, especially if he wanted to see his eldest son alive again. Coming down the stairs he turned and entered the main cabin. He stood by the bodyguard and addressed the remaining twenty passengers and the crew.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, your ordeal will soon be over. I have asked the airport authorities to return the steps to the rear door and as soon as they arrive you will be free to go."

There was a collective sigh and murmurs of relief. Margo risked a quick glimpse at the front cabin. She had known this time would come. She had to be strong enough to leave Benny Ray. When they had first got the team together her opinion of the hard headed southerner had been less than complimentary, she had considered him bigoted and sexist. Now she knew he would lay down his life for her and she for him, but on this occasion she needed to get out and if that meant leaving him behind then she had to be strong enough to do it. As much as she hated it. She had information she had to get out to the authorities here and to Matt. As the rear door opened she reluctantly stood with the other passengers and slowly filed out into the sunshine.

MATHERS' OFFICE
HEATHROW AIRPORT
THURSDAY: DAY THREE: T + 22 HOURS 10 MINUTES

They had managed to identify four of the six hijackers. From what the debriefed passengers had told them they knew there were six of them and the fibre optic cable had sent clear pictures of four of them. They were all American. As soon as they had positive identification, channels had been followed and the Military Attaché from the American Embassy had arrived to 'advise`. Everyone in the room knew he was CIA, but no one admitted it. Enquiries by the Attaché's colleagues in the States had indicated the man who was likely to be leading the terrorists, but no one had any idea on the woman. In fact the man identified by the CIA as being the probable leader of this terrorist activity, was lying unclaimed in a morgue in Dayton, Ohio, the driver in a head on smash who had jumped a red light whilst under the influence of one too many beers. Holding didn't have a criminal record and had not even been under consideration by the men in black. They had got it all wrong.

Pictures and sound inside the plane had been established shortly after the A10 unit was inserted and Mathers had spent a lot of time watching and listening, but it had brought him no closer to the truth of what was really happening. He rubbed his eyes and took another sip of coffee. It tasted foul. The sandwiches brought in first thing in the morning were now dry and curling at the edges. Still, thought Mathers, they were better than nothing and he didn't have time to sit down and eat a proper meal. A disturbance somewhere outside his office drew his attention. Walking to the door he was confronted by a beautiful brunette.

"Are you in charge?" She demanded.

Mathers, his mouthful of sandwich, nodded. He swallowed hard.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Margo Vincent and I have to talk to you."

Mathers stepped back from the doorway and motioned her inside his office. Margo explained that she had just come off Flight 844 and had vital information about the hijackers. He asked her to wait and called Shaw. A few minutes later Colonel David Shaw walked into the office accompanied by the Attaché from the American Embassy, who had become something of a shadow to the SAS man.

"Well, well, Margo Vincent, as I live and breathe. I recognised the name on the passenger list, but didn't believe it was you," the Attaché said.

Margo turned at the sound of a familiar voice, "Abel Downes. I should have known."

Margo stood and they hugged.

"Are you alright?" He asked with concern.

Abel had been a new recruit to the Farm just before Margo 'decided' to leave. She had tutored some lectures on counterterrorism techniques and Abel had fallen head over heels in love with her. She had quickly disabused him of that in some extra curricular hand to hand combat sessions that left the then new recruit with a broken heart and concussion.

"You've come along way, Abel. And you look good, but now I need your help," she implored him.

"Gentlemen you can trust the lady implicitly. She used to work with me. I can vouch for her."

Shaw nodded and Mathers shrugged. Margo proceeded to tell them everything she knew. As she finished, Abel squeezed her arm and left the room promising to pull Holding's jacket as soon as possible. Shaw thanked Margo for her help and he and Mathers went into a huddle in a corner of the room. Margo looked round, saw the phone, picked up the receiver and dialled.

"Margo, Margo is that you?" Matt repeated her name as if not believing his ears. "Were you and Benny Ray on the plane? Are you both alright?"

The questions continued to come and Margo had trouble making him stop. Once she had, she quickly explained the situation and asked Matt to contact Trout and get him to check out Holding as well. It was not that she didn't trust Abel, quite the contrary, but Trout had a longer reach and could work faster and he had sources that even Abel couldn't access.

"Margo, we're coming over. Deke and Nick are with me and with Trout's help we can be there in a little over twelve hours."

"Matt, there's no point. I've a feeling this plane isn't going to be on the ground long and what we really want is someone making sure this bird is tracked every step of the way."

Reluctantly Matt agreed, but it took more of Margo's persuasive arguments.

"And Benny Ray?" He finally asked.

Margo had no answer.

FLIGHT 844
HEATHROW AIRPORT
THURSDAY: DAY THREE: T + 23 HOURS

Holding was back on the flight deck listening to the excuses of the politicians as to why they couldn't deliver the ransom on schedule and needed more time. Holding cut the chatter short,

"Gentlemen, I have two hostages on this plane, one is the Prime Minister's son and the other is his bodyguard. In the next two minutes one of them will die. The other will die at exactly 1400 hours unless those Bearer Bonds are in my possession before that. I have nothing more to say."

He left the flight deck and went down to the main cabin. With the removal of the remaining passengers Benny Ray and the young man had been moved. In the main cabin they were met with five men, one was the bodyguard, Davidson. The young man lost what little composure he had and ran to the only familiar face he knew. Davidson placed the boy behind his back for all the good that would do. He looked at Benny Ray, saw the handcuffs and thought he had found an ally. It would do him no good.

Holding entered the cabin. He pushed Benny Ray into a seat and walked to the bodyguard and his charge.

"Go to the rear door," he ordered.

Davidson shepherded his charge to the rear and waited whilst one of the hijackers opened the door. The two of them stood in the doorway waiting for the steps to arrive. Davidson turned to ask Holding where the steps were. It was the last thing he did. The lifeless body fell to the tarmac below. The young man screamed and in his seat, Benny Ray's shoulders sagged just a little. Suddenly it was too late.

The display proved effective. Within forty five minutes Holding had received confirmation that his Bonds were ready. Instructions were given and a lone man walked out to the plane carrying a canvas holdall. The plane's engines were started, but it did not move. Once again the rear door was opened. The figure that appeared was the young man. He looked pale and scared.

Holding had been detailed in his instructions and they were followed to the letter. Snipers that Mathers had placed had no clear shot other than at the young man who now knelt down in the open doorway waiting. The lone man walked across the tarmac towards the plane. When he arrived he stood directly below the boy and threw the holdall up. The young man failed to catch the holdall and quickly looked over his shoulder into the interior gloom of the plane. The holdall was again thrown and again missed. The third time was a charm. The Prime Minister's son moved back into the plane, but the door remained open. The sound of the plane's engines changed and the jumbo slowly started to roll forward.

Mathers had watched everything from the control tower. Shaw stood beside him. Both men used binoculars. The deal that had been struck provided for the payment of the bearer bonds and the release of the young man. So far only one side of the deal had been honored.

"Are you ready?" Mathers asked Shaw without looking at him.

"Give me the word," Shaw confirmed.

Margo watched the plane start to move and put the palms of her hands on the big windows of the VIP lounge. Abel leaned in towards her.

"Your man?" He asked.

She nodded unable to speak. Whilst she had been unwilling, but able, to leave Benny Ray, now when it came to it and she thought he was leaving her, she could hardly stand it. Her hands balled into fists and she hit the glass in frustration. A few feet away from her a couple stood. The woman in tears, the man pale, but composed. They had expected to see their son reappear at the open door of the plane as soon as the holdall had gone in. As yet he had not come back and now the plane was moving. Margo's banging on the glass startled them both. The woman wiped her nose and held her husband's hand tight. He returned the pressure.

Inside the plane Kara had stood up when the holdall was first dropped. Benny Ray had seen time slip by with no chance of making a move. He had been seriously outnumbered and the woman had hardly taken her eyes off him. When she stood in her excitement to see the bearer bonds delivered he knew he could make a move. Disarming her would be easy she was no professional, but Holding was and he had the other hostage covered and Benny Ray knew that if it came to it Holding would let Kara die, but Benny Ray wouldn't let the young man die. All it would earn Benny Ray would be a bullet in the back of the head, probably. As time went on and things played out there was still a chance he would come out of this alive, but he wasn't holding his breath.

SILVER STAR BAR
HERMOSA BEACH, CALIFORNIA
THURSDAY: DAY THREE: T + 23 HOURS 45 MINUTES

CJ and Chance had arrived a few hours ago. Matt hadn't been surprised to see them. They had both walked into his office grim faced, dropped their bags and informed their old boss that they wanted in and were ready to do anything needed. Matt unshaven and tired had accepted their offer of help gratefully, but explained that as yet he knew no more than when he had spoken to CJ earlier. CJ asked if he had managed to get through to Colonel Shaw. Matt had explained what CJ had known. He'd got nowhere. In the end he'd gone back to Trout, who at least was in touch with the local CIA man who was on site. Trout had promised Matt whatever he wanted, including use of the Company jet which even now sat on the ground at LAX. The men had sat and waited quiet with their own thoughts. Chance had finally persuaded Matt to sleep for a few hours, promising they would wake him the minute there was any news

When Margo's call had come through the relief was palpable. As he put the phone down Matt hit the desk in frustration. CJ and Chance had been joined by Deke and Nick, who had been asleep when they arrived. The four men watched Matt, as frustrated as he was. Eventually he spoke.

"Margo thinks the plane will be off the ground soon. I want it tracked every inch of the way. Let's talk to Trout."

They left his office and walked to the basement.

FLIGHT 844
HEATHROW AIRPORT
THURSDAY: DAY THREE: T + 24 HOURS

As the plane taxied to the end of the runway, Holding came over to Benny Ray and sat opposite him. He smiled.

"We're going on a little trip runt and I think you might be coming with us. Time for a little payback."

Beside him, Benny Ray could feel Kara squirm in anticipation. Holding continued, never taking his eyes off Benny Ray.

"Kara, you know I told you I left the Marines, well what I didn't tell you was that I was court- martialed and this man here is the reason why. He broke the code, he ran to the authorities and spilled his guts and they believed him. They took his word against mine, a new recruit not in training for eighteen weeks and they believed him and not me."

Holding was ranting now. At seventeen Benny Ray Riddle, a skinny pimple-faced youth who looked like he hadn't been fed in weeks, enlisted in the Marines. Holding was his first drill instructor. Short for his age, the nick name 'runt' that Holding had used was apt. Benny Ray had taken to military life like a fish to water. He had run til he dropped. The ten mile runs every morning had been hard, but he had coped. He had pleased his drill instructors with his enthusiasm and willingness to try anything and learn from his mistakes. He had made friends easily and his slow southern drawl had been the subject of much ribbing early on, which he had taken in good part and given back in spades. Everything they did during those eighteen weeks had convinced him that he was right to leave the trailer park. Only one thing made him regret his decision to join up.

In his platoon of twenty-four men was a young man, just a little older than him, another Southern boy. Johnnie Maze had come from a farm and while he wan't stupid, he was a little slow. He was also a big boy, six foot two, even at seventeen; he was overweight and not fit. Holding had made his life hell. Benny Ray and Johnnie had become firm friends early on and many a night Benny Ray had consoled the young Texan farm boy. Basic PT had come easy to Benny Ray, but Johnnie struggled constantly. Running ten miles with a thirty pound pack was difficult enough for all of the recruits in Platoon Two of Company C, but especially Johnnie. He had difficulty with the obstacle course, the push ups and sit ups, but Benny Ray was there to help him as much as he could. Hand to hand combat and rappelling were foreign concepts to Johnnie, but he delivered a haymaker that left your teeth rattling in your head. But when it came to shooting Johnnie was an angel. He could shoot better than most of the instructors from day one. It was he who helped young Benny Ray lay the foundations for him to become the accomplished sniper he was now.

Holding had picked on Benny Ray from the minute he reported for duty and when Benny Ray and Johnnie became friends, Holding's attention fell on Johnnie Maze. While Benny Ray was small and skinny he was also an ornery little bastard who came back for more every time he was slapped down, never giving in no matter how hard things got. Johnnie on the other hand could be broken and Holding saw that and made it his goal in life to do the breaking. Despite Benny Ray's protection Holding found the opportunities to make Johnnie's life hell time and time again. The closer it got to the end of their basic training and the more likely it seemed that Johnnie would survive and pass out the more determined Holding became. In a four day period he had the recruits out in all weathers with little sleep and even less rest. Johnnie didn't survive, it became all too much and one night while they were out on manoeuvres he walked out of camp and never came back. Holding gloated like the rooster crowing at dawn and Benny Ray was held back by three other recruits who prevented him from punching out Holding.

It was Benny Ray who had the last word though. On their return to camp he had reported Holding. The other recruits had supported him and Holding was ignominiously dismissed at a Court Martial that had Benny Ray as chief witness for the prosecution. No criminal charges had been brought against Holding and Johnnie had turned up six months later back in Texas a broken man. Benny Ray had visited him while on furlough and had hardly been able to look at the friendly, lively, young man with whom he shared so much. Johnnie sat looking out of the window of his bedroom not talking. His parents told Benny Ray he hardly ever spoke now and never left his room.

It was at that point in his young life that Benny Ray developed his intense dislike of power that was exercised without consideration and while that small, skinny, young man grew into the man he was today he never lost the dislike and that caused his eventual downfall and parting of ways from the Marines, when there was no one to hold him back from punching a UN Blue Hat who had been an asshole to some local people they had been sent to help, not persecute.

Holding hadn't forgotten and now he wanted revenge. Benny Ray had been in the wrong place at the wrong time when he boarded Flight 844.

"Tommy," Kara wheedled. "Can I play with him?"

Holding took his eyes off Benny Ray as he finished his tirade and refocused on Kara with something amounting to distaste.

"Leave him alone, Kara. I mean it."

She pouted, but moved closer to Benny Ray anyway. She felt confident in her relationship with Holding.

"Get rid of the boy," Holding ordered.

Benny Ray tried to object, but Kara placed her handgun on his thigh in warning. The plane turned in a large lazy circle so that it faced the way it had come. One of the hijackers called the boy over and holding his hand lowered him out of the open doorway. When his arm was extended as far as possible the hijacker let the boy go and he fell the rest of the way to the ground. Bruised and shaken the boy ran for his life as the door was shut and the plane started down the runway and eventually lifted off into the skies over London.

In the VIP lounge they had lost sight of the plane as it reached the end of the runway and it was not until a walkie talkie held by one of the Prime Minister's aides announced that the boy was safe that the crowd of people knew what had happened. Margo turned to Abel who also had a walkie talkie and asked about Benny Ray. Abel shook his head and saw the pain on Margo's face.

"Abel, I need a phone to contact my people now."

He took her back to Mathers' Office where she told Matt that the plane was off the ground and Benny Ray was still inside. Matt reassured her that they had everything covered at his end and the plane wouldn't be able to go anywhere without them knowing it. She was still worried.

"What do I do, Matt? Do I stay here until you have a location or do I come back?"

Matt was unequivocal. "Get back, Margo. I need you here."

Abel had overheard the conversation and was already dialling a number on his cell phone. He held up a finger to her while he spoke. Clicking shut the phone he forestalled her question.

"With the Ambassador's help I can get you on a plane home in two hours from Gatwick, but you'll have to change at Newark."

"That I can live with. Thank you, Abel, and I'm sorry I cracked your head."

She stood and kissed him on the cheek. He blushed. Perhaps he wasn't over Margo even now. He took her by the hand and led her to his car. They would have to get the paperwork sorted to allow her to travel without her passport.

THE WHITE HOUSE
WASHINGTON D.C.
THURSDAY: DAY THREE: T + 31 HOURS

The American President had waited patiently for the British Prime Minister to come to the telephone. He had been informed that the man's son was safe and wanted to pass on his good wishes, but more importantly he wanted to find out what action the PM was going to take next. He still had an American citizen on that plane and there was no way that he was going to allow the Brits to take any precipitous action which would jeopardise that life, especially in re-election year. When the Prime Minister eventually came to the phone platitudes were exchanged and the Prime Minister quickly came to the point. Despite the "Special Relationship" both men had definite ideas as to what they wanted to do. Eventually, the President was able to convince the Prime Minister that shooting down the plane was not a good idea, not only would an innocent man lose his life but the Bearer Bonds would be lost permanently.

"We shall of course track them. Harriers have already been scrambled and are in pursuit," The Prime Minister said pompously.

The President sighed inwardly, he really didn't like this Brit, considering him a jerk, but diplomacy meant he had to humour him. Once again he explained.

"The man on board is a specialist. He is an ex-Marine and part of an elite force that we use regularly for operations where we want complete deniability. The rest of his group have an added incentive to catch these people and I am told," at this point the President looked up at Trout who was nodding forcibly, "that they are the very best. They will recover your Bonds."

The British Prime Minister blustered for a few more seconds, but gave the President the permission he wanted to proceed with a rescue mission that would result in the hijackers being returned to American soil, thereby avoiding the mess of a deportation application and on conviction being handed down a death penalty. The Prime Minister might be a jerk, but his son had just been held to ransom and the man wanted revenge and life imprisonment, the most that could be handed out under the British justice system, seemed inadequate right now. Of course that it also meant that the Bearer Bonds would be returned would be an added bonus, the advantages of which could not be overlooked.

FLIGHT 844
OVER THE ATLANTIC
APPROX. 500 MILES OFF THE COAST OF FLORIDA
THURSDAY: DAY THREE: T + 31 HOURS

Benny Ray had fought off Kara's advances throughout the whole flight. It had earned him a couple of slaps and a back hand with her gun that had left his cheek cut and bleeding, but it had been worth it. Now the hijackers were getting into parachutes. Benny Ray guessed there would be six not seven. The plane banked to the left and dropped to twenty five thousand feet. A few minutes later the hijacker who had been piloting the plane appeared in the main cabin to report that the auto pilot had been engaged. Holding walked to Benny Ray and hauled him to his feet.

"This is where we say goodbye runt. We're leaving, our lift has arrived and we have to go. You on the other hand have to stay and unfortunately this plane has only enough fuel for another two hours flight. After that you and the plane will plummet into the South Atlantic and you will be a stain on the ocean. A fitting end for you, I think."

Benny Ray swore and Holding laughed. Kara was told to cuff him to something. Pulling Benny Ray along she headed for the toilet. The door was opened and four of the hijackers jumped. Holding stood by the open door and called to Kara to hurry up. She waved him on saying that she would be right there. The toilet was a few paces from the open rear door and Benny Ray watched Holding jump. As Kara unlocked one of his wrists he moved punching her in the stomach. She staggered back to the door, but brought the gun round on him before he could press home his advantage. Benny Ray took a step towards her as she gasped for air. She took a step back.

"Don't!" She warned.

"You're not leaving me now are you, now that we're finally alone?" Benny Ray sneered.

Kara laughed. "You had your chance, lover boy, but you blew it."

"I don't think so," said Benny Ray and he jumped for her.

Knocking the gun up and away from him he grabbed Kara's parachute by the strapping at her back and pushing hard he drove both of them backwards out of the open door. They fell like a stone.

SILVER STAR BAR
HERMOSA BEACH, CALIFORNIA
THURSDAY: DAY THREE: T + 32 HOURS

The only light in the room came from the screen. CJ sat in front of the computer, his eyes squinting. Matt and Chance crowded over his shoulder.

"Okay," he said pushing the chair back. "We've got it."

He stood, collected some papers from the printer and walked over to the equipment table. Deke and Nick joined the others. CJ spread satellite photos across the table.

"Because of the 'Special Relationship' between our two fine countries NORAD have been tracking Flight 844 since the moment it took off. The flight path had it headed for Florida, probably Miami, but an hour ago it dropped to 25,000 and changed course heading due south."

"Jump height," Chance muttered.

Matt nodded. CJ continued.

"Satellite infra red imaging has six contacts leaving the plane a little over an hour ago."

"Only six," asked Nick. "But there were six hijackers. What about Benny Ray?"

Eventually Matt answered. "There were just six, Nick."

There was silence for a second and then Nick piped up again.

"But isn't that over the ocean?"

"Yes and this is where we have a problem." Matt took up the briefing. "There are three ships in the area. Two are American fishing boats, but the third looks interesting. It's a Colombian registered container ship called "Pride of Manchester"."

CJ raised an eyebrow.

"As of one hour ago it was at twenty-eight degrees thirty minutes North by seventy-one degrees thirty minutes West on a bearing of two hundred and fifty degrees, which puts it right in the middle of the drop zone."

CJ took over. "According to British Customs the same ship left Felixstowe six days ago heading for Miami." CJ produced a photograph of the ship in question.

"This gentlemen is a box boat, a transatlantic long haul container ship. The boat has a Bill of Lading in the name of Thomas Holding, our chief bad guy."

Trout had provided Matt with a complete copy of all the recon images gathered by the ACP carried out by David Shaw's men and had supplemented that with his own files on the hijackers. CJ passed the recon images around whilst he introduced each man. He left Holding and the woman to last.

"The woman we have nothing on. She's British, but appears to be completely clean. Britain doesn't have a driving licence system that incorporates photo id and no National Identity Card Scheme, so identifying her is a problem, but Scotland Yard and MI5 have put all their resources on it. The man is different."

Matt tapped Holding's photo. "This is ex Drill Sergeant Thomas Eugene Holding. According to Trout he was court martialed and dishonourably discharged from the Marines. The chief witness at his Court Martial was a 17 year old recruit, one Benny Ray Riddle."

"What did the guy do?" Nick asked.

Matt explained the background to the Court Martial. As he finished Deke finally spoke.

"This isn't good."

No one disagreed with him. The phone rang jarring them all from their thoughts. Matt answered and reported to the rest of the team.

"It's Margo. She's at Newark."

He turned away and finished his conversation with Margo. The rest of the team went over the reports, photographs and recon images trying to extract every last ounce of information. Matt turned back.

"British Customs has confirmed that Holding's Bill of Lading is for a Scarab 43 AVS speedboat.'Pride of Manchester' is a little under five hundred miles off the coast of Southern Florida. My guess is that Holding will disembark within the next few hours and head for the US mainland. Trout has NORAD tasked to track him, but if you were him where would you head for?"

Deke answered. "The Everglades."

"Go to the top of the class, Deke!"

"The Everglades!" Nick moaned. "But they're wet and full of crocodiles."

"That's Alligators," Deke sighed.

"Alligators, smalligators," Nick whined. "They all have big teeth."

"All the better to eat you with," Deke smiled horribly and Nick took a step away from him.

"Ok guys." Matt raised his voice a little to bring the briefing back to order.

"Unfortunately for us the Everglades are nearly one and a half million acres of saw grass marshes, mangrove swamps, salt prairies and pinelands. The one thing in our favour is that we have an asset in place who knows the land like the back of his hand."

"We do?" Nick was surprised.

"Daryl Drummer," Matt smiled, "you've just been recalled to active duty."

NEWARK AIRPORT
NEW YORK
THURSDAY: DAY THREE: T + 32 HOURS

Margo listened to Matt's instructions and sighed as she put the phone down. She was tired, worried, hungry (she had never liked airline food) and dirty. The prospect of a six or seven hour flight to L.A. had been avoided. Instead she would be heading south to Miami, a much shorter journey. She couldn't remember if Newark had shower facilities and anyway she had no clothes to change into, her suitcase was still on flight 844. She took her wallet out of her back pocket, removed her Gold Card and spoke to it.

"Let's go shopping."

'PRIDE OF MANCHESTER'
500 MILES OFF THE COAST OF FLORIDA
ATLANTIC OCEAN
THURSDAY: DAY THREE: T + 32 HOURS

Benny Ray was hot. His shoulder was agony and he'd started to lose the feeling in his hands. He was sweating. It had to be at least forty degrees Celsius and the noise was deafening. He didn't know what was worse, the noise or the heat. Kara stood a few feet away watching him. He shifted position trying to eke out an iota of comfort, but only succeeded in making a different set of aching muscles complain. He grimaced as another round of cramps gripped him. Thirty six hours without food, water or sleep had left him exhausted and suffering from salt imbalance, the cause of the cramps. The drop in the ocean hadn't helped, nor had the dislocated shoulder.

"What's the matter, lover boy?" Kara laughed at him. "Want me to kiss it better?"

Benny Ray had tried ignoring her and baiting her, now he just felt ornery enough to be down right rude.

"Go to hell!" He snapped.

She stepped in close and placed her Glock against his cut cheek.

"Now, now don't be a naughty boy or I might have to hurt you and you wouldn't like that. I would, but you wouldn't, believe me."

"Give it your best shot."

"Now there's an offer I shouldn't refuse," she crooned," but I have to go and spend lots of money and as cute as you are, we don't have a future together. In fact you don't have a future at all. Well not after the next twelve hours."

Her free hand grabbed his chin and pulled his face close to hers.

"You like getting close to me, don't you, lover boy?

She kissed him hard on the lips and laughed in his face at his lack of response.

"The last few hours of your life could have been very pleasant. Your loss, lover boy."

She back handed him across the cheek with the butt of her gun. His head snapped back and the scabbed cut from earlier split open.

"Call it something to remember me by," she smiled as he hissed.

Her finger followed the trail of blood down his cheek. She licked his blood off of her finger and left him in the gloom of the engine room. The pounding noise continued and he sagged forward only to jerk back when the pain of his dislocated shoulder pulled him up short.

He closed his eyes and controlled his breathing trying to lessen the pain. A few minutes and he started to relax. His mind drifted back to the fall through the sky. He had thought he would die. Kara had refused to open the chute. With his grip on her harness he couldn't release one hand to do it; he had to rely on her. They had fallen head first, but he had managed to manoeuvre her belly to earth to slow the descent. He had shouted at her to pull the cord and had heard her laugh. The woman was totally crazy. He had to try and pull the cord. Keeping the grip with his strongest right hand, he slowly moved his left hand across the webbing of the harness. Guessing their height to be about 15,000 feet he knew it had to be now. Her chute would have been set for her weight alone, with his added weight there was no leeway. As his hand moved across she pulled the cord. The impact of the chute opening ripped the shoulder of his right arm. He heard the shoulder pop and lost his grip with that right hand. The left hand had grabbed one of the chute lines and he was left dangling from one arm, his right arm useless at his side. She had grabbed him by his belt and pulled him close relieving the strain on his left arm.

They had hit the water hard. Benny Ray had been ready for it, but the water was freezing and in the gloom under the sea he had struggled to kick himself to the surface. Kara's body and the chute combined to make that even more difficult and when he finally broke the surface he was gasping for breath. He could hear the crazy woman somewhere off to his left, laughing. With his shoulder dislocated he knew he was going to have to work hard to tread water for any length of time.

There was another noise in the background. As his body adjusted to the cold, which was numbing his shoulder at least, he was able to concentrate more on his surroundings. A floodlight swept across the sea to his right. He moved round and was confronted by a massive ship. As he blinked away the salt water he realised it was a container ship. A few seconds longer and as his eyes pierced the gloom he could see a small rubber rescue craft in the water. It was heading for him and Kara. There were people already in the small dinghy and Benny Ray sighed knowing that his nightmare would continue.

They had picked Kara up first and then come for him. He could have tried to avoid them, but where was he going to go and all they had to do was wait for him to surface, it was not as though he had many options. He was dragged in to the dinghy by a sailor who stared when he saw the handcuffs dangling from one wrist. Holding sat in the stern of the dinghy his Glock pointed at Benny Ray. Without taking his eyes off his prisoner, he spoke to Kara.

"Do you think this time you can handcuff him?"

She did as she was told. The return to the boat was fast and Benny Ray soon found himself on board and facing the person he assumed was the Captain. He spoke Spanish to Holding. Benny Ray feigned ignorance and hoped Holding didn't remember that he could speak the language. The Captain was obviously in on the game and Holding was shaking his hand. The sailor who had been on the rescue boat pointed at the handcuffs and asked his Captain what was going on. The Captain told the sailor to report to the bridge where he would explain in private. Reluctantly the sailor assented. The Captain told Holding to get Benny Ray out of the way and he was soon being dragged away by Kara. She had handcuffed him to some piping in the engine room, his hands above his head. Cold and wet he hung his head and cursed.

THE EVERGLADES
FRIDAY: DAY FOUR: T + 39 HOURS

Margo stood outside Daryl Drummer's home. You couldn't really call it a house, it was too ramshackle for that, it was just a collection of planks by the look of it, which someone had tried to nail together. When she left Newark, Margo had been relatively happy. She had bought some new clothes, found a shower and a flight. The only problem was that the flight was a package one and had been full off screaming children all on their way to Disney Land. Well they weren't all screaming children, but after what she had been through it had felt like it. She got no sleep and got more pissed off the longer the flight continued. By the time she landed and had to queue to get a hire car she was in a rare mood and woe betide anyone who got in her way. Daryl Drummer had unwittingly put himself squarely in Margo's sights.

He heard her shouting through his semi slumber but chose to ignore it. The voice sounded familiar, but he'd been out late last night with customers from his airboat business and he needed the sleep. He checked the clock when he first heard the noise and was surprised at the time. Sleep was just returning when the voice started up again. This time he recognised it as female, but even that didn't persuade him to stir. The next thing he knew, he was being dragged by one foot out of his bed. His head hit the floor hard and he tried to bring his hands up protect himself, but then he realised who was pulling him out of his bed and the fact that he was very naked and his hands went elsewhere to cover his embarrassment.

"Margo what the hell are you doing?" He shouted.

"Get your lazy backside up and get dressed, Drummer. I've had a really bad couple of days and I'm not in the mood for an overweight, hung over reject from the Beach Boys who needs his ass wiping before he can get himself out of bed at a reasonable hour."

The tirade continued even as Drummer tried to explain that he was not overweight and didn't like the Beach Boys. When Margo finally stopped berating him it was as much as he could mutter "Yes Ma'am" and "No Ma'am" to her demands for a cup of decent coffee. Once Drummer was dressed and the coffee poured, Margo started to calm down. A sheepish looking Drummer chanced a question.

"Want to tell me what's going on?"

Margo explained what had happened. Drummer let her run through it all without interruption, but once she had finished he asked some pertinent questions, some she could answer and others she couldn't. She told him that Matt was on his way with the rest of the team and that they would be arriving shortly.

"I'd better get out my pinny and start baking," Drummer said seriously.

Margo looked at Drummer who seemed to be in earnest. Then she started to laugh and the relief of finally thinking that she was doing something, taking some action to get Benny Ray back washed over her and she kept on laughing til tears fell. Drummer handed her a dirty handkerchief from his back pocket. Margo smiled and used her own.

"I had to leave him behind, Daryl."

Margo startled him by using his first name.

"Sometimes you have to. You didn't have a choice. What good would it have done if you'd stayed behind? You could have put him in more danger."

"I know that." Her eyes flashed at him. "It doesn't stop me feeling guilty about it though. What if he didn't get off that plane?"

"Then he's dead by now." Drummer was brutal and she glared at him as if she could break him in two.

"He's not dead."

"Then let's start planning on how to get him back."

Margo nodded and sighed. "Where's Matt?"

'PRIDE OF MANCHESTER'
ATLANTIC OCEAN, OFF COAST OF FLORIDA
FRIDAY: DAY FOUR: T + 39 HOURS

Holding got up from his bunk and looked at Kara sleeping in the bed opposite. She had finally come back last night after 'playing' with Riddle, as she put it. You had to admire the guts of the guy, throwing himself out of a plane like that with no chute. Little good it had done him as he'd only delayed his own death by a few hours and as far as Holding was concerned how it happened was nothing to worry about as long as the runt did die. And he'd see to that.

The plan had gone as smooth as silk, but so it should. It had taken two years to plan and it was not without its problems on the way. But here he was just a few hours away from freedom and a fortune big enough to keep him extremely wealthy and happy for a very long time. For the time being Kara would serve a purpose, but he could see she was becoming unwound and that would jeopardise his retirement, eventually, but for now she gave him the sort of thrill he only ever got before in combat. The sort of thrill this job had given him. He looked at himself in the mirror and smiled. Soon it would be just him and Kara and everyone else would be dead. The trunk was in his room. He opened the lid and ran his fingers over the machinery inside. All he had to do was punch in five numbers and the bomb was set. He pressed the keys slowly and lovingly. A small green light flashed on and the read out showed twelve hours and counting down. Time to go to work he thought.

He found his way to the area set aside for the rest of his men. They were all asleep on bunks. It had been a long time coming and they deserved their rest. Well they would get plenty of that now, in fact much more than they probably ever imagined. One of them stirred in his sleep. Holding slowly screwed the silencer on to his Glock. As he fired the first shot at point blank range one of the men woke. By the time all four were dead a few seconds had passed and three of them had never known what hit them. Holding congratulated himself, unscrewed the silencer, checked the magazine and walked towards the Bridge. Just a few more chores to do and then he would be away. Life was sweet.

THE EVERGLADES
FRIDAY: DAY FOUR: T + 40 HOURS

The team had arrived about five minutes previously. Nick had taken one look around and commented sarcastically.

"Nice place you got here."

"I like it. The vermin tend to stay away … mostly," Drummer retorted.

"Don't know why. Would have thought they would have felt right at home here," Nick quipped.

Matt restrained Drummer. "There are more important things here people."

Margo and Drummer were fully briefed. After some while Drummer spoke.

"If what you want is these guys on a platter then I can do best from here. If they're heading this way then they would have planned ahead. This is a seriously professional job and that means no loose ends. Someone here will know something and if they know then I can find it out."

Matt nodded.

"We on the other hand are off to Hurlburt Field. Trout has arranged a chopper and we are going to pay that boat a visit. By now," Matt checked his watch, "it should be within range. We'll have to refuel, but only once."

Drummer grunted. "Trout swung you Hurlburt Field. The man has some pull."

"Actually, he didn't have to. This one comes down from The White House. When Trout told them Benny Ray was involved they gave us everything we wanted. The British Government want these guys back real bad. Apparently they are working out now which government is more embarrassed, ours because Holding is an American citizen and ex Marine and the Brits because Holding swiped the Prime Minister's kid out from under everyone's noses, including the SAS."

"Believe me, the guys from Hereford will be seriously pissed at this one and if we don't get Holding back then they will not rest until he goes home in a body bag. They take these things very personally," CJ explained.

Matt continued. "Drummer do you need anything?"

Drummer shook his head.

"Right then people, let's go."

They moved out together. Climbing into the rented SUV, Matt put his hand on Margo's shoulder. "Good to have you back."

She looked around at the four faces in the vehicle., "It's good to be back."

She didn't smile. There was one face missing.

HURLBURT FIELD
US SPEC OPS AIR BASE
FLORIDA
FRIDAY: DAY FOUR: T + 44 HOURS

Trout had obviously called ahead and their admission was swift and friendly. They were directed to the hangers and the MH53 Pave Low IV was already warmed up and waiting. The Pave Low was used by the 20th Special Operations Squadron, known as "The Green Hornets" who were based at Hurlburt Field. They would be providing the transpo on this trip. The fact that a flight crew of six were needed meant that the team had to use the outside help. Chance checked in with the Pilot, a twenty-six year old raven haired beauty who was all business. She had already carried out her pre flight check and was ready to go. Deke confirmed the refuelling arrangements with the Chief Engineer. The Pave Low had a maximum range of six hundred and thirty miles with a top speed of one hundred and sixty five miles per hour and they were hoping to refuel just once on this trip but were ready for more. As the Sixteenth Special Operations Wing was also based at Hurlburt, the MC130 Combat Shadow would be refuelling them courtesy of the "Global Eagles" Fifteenth SOS.

CJ and Margo visited the Armoury to pick up the weapons and pyro they needed and found the same helpful attitude. It made a nice change; normally they had to chew someone's ear off to get what they wanted. As they had the time, Matt paid a courtesy visit to the Base Commander. Whilst he was there he was handed up to date photos and Intel showing the most recent location of the ship and its projected course. He thanked the superior officer and headed back to the hangar. Confirming the situation with Chance they were soon airborne with a flight time of just under four hours.

PRIDE OF MANCHESTER
APPROX. 330 MILES OFF THE COAST OF FLORIDA
ATLANTIC OCEAN
FRIDAY: DAY FOUR: T + 44 HOURS

Holding considered the action he now had to take. It had been necessary to bring the Captain in to the plan to ensure the pick up after the jump and more importantly to ensure that Holding had the ability to leave the container ship when the US coastline was within reach. The Scarab had a sufficient range and they were just within that now. The bearer bonds were packed away and the Scarab was positioned on deck ready to be lowered into the water by the ship's own crane. The Captain and crew had served their purpose and as such were expendable. He and Kara would take the necessary steps to eliminate the crew and they would then leave and motor into obscurity. Kara was starting in the crew's quarters and he would start in the engine room. The Captain would get his reward last. As Holding got nearer to the engine room the heat and noise increased. There were only two crew on duty, he was expecting three, and they were quickly despatched. He stopped opposite Benny Ray, who just stared at Holding.

"Who would have thought it would come to this, runt. Last time we met it was you who hung me out to dry and now look at you. Still pathetic," Holding gloated.

Benny Ray couldn't deny that he probably looked pathetic, he certainly felt it. Every part of him hurt. He had no feeling in his hands and his shoulder sent pain flaring through his body every time he slumped forward. It was getting more difficult to avoid that now, the more tired he got, and he was now completely exhausted, the more his body tried to rest, tried to make him sleep. He wanted to wipe the smile off Holding's face, but he felt as weak as a kitten and knew that even if he was freed then and there all he could manage would be to collapse in a heap on the floor. Benny Ray couldn't be bothered to respond, he could hardly think straight and wasn't sure if what he wanted to say would come out right. His tongue ran across dry cracked lips and he simply stared at Holding.

"Suddenly remembered how to keep your mouth shut? It's a bit late now, Riddle. But think on this. You don't get a quick death like those poor bastards. I want you to know that your life is going to end. I want you to see it crumble before you just like I had to, that day you lied to the Court Martial." Holding stopped to take a breath. "In five hours a bomb is going off and you and this boat will be in a million little pieces. Think on that and contemplate the end of your pitiful existence."

The only part of Holding's tirade that significantly impinged on Benny Ray was the word bomb. He tried to concentrate hard on what Holding was saying. It was difficult, but he managed it. He smiled as Holding came to an end.

"Johnnie Maze says hi," he croaked.

Holding brought the gun up into Benny Ray's face. His finger rested on the trigger. Time seemed to stand still. Eventually Holding dropped his arm to his side. He took a deep breath.

"I shall tell him your last thoughts were of him." Holding turned and walked away.

Benny Ray drooped forward as far as he could until the pain in his shoulder was just this side of excruciating. He tried to remind himself about the bomb, he had to remember.

Holding was still seething when he met up with Kara outside the bridge.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"Nothing," he snapped. "Let's get this over and done with."

They both stepped on the bridge. The Captain smiled at Holding and offered him a cigarette. Holding declined. There were two other men on the bridge. He and Kara could manage them easily.

"Well, Captain, the time has come for us to part and I wanted to say thank you personally." Holding oozed charm. The Captain indicated to the two crewmen to leave. Kara slipped out behind them smiling.

"You have my money?" The Captain had a strong accent and his English wasn't that good. Holding reached behind him, pulled out the Glock and shot the Captain between the eyes. The shocked look on his face was still there when his body hit the floor. As Holding left the bridge Kara stepped forward and nodded her assent to Holding's unspoken question. Holding took her hand and led her to the stern of the ship. It was easy enough to lower the Scarab into the water, the whole system was automated and Holding had made sure that the seamen who rigged the Scarab had explained to him how it worked. Once safely in the water, Holding started the engine. The sun shone brightly in the sky and Holding looked up and smiled. Life was good. They were soon under way.

MH53 PAVE LOW IV
185 MILES OFF THE COAST OF FLORIDA
ATLANTIC OCEAN
FRIDAY: DAY FOUR: T + 47 HOURS

As the helicopter approached 'The Pride of Manchester' the gunners manned the fifty calibre machine guns. They came in low from the rear. Matt knew that there was no way they would be able to approach undetected, but they needed to protect themselves as much as possible. The machine guns would be needed he was sure. The closer they got the more nervous everyone became. Once the boat was insight they tensed for action. Nothing happened. There was no movement on deck. The chopper hovered above the deck and still there was nothing. Matt looked at the team not sure what to do next. He had expected stiff resistance.

"Major," the raven haired Chief Pilot asked over the head phones. "What are your orders, Sir?"

CJ shouted, "It could be a trap Major, they could have pressure rigged the deck."

Matt nodded. He signalled to the engineers that they would rappel down to the deck and let CJ check it out before they let the chopper land. Matt informed the Chief Pilot, who nodded and repositioned the helicopter swiftly and efficiently. CJ and Matt went first, Deke and Chance followed. Margo and Nick were last. As they prepared to rappel Nick looked at Margo and smiled.

"I think I'm starting to like this you know." Margo sighed and stepped out of the helicopter.

It took CJ very little time to ascertain that the deck was not rigged and that it was safe for the helicopter to land. The Pave Low settled gently on to the deck and the rotors slowly stopped. As the noise abated Matt gathered his own team and the flight team around him.

"This could still be a trap people, so I want the chopper secured at all times. Lieutenant I want your gunners on board and on guard at all times."

"Aye, aye Sir," she replied. "I think it would be appropriate to leave a pilot on board, Sir, as well, in case we have to leave quickly."

"Good idea," Matt nodded. "Okay, we split into groups. Go careful people, we know what we're up against and I don't want anyone taking unnecessary risks."

Deke who had been on point spoke quietly, but enough to attract Matt's attention.

"Matt, two o'clock, movement, fifty yards."

Matt raised his voice. "Okay people, move out."

He had signalled to the group to take their positions. Chance, at the back, had already slipped away and was making his way around the far side of the deck. Matt led the group around the deck in the opposite direction to Chance. The hope was that whoever was watching would be distracted by the larger group. A shout and commotion from the position Deke had indicated had Matt and Margo running forward. They stopped short as Chance appeared with a struggling seaman by the scruff of his neck. Matt brought up his MP5 and strode forward. The terrified man was gabbling away in a language that Matt thought was Spanish. He signalled Margo forward and she and the seaman were soon deep in conversation. Deke and Nick watched the perimeters. Margo stood.

"He's here, in the engine room," she stated, relieved.

"Holding?" Matt queried.

Margo did a double take at Matt and an amazed look came over her face, "No, Benny Ray."

"And Holding?" Matt pushed.

Margo took a breath and closed her eyes.

"Holding and the woman have gone; they left about three hours ago in a speedboat. All the crew and the rest of Holding's men are dead. Holding shot them."

"Damn!" Matt turned back to the group. "Lieutenant, secure the prisoner until we can verify his story."

Chance handed the man over to the Chief Pilot who frogmarched him back to the helicopter. Margo had already left at a run, heading for the engine room.

"Chance, go with her. The rest of us stick to the original plan. Deke, Nick, take the bridge, CJ you're with me, you two guys work forward from the stern. Go careful."

Margo blessed the time she had taken on the flight from Hurlburt to go over the ship's specifications. She might not be as good as Benny Ray at map reading, but she could get herself to the engine room. It was a long way down but she didn't get lost once. The noise inside the engine room was surprising. The room was enormous and the heat incredible. There was no point in calling out no one would have heard her over the noise of the engines, she would have to do this visually. Chance arrived a few seconds after her. She signalled him to start at the other end of the vast room and he ran off. She noticed that he came to a sliding stop halfway along the passageway. Chance put his hand to his ear piece and shouted to her. She was already running towards him.

Benny Ray was hardly conscious. He was muttering to himself, but they couldn't make out what he was saying. Taking the handcuff key from his boot, Chance quickly released the sniper.

"Benny Ray," Margo shouted his name, but he couldn't hear or didn't realise who she was. His eyes weren't focussing and he appeared totally disorientated.

"We need to get him out of here," Margo shouted.

Chance nodded and started to pull Benny Ray up by his hand. Whilst neither could hear the scream, both saw it and felt it. Benny Ray went limp. Chance achieved what had eluded Benny Ray for so many hours, oblivion. Taking Benny Ray carefully in a fireman's carry, with Margo helping they started to make their way out of the engine room. As soon as they were far enough away for Margo to hear herself without shouting, she reported to Matt. She could hear CJ's shout of joy over the comm. unit and smiled herself. Matt informed her that the seaman's story was panning out; so far they had found bodies, but no one alive.

They continued to the deck and as they reached Matt and CJ, Benny Ray was slowly coming to. Matt took Benny Ray's body and eased it out of the hatch. Guiding the sniper gently to the deck, Matt looked up to see the Chief Pilot arriving with a first aid kit and water. Margo took the water from her and cradling Benny Ray's head in her arm tried to get him to drink. He tried to gulp the water down and Margo spoke to him, calming him and ordering him to sip the water. His eyes opened and he focussed on Margo.

"Sweetpea," he croaked. As the Chief Pilot took his pulse, he grimaced.

"Shoulder."

Margo pushed the other woman's hand away and the pilot looked at Matt for confirmation.

"Stand down, Lieutenant," he ordered.

She stood back and Margo carried out the initial medical assessment.

"I think the shoulder is dislocated. The wrists are badly swollen and bruised. I'm not sure about the hands."

Matt looked at the swollen discoloured hands and winced. Benny Ray was trying to talk. Margo was calming him, but he was still struggling. Matt bent down by his second in command's side and tried to make out what was happening.

"Benny Ray, report."

The sniper was repeating one word over and over. "Bomb."

'PRIDE OF MANCHESTER'
APPROX.178 MILES OFF THE COAST OF FLORIDA
ATLANTIC OCEAN
FRIDAY: DAY FOUR: T + 47 HOURS 30 MINUTES

Matt and Chance had helped Benny Ray to the Pave Low and settled him into a seat. The Chief Pilot got permission from Matt to carry out further first aid. She took his blood pressure and temperature and set up a drip. The two engineers had been recalled and as Deke and Nick arrived Matt was pulling the prisoner from the chopper.

"Margo, you and Deke find out what this guy knows. If there's a bomb on this ship I want to know where."

Deke stepped up to the man, who'd started to relax during his time in the helicopter, and walked him to one side. Margo her face set hard followed the two men. The seaman was already trying to explain that it was not his fault, that he knew nothing, scared that they were blaming him for the state of their team mate.

Matt was talking to CJ.

"CJ, can you defuse this bomb?"

CJ shook his head as he answered. "How long's a piece of string, Major. I blow things up not take them apart."

Matt was exasperated. "But surely if you put them together you can disarm them?"

"Theoretically yes, but it depends what it is. Bloody hell, Major, we haven't even got a look at the damn thing yet, give me a break."

The Chief Pilot interrupted, "Sir, if my engineers can be of any use..." She didn't finish her sentence.

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

Margo returned a smile on her face. "He knows nothing about any bomb" She stated simply.

"So why the smile?"

Margo continued, "However he did help unload a chest from Holding's boat. It was stowed in Holding's cabin and as far as he knows its still there."

"Good place to start, Major," CJ commented.

"Right, Margo, get this guy to show you to the cabin. CJ go with them and ,Lieutenant, your men too."

The two engineers were already waiting. One of them held a tool box. Margo grabbed the seaman who, after Deke had finished with him, would have been prepared to swear that black was white, if it had got him away from the blond haired, body-pierced giant. Unorthodox looks came in useful sometimes. Matt climbed into the helicopter. He needed to check on Benny Ray and report to Trout. Holding was still out there. The communication with Trout came first. Their handler had his own report.

"Drummer has come up empty so far. He's still out there and hasn't given up yet, but it's not looking good."

"OK, let me know if he comes up with anything."

"Will do, Matt. Good luck." The last two words held a world of meaning.

Matt turned to Benny Ray. The sniper looked no better physically, but his eyes had lost that lack of focus and his voice was more than a hoarse whisper now. As Benny Ray leaned forward Matt placed his hand squarely on the shorter man's chest.

"Stay still and that's an order."

"Aye, aye Sir," he said quietly.

"Lieutenant?" Matt queried.

The Lieutenant came to attention. "Exhaustion, dehydration, lack of food, disorientation and the cramping should ease as his electrolytes are rebalanced." She pointed to the drip. "The shoulder is dislocated. I want to administer a pain killer, but so far I seem to be meeting resistance to that suggestion," she stated diplomatically.

Benny Ray had been more colourful in his rejection of the idea when she had suggested it.

"Don't want it, Major, and don't need it."

"Benny Ray, are you sure?" Matt asked, but saw the determination in his blue eyes before he got another reply.

The sniper nodded. Benny Ray asked Matt about the bomb. He had nothing to report.

Ensuring that Benny Ray was in good hands, Matt set off for Holding's quarters getting directions from Margo over the comm. unit. When he arrived the small cabin was full of people and he could tell CJ's patience was wearing thin very quickly. He turned to Margo and told her to take the seaman back to the Pave Low and stay with Benny Ray. Margo went without comment. That left CJ, the two engineers and him. CJ was on his knees staring into a chest. He ran a hand through his hair and looked up at Matt. His hand wiped his mouth and he didn't look happy. Matt didn't need to ask to tell that things weren't good.

"Do your best, CJ."

CJ had basic demolition training and what he had picked up along the way, but this sort of thing was way beyond that. The timer was counting down and stood at eighty-four minutes twenty-five seconds. He was hampered by the fact that the bomb was housed in the chest. Getting at its innards was the first task.

"Ok, Gents," he said to the engineers, "let's go to work."

They basically took the chest apart to leave the bomb casing standing in the middle of the four sides. A panel on the side was revealed and slowly CJ unscrewed the six screws that held it in place. The panel was very gently removed, CJ checking before every move for booby traps. Taking a torch he looked inside the panel. He was surprised to see that whilst it would take a while to defuse it was not that complicated. He couldn't see any secondary wiring that indicated hidden triggers nor any other form of booby trap. Holding must have been supremely confident to leave such a straightforward device, either that or over confident. CJ judged the latter and chuckled to himself.

"Piece of cake."

CJ reported to Matt and told him that it would take about sixty minutes, but he could do the job.

"That's cutting it fine, CJ."

"Actually it reminds me of the time my Grandmother, God rest her soul..."

Matt cut him short. "CJ, the bomb!"

"Yes, Sir," CJ replied, as if just remembering that he had a bomb to defuse.

Matt pulled the comm. unit out of his ear but not before he could hear CJ saying to the unsuspecting engineers,

"Have you heard the one about the purple monkey?"

CJ and the two engineers appeared back on deck fifty-nine minutes later. A large grin split CJ's face.

"You know, Major, I could've found a new career in the Bomb Squad."

"They wouldn't have you CJ," said Benny Ray.

"Hey man, good to see you alive."

"Good to be alive, believe me," came Benny Ray's heartfelt reply.

"You won't be playing piano for a while with those hands, mate," CJ said, examining the sniper carefully.

"Tell me about it. The worse case of pins and needles I've ever had," he winced.

"We're leaving people," Matt informed them.

In the sky above them a Coastguard helicopter was hovering waiting for their landing spot. Take off was just as smooth as landing and they were soon on their way back to the mainland. En route Trout came on to inform them that Drummer believed he had located Holding. The co-ordinates were handed over and Matt ordered the Chief Pilot to divert first so they could drop Benny Ray off at a hospital and then go on to a suitable landing spot where Drummer would meet them.

"That's a negative, Major," Benny Ray shook his head.

Matt considered pulling rank, but one look at his second in command's determined face and he knew the only way he would get Benny Ray in hospital and keep him there before this thing was finished was to hog tie him and deliver him under armed guard.

"You do exactly what you're told, Benny Ray," Shepherd warned sternly. The sniper nodded.

THE EVERGLADES
FRIDAY: DAY FOUR: T + 50 HOURS

As the Pave Low landed, Matt and the team geared up. This time Benny Ray had not argued when he was told to stay put. He was regretting his earlier decision to refuse painkillers for his shoulder, but would not admit that now. He knew that if he accompanied the team he would be a liability and probably jeopardise someone else's life, but he didn't regret staying close by, as if by his presence he could help in some small way. Besides, he hated hospitals. He stood by the helicopter his shoulder immobilised, his arm in a sling, watching the team. Matt had handed him a Glock on the flight and he felt the metal warm against the small of his back, a comfort thing. He crossed to Margo and spoke quietly in her ear,

"Holding is one mean son of a bitch, but watch out for the woman, she's a psycho."

Margo nodded and Benny Ray checked her harness. Her hand touched his gently and he looked into her eyes,

"It's good to have you back," she whispered.

He squeezed her hand.

"Okay, people, let's move. We have to meet Drummer and still have two klicks before we get to the rendezvous and you know how he loves to be kept waiting," Matt ordered.

They set off at a gentle jog. Benny Ray watched them disappear into the long grass. He rested on the floor of the helicopter. The Lieutenant and her team were busy running checks and he was glad of the peace and quiet. He closed his eyes and slowly succumbed to his tiredness.

The five members of the team made good time and were early at the rendezvous point. Guarding the perimeter they heard Drummer before they saw him.

"You're getting sloppy in your old age, Drummer," Matt stated, as he gripped the older man's hand. "What have you got?"

Drummer reported that about six weeks ago a house was rented by one Timothy Edward Hands. Payment was made in cash in advance and the only demands made by the tenant were that the place be isolated and have a boat house. The rental was for six weeks and was up tomorrow. When the Realtor had been shown a photo of Holding he had positively identified him as Hands. What Drummer neglected to report was that the Realtor had been singularly unhelpful and had to be persuaded as to the error of his ways by Drummer in full threat mode, a sight which would reduce most men to a quaking mass. The Realtor had been no exception. Drummer quickly indicated the whereabouts of the house. It was about three kilometres away North North East. Drummer had photographs and a full description from his surveillance. He had seen no sign of life at the house, but was sure it was the one. The boat in the boathouse was a Scarab 43 AVS.

"That's too much of a coincidence, Major." CJ voiced Matt's own thoughts.

Matt issued orders on how they would take the house. Drummer led off at point and Chance took the rear. They moved fast at first, but slowed as they approached the target .The place was in darkness. The only sound was the myriad insect life that inhabited the Everglades and Nick's many and various attempts to swat or squash most of it against his own skin. Deke was tasked with taking the speedboat out of action, then he and Nick would establish a spot behind the boat house where they could cover any attempt to reach the waterway in case Holding had a contingency escape route. Chance and CJ would take the rear of the house and keep that covered, moving in on Matt's signal. He and Drummer would take the front. Altogether the team were a little too large for Matt's liking and he wanted to be sure that no one was caught in the crossfire. When Margo's name wasn't mentioned she started to seethe. She thought Matt was well past the days of making her the designated driver, but she had no assignment and Matt was already preparing to move out.

"Matt!" She hissed.

He turned to look at her.

"Margo, you're tired, probably exhausted, I don't want to risk you in there, you could get hurt."

As Margo started to object he continued. "And I don't want you getting anyone else hurt."

Her objection died in her throat as she accepted what he was saying. She was not at her best.

"Stay out here. We don't even know if they're in there. If they're out celebrating I don't want them coming back and surprising us while we're still inside. Take the opposite side of the house to Deke and Nick and keep your eyes open."

She nodded and set off to find cover a distance from the house that gave her the best angle.

The six men moved in. Chance and CJ quickly made their way to the rear and took up positions at the bottom of steps leading up to a veranda that ran round the whole of the house. There was still no sign of life.

"I don't like this, CJ," Chance muttered.

"You got that right, mate," came the reply.

Deke and Nick had no trouble getting into the boathouse. The Scarab rested quietly in place and Deke indicated that they needed to get on board to reach the engine compartment. Nick crept forward silently.

Drummer and Matt had the most difficult job. The boat house could be approached unobserved and there was a lot of vegetation to hide Chance and CJ, but the area in front of the house had been cleared and the two men would have to show themselves if they were going to make it to the house.

CJ put his foot on the bottom step and stopped instantly. Chance almost bumped in to him he stopped so quickly.

"CJ?" He asked.

CJ gulped, "The step is rigged."

Chance took a pace back and put the word out. "Major, the place is wired. It's a trap."

As Chance finished speaking the boat house exploded. Deke and Nick who were already running away were caught in the blast and thrown forward. Nick being lighter was propelled into the water by the force of the blast. As the two men had removed the engine cover Nick had spotted the telltale signs and had grabbed Deke by the neck, despite the height difference and had hauled him towards the exit. They almost made it before the blast.

The explosion galvanised CJ and Chance. Dropping to his knee CJ took a good look at the explosive under the step and grabbed Chance by the shoulder.

"Go, get out of here," he shouted.

"Not without my partner, partner," he grinned.

"Oh, hell!" CJ smiled and took off from the step like a startled rabbit. Chance's long legs put him in front of the small Brit, but both were caught by the blast wave and thrown on their faces in the dirt.

Margo had just caught Chance's warning when the first of the two explosions went off. Ducking her head down below the cover she had chosen she called for all of the team to check in. Matt and Drummer reported almost immediately. Deke's rumble was louder than normal, the level of his voice attempting to compensate for the deafness caused by the detonation. Nick didn't report and Margo could hear CJ and Chance both yelling as the second explosion took off the back of the building. A sudden disturbance in the water in front of the boat house made Margo think that they were being attacked, but when she saw flailing arms and heard a voice shouting for help, she realised what it was.

"Deke, get Nick out of the water."

"Roger that."

The splashing increased as Deke waded into and grabbed a sopping and sodden Nick Delvecchio, who ended up standing on the bank looking like a drowned rat, but making enough noise to wake the dead. Deke spoke to him and the noise stopped. Both men headed for cover. Margo continued to try and raise Chance or CJ without success. Suddenly gun fire erupted from the front of the house, hitting the ground just in front of the positions held by Matt and Drummer.

"Deke, see if you can get line of sight on CJ and Chance and give me a sit rep."

"On my way."

Matt's voice came over the comm. Unit. "Margo can you see the tango at the front of the house. We're pinned down here."

"That's a negative Matt. Wait....."

The silence from Margo seemed to stretch on forever.

"Okay, Matt, front window, your right, top floor. Looks like a gun barrel. But I can't be certain."

"Got it."

Drummer started to lay down covering fire while Matt inched his way back from their position. Once he had a good line of sight he fired a grenade into the front of the house. The wooden building just disintegrated. At that moment Drummer broke cover and raced to the veranda. Checking for booby traps he climbed up avoiding the steps. The gunfire had stopped and Drummer beckoned Matt to join him. Matt made it across the open ground without incident. Both the back and the front of the building were now ablaze. Deke's voice interrupted the two men's concentration.

"CJ and Chance are down and out. We're going to need medics here. I don't think its life threatening, but they're both out cold."

Matt radioed the copter and ensured that the Lieutenant and her two engineers would provide back up for the two men down. Deke's voice broke in again.

"Major, I have one tango male exiting the rear of the building. He's making a break for it."

Matt issued orders.

"Nick, stay with CJ and Chance. Margo, rendezvous with Deke and sweep left, Drummer and I will take the right flank. Be careful people."

They moved out. Margo caught a movement out of the corner of her eye where no movement should be. She froze and slowly turned her head. There it was again. Someone or something had failed miserably in moving undetected through the long grass. Informing Matt she wanted to check something out, she moved off in that direction. The reason the person, and Margo was now convinced it was a person, was making such a disturbance was they were moving fast. Margo followed as quickly as she could without herself being noticed. She was being led in the general direction of the helicopter. She wondered if their arrival had been spotted. They had all agreed that they had infilled far enough away for that not to be a problem. Perhaps they had been wrong. She continued the chase.

Matt and Drummer followed Deke. He had given the tango chase from the minute he had broken cover and had kept him in sight all the way. It was Holding, Deke was certain and reported the same to Matt. The three men pushed up and gained ground fast. Holding was limping, injured either in his own bomb blast or from the grenade launched from Matt's M16 assault rifle. He was heading to the water and got there just ahead of the three. He had an airboat hidden and managed to scramble on board before he was confronted by three armed and very determined men.

"Get down," Matt motioned with his rifle.

"Who are you guys?" Holding demanded as though life was suddenly being very unfair to him.

"Friends of Benny Ray's," Deke replied. "Just thought you might like to know he made it and is looking forward to meeting up with you again. He said something about reliving old times." The tall man smiled.

Holding moved fast, dropping the holdall he was carrying and bringing his Glock to bear. Deke went down before Matt and Drummer left his body a bleeding mess in the bottom of the air boat. Drummer ran to Deke while Matt retrieved the holdall and checked the corpse. Drummer stood up as Matt ran to him.

"You know if he wasn't so big he wouldn't make such an easy target."

"How is he?" Matt asked worried. At this rate he wouldn't have many members of his team left.

"He'll live," commented Drummer, unperturbed.

Matt checked for himself and found Deke already stirring and moaning. The bullet had taken him high in the thigh and looked worse than it probably was. Treating the wound with his field kit and applying a tourniquet, the incongruous sight of Matt and Drummer trying to support and half carry someone much taller than either of them slowly made its way back to the clearing. As they arrived they could hear Nick talking to Chance who had just come to. Chance had rolled onto his back and was lying still mentally checking himself. As Deke was lowered gently to the ground, Matt bent down, worry written all over his face.

"It's okay, Major," Chance spoke without opening his eyes. "I think I may have bruised some ribs in the impact, but apart from that and some cuts and bruises, I'm going to be alright."

Chance opened his eyes. Matt stared at him as if by doing that he could confirm that Chance was telling the truth. Chance stared back and Matt nodded imperceptibly.

"CJ?" He asked.

Chance shook his head, "Still out cold."

"Help is on its way. Sit tight."

Now it was Chance's turn to nod.

Matt stood up as Drummer took a look at CJ and Nick fussed over Deke.

"Where's Margo?"

Four pairs of eyes looked at Matt. No one had an answer.

Margo had got close enough to realise that she was following a woman; the woman that Benny Ray had warned her about. She dropped back in case she was spotted, but maintained her pursuit. Matt's voice came over the comm. unit demanding to know where she was. To ensure that her prey wouldn't hear her conversation she dropped back even further. She explained to Matt who told her to be careful and said that he was on his way to back her up. She took up the hunt again and was soon a safe distance behind the woman.

They still maintained a direction that took them generally towards the helicopter and as they made their way forward Margo heard movement ahead of her. The helicopter crew, alerted by Matt of the need for medical assistance had set out on foot. There was no closer landing spot anyway so taking in the Pave Low was not an option. Margo stopped just as her quarry had done and waited for the two engineers and two gunners, who passed by at a trot. Once quiet returned, the woman once again set off, this time at a faster pace. Margo picked up the pace too, she didn't want the woman to have too much of an advantage over her when she got to the helicopter. They were close now and Margo risked getting closer still. The woman turned. She was armed and she was looking for her pursuer. Margo had got too close, her lack of caution making her sloppy. I must be tired, she thought. She rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes and squinted forward. The woman had gone. Margo spun round, but could see nothing. She dropped low and moved suddenly. If the woman knew her position then she had to gain an advantage, give herself an edge. It was too little, too late. Margo was hit by a savage bundle; nails scraped and teeth bit. Her gun flew from her hand and she and the woman went to the ground in a flurry of arms and legs.

Margo extricated herself and rolled away, immediately coming into a crouch. The woman jumped up and advanced. It was easy to see that she had no formal training in hand to hand, but that didn't make her any less dangerous. The two women circled each other. Kara made the first move, throwing herself at Margo scratching and pulling hair. Margo punched out not connecting and was hit hard in the stomach. She went down, the wind knocked out of her. A foot caught her in the ribs and she curled into a ball to protect herself. Another kick caught her on the shin. She rolled quickly away and bounced to her feet. Her cheek was bleeding from deep scratches and she was panting for breath. The woman stood in front of her smiling. Margo looked at her. Benny Ray was right, she was crazy. You could see it in her eyes.

She flew at Margo again. This time it was Margo who had the upper hand, systematically taking advantage of the other woman's lack of experience. Kara went down and tried to scrabble away from Margo. Suddenly she stopped and rolled on to her back.

"Stop!" She cried out. "Stop. I've had enough."

Margo relaxed slightly as the woman continued to talk.

"I've had enough of you hurting me. It's going to stop... Now."

Kara brought up Margo's gun and pointed it at her. In the fight her hand had found the gun and now she was going to get away clean. Okay she didn't have the money, but she was alive and anyway there were always others like Holding. Men who thought they were using her, while she was actually using them. This was only a set back, a minor one and she would soon be out there again having fun and living life.

"Bye, bye bitch."

A shot rang out. Margo flinched, but it was Kara who flopped back on the ground. She screamed in pain and anger. Benny Ray stepped out into the small clearing created by their fight. Margo sobbed with relief and sank to her knees. Benny Ray slowly walked to Kara and looked down at her. She was still alive. She was dying and she knew it.

"You," she whispered. "I should have known."

Her hand grabbed his trousers and blood bubbled over her lips. She smiled at him horribly.

"One last kiss?"

She tried to laugh, but only succeeded in taking her last breath. Her body spasmed once and lay still. Benny Ray bent down and pried her fingers open to release her grip. Turning to Margo he went down on his knees and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Margo?" He enquired, pressing his fingers into her shoulder and pushing her back so he could see her face. "You're bleeding."

"It's nothing."

She steadied herself on his arms and stood, holding on to him for an extra second or two to draw breath.

"Perfect timing, Benny Ray." She smiled radiantly at him.

"Yes Ma'am," he replied.

Together they made their way slowly back to what was left of the house. Benny Ray explained that when the message came through from Matt, he had wanted to come with the flight crew until they pointed out he was in no shape to keep up. Annoyed at not being able to do anything he had decided to make the journey anyway at his own speed. Slipping away from the watchful eye of the Lieutenant in charge had been easy and he had heard the fight as he walked. Benny Ray, his right arm in a sling, was just as accurate with his left hand at that distance and had no hesitation in pulling the trigger on Kara.

Matt found them walking arm in arm and wondered who was supporting who as he took in the scratches on Margo's face and the limp which hadn't been there earlier.

"Taking a stroll?" He asked nonchalantly.

"Enjoying the air," Margo replied light-heartedly.

Benny Ray nodded. "Major. Just been taking out the trash." And he too smiled.

"Well, when you've quite finished the domestic arrangements we've got injured people to attend to."

Their smiles dropped away as they sought clarification from Matt on their team mate's status. He explained that he was only really worried about CJ, who had still been unconscious when he left to follow Margo. They hurried back.

An argument was in full flow when they arrived. Deke, sitting on the floor, was trying to reach Nick who was dancing around just out of his reach. Chance still lay on the ground, but his hands were over his ears and he was shaking his head as if in pain. Drummer looked like he was going to murder Nick as soon as he got his hands on him. Matt stood a few feet away, his hands on his hips and roared.

"What the hell is going on?"

They all stopped dead for a second and then all tried to explain at once. The cacophony was deafening, but had something to do with Nick claiming to have saved Deke's life and how Deke now owed him.

"Shepherd, I warn you if you ever drag me into an operation again with this halfwit I won't be responsible for my actions." Drummer was at the end of his tether.

Matt ignored them and went straight to CJ. He was lying very still. As Matt reached out to check his pulse, his eyes opened and he looked at Matt with pain evident on his face.

"Please tell me I'm dead and gone to hell," he pleaded, "cos if I'm still alive then promise me you'll shoot me now. Or better still, shoot Delvecchio," CJ implored Matt, as he grabbed the front of his tunic.

Matt looked at Margo and Benny Ray and then surveyed the wreckage around him, a still smouldering building and bodies everywhere.

"Don't you just love this job?" A broad smile split his face.

Overhead the sound of the Pave Low started to drown out everything else. The flight crew had signalled her in to winch the injured to safety and hospital.

Matt shouted above the noise. "Let's go home people."

The End.