Eventually, both the brigadier and the PO relented when he briefed them on his proposal. Rather than go to the enemy, his plan was to encourage them, through lack of activity on his and his men’s part, to come to them, believing that the RGC force was impotent and much weaker than Alan had portrayed at their initial meeting. Well, thought Alan as he studied the map, this was the second night, and he felt embarrassment was going to be his companion if the enemy didn’t turn up. All the roads had been blocked off, so the only route vehicles could take was straight down Dyke’s Way. He guessed that they would want the warehouse, with all the supplies they required in one easy hit.
He picked up the radio again, knowing that he was letting his troops know that he was frustrated. Not good, but what the hell, he thought.
“All call signs. Only respond if positive. Any signs of activity. Over.”
Silence.
“Damn!” he uttered to no one in particular.
“If it’s not tonight then it’ll be tomorrow,” encouraged the CSM.
“We can’t keep sitting here like victims waiting. If it’s not tonight, against my better judgement we have to take the fight to them.” Alan slumped in a chair and picked up his mug. Realising it was empty, he slammed it back down onto the table causing Kothari to jump.
Suddenly, the radio crackled. “Charlie-One. Golf-One. Two unidentified, blacked out vehicles just crossed Uniform, heading south along Bravo-three-zero-eight-one to Victor. Over.”
Alan’s hand shot out for the radio, beating Scott to it. “Roger that. All call signs, we have movement. Standby.”
“Golf-One. Packet crossed Victor, on route to Whiskey. Over.”
Roger Golf-One. All call signs, packet moving towards Sierra-Three.” He looked at the map. The vehicles had crossed the two roundabouts opposite Dykes Way and were now headed south along the A371 to the third one, close to where one of his OPs was watching the back door. “Sierra-Three. Target with you in approximately figures five. Acknowledge. Over.”
“Sierra-Three. Roger that.”
Alan saw the CSM’s white teeth gleaming in the darkness and felt the excitement welling up inside as the adrenalin started pumping. Maybe he hadn’t got it wrong after all. Russell’s greed and ego were working for them. It seemed like ages, but was only a matter of minutes before the intruders were next sighted.
“Charlie-One, Sierra-Three. We have target in sight. Looks like five-up in first, four-up in second.”
“Charlie-One. Roger. Keep me posted.”
“One X-ray gone Foxtrot.” Chris Burns’s voice was barely audible.
“Recceing on foot. Looks like they’ve taken the bait.”
“Let’s hope so, Sar’nt Major.”
“They’re opening the gate now. Over,” whispered the OP commander dug into the hedgerow less than 300 metres from the rear of the warehouse.
“Roger.”
“Through the gate. One Foxtrot leading. Vehicles, one Range Rover, one Wrangler Jeep following down track. Over.”
“Roger. Sierra-One. Standby.”
“Sierra-One. Roger.”
Sergeant Thompson stirred his men quietly, and the section prepared themselves to go into action. He checked the magazine on his SA80 was secure and that his assault rifle was loaded and ready. Bennet pulled the stock of his LMG into his shoulder with Laura Marsh alongside him acting as his security. She was a good shot and he was pleased it was she alongside of him. Off to the left, Haynes slid out of his sleeping bag and crawled across the roof, keeping low. His task was to make sure that, while the rest of the section went into action, they weren’t taken by surprise with an attack from behind. Sierra-One was ready.
“Sierra-Three. Targets now stationary. All decamped. Fifty metres south of Sierra-One.”
“Charlie-One, Roger. Sierra-One standby, standby. X-rays approaching your location.”
“Sierra-One, Roger.”
“Charlie-One, Golf-One. Unknown number unidentified vehicles crossing Uniform and Victor.
“Occupants? Over.”
“Wait. Over.”
“Roger.”
“Golf-One. Can’t tell at the moment. Wait. Pulled up on Dykes Way. Possibly five, minimum four. Over.”
Alan looked at his watch: 0320. The black chess pieces were on the move. He just hoped that his white pieces were in the right place to counter them. He gripped the handset.
“Golf-One, Golf-One. Charlie-One. Stay in situ.”
“Roger.”
“All call signs, this is Charlie-One. Estimate kick-off at 0330. Standby, standby.”
“Waiting for their buddies to get ready at the back of the warehouse.”
“Seems so. Have the QRF mount up,” he ordered Scott.
The CSM quickly contacted the quick reaction force, and they confirmed they were ready.
“I’m joining the QRF,” Alan informed the CSM, “so I’ll leave you to oversee the ops room.”
“Keep your head down. I reckon these could be tricky buggers,” responded Scott.
Alan picked up his SA80, checked his magazine was secure, patted his other ammo pouches, and made his way out and down to the main body of the warehouse. He made his way through the lines of racking and jumped into one of the two Land Rovers. He slid into the passenger seat next to Baxter. Ellis was in the back. The second Land Rover contained Lance Corporal Cole, along with Sutton and Lane.
“Anything?”
“Nothing new, sir,” answered Baxter.
“All call signs, this is Charlie-One. Mobile with Quebec, Romeo, Foxtrot. Out.”
“Charlie-One, Sierra-One. Movement west of my location. At least three X-rays are watching the back door. Over,” whispered Sergeant Thompson from the top of the warehouse roof opposite.
Alan responded, talking quietly. “Understood. Hold your fire. Out.”
“Charlie-One, Golf-One. Vehicles on the move. Now see figures six. Moving slowly, coming on to Dyke’s Way. Standby for count of occupants. Over.”
“Charlie-One. Go ahead.”
“Victor-One, four up… Victor-Two, five up, Victor-Three, three up. Last three Victors, four up in each.”
“Sierra-Four. Talk to me. Over.”
“Sierra-Four, nothing yet. Over.”
“Shall I start the engine?” asked Baxter.
“Not yet,” responded his OC. “We don’t want to spook those outside just yet.”
“Sierra-Four. Lead vehicle just coming into view. Orders. Over.”
“Wait. Out to you. Hello, Sierra-Two. Sitrep. Over.”
“Front gate clear, no sign of lead vehicle yet. Over.”
“Understood. Sierra-Four. Act on triggers. Out. Sierra-One. Sitrep. Over.”
“Can see nine Tangoes now. South of warehouse. Not crossed the line yet. They’re clearly waiting for something. Over.”
“Roger. The minute you hear gunfire, they’re likely to move. Once in the open, light them up and open fire. Acknowledge.”
“On sound of gunfire, light up area and make contact.”
“Good luck. Out.”
Alan looked at Baxter. All they could do now was wait.
They wouldn’t have to wait for long.
“Sierra-Four. Lead vehicle crossed Trigger-One.”
“Roger. All call signs. Standby… standby.”