Zero Option

We got a minuteor so's respite. Then Whinger called, 'They're coming through. Six, seven, eight vehicles.'

'Head for the LUP, then. Gimme the bag, Stew. I'll ride with him.'

But could we move? When Stew went into gear and revved up, his wheels just spun in the sand. The weight in the trailer was too great. I leaped out, preparing to walk beside Pat, holding the IV above him. But still the trailer wouldn't shift.

I pushed as hard as I could with my free hand. Tony was on the other side, heaving like he was in a rugger scrum. Whinger was still up top, observing the enemy.

The temptation was to call him down and get him pushing too, but we needed him where he was.

We made maybe fifty yards at a desperately slow speed, before the quad slewed sideways and slid, dropping into a deep, steep-sided hole, with the trailer jack-knifed round against it. The fall had jerked the needle out of Pat's arm, and I was left with it dangling on the end of the tube. At that very instant Whinger called down, 'Watch it, Geordie, they're turning to come in along the new road ahead of us.'

I took an awful decision: we had to ditch Norm, and Pat we must save at all costs.

'Where's yur Semtex?' I asked Tony.

'Some here,' he patted his pouches. 'Most of it's in the trailer. Why?'

'I want you to get rid of Norm's body.'

'Aw, shit!'

'I know. But we've got to do it. Those are our orders. If we keep him with us we'll put everyone at risk.'

By then we were in one hell of a mess. Our only hope of getting the trailer out of the hole was to empty it. But Pat was lying on top of the heap, and before we could get Norm clear we had to shift Pat back on to land, causing him horrendous pain.

I broke out a fresh wound-dressing, wrapped the IV: needle in it and laid the whole kit on top of my AK-47.

Then I went to work. The body was still warm as in life.

Holding it under the arms, I hauled it out and dragged:, it ten yards clear. Tony came with me, carrying his gear.

'What shall I do?' I asked. 'Put him on his side in a fetal position?“ '

'I guess. I've never done this before.'

'How much Semtex have you got?'

'Twelve pounds.

'Put five in his midriff, and we'll wrap him round it.

Tie his hands behind his knees.'

'What about the fuse?'

'Wait till We've got the trailer sorted. Then give us fifteen minutes.'

'OK.'

'Can you manage?'

'I guess so.'

'Sorry, Tony.'

I felt round Norm's neck to make sure he wasn't wearing his ID discs on a chain, then scuttled back to the quad. Stew had already unhitched the empty trailer and pulled it up on to level ground. I broke out a rope and called Whinger down to help pull. With Stew driving and us two heaving, the bike scrabbled its way back on to the flat. All the time I was working, my mind was on Tony and his horrible task.

We were all moving fast and silently, shocked by the realization that Norm, our taciturn but ever-reliable mate, was about to be blown to eternity. We also knew that we were rapidly being surrounded. Still not speak ing, we hitched up again, reloaded Pat and the two spare weapons into the trailer, and tried another start.

This time the quad went forward without anyone pushing, and I knew We'd made the critical difference to the load.

I got the IV needle back into Pat's arm and told him to hold the bag up above his head with the other hand.

'Keep it up as long as you can,' I told him. 'Then have a rest, and up again.'

Turning to Tony I called, 'How are you doing?'

'Finishing now. What about the fuse?'

'Start it going.'

Whinger had scrambled back to his lookout post.

'Lights moving out,' he said. 'Coming across our line of retreat.'

'Shit!' I muttered. 'Let's go.'

We reached the LUP without further incident. Stew had already ripped down the cam-netting, so we folded it over into a makeshift blanket, to give Pat some padding from the bumps and insulation from the air. In the distance behind us the Libyans were still filling the air with lead.

'Booby trap both spare quads,' I told Tony. 'Pile most of the Semtex on them, and put a jerrican of petrol underneath. Quick as you can.'

I put my head close to the casualty's and said, 'Pat?'

'Yeah.'

'You hear me all right?'

'Sure.'

'Listen. We've got to motor. Keep the bag up for as long as you can, OK?'

'Right.'

I turned to Tony and said, 'Pat's pulled back a bit already. I reckon he's stable now. How are you doing?'

'Matter of seconds. I'm giving this one fifteen minutes of det cord.'

'How long till Norm goes?'

He shot a quick glance at his watch. 'Eight minutes.'

'Let's get moving then.'

'OK. It's burning.' Tony stood back for a second, then crossed to his own quad and jumped aboard.

At last we were properly under way, heading due south, myself in the lead. Already the sand was firmer, the going faster. With every minute that passed, the noise of firing faded behind us. I uttered a silent prayer of thanks for the Magellans. With the coordinates of ER.V Six punched in, the needle on my little illuminated dial was giving me our course, and warning me every time I deviated to right or left.

Yet as the seconds ticked away, I felt terrific tension rising inside me. Norm was about to be vaporized. The idea was disgusting, incredible. I thought of the bomb at WarrenPoint which had killed nineteen Paras. Two of them had literally disappeared into thin air; no trace of them was ever found.

Lights! Lights ahead of us and below, maybe three hundred metres from us.

'Everyone stop,' I called. 'Standby to see how far they're going.'

Like the twats they were, the Libyans were driving slowly along the new road with headlights full on. The vehicles were maybe a couple of hundred yards apart, engines and gearboxes grinding in low gear.

'First explosion imminent,' said Tony's voice in my ear — and then, before I had time to agonise any more, it came. A terrific flash split the sky behind us, and a heavy booth! buffeted through the air. Norman was gone. I tried to shut my mind to details about which bit of him might have been blown where; I just hoped there was nothing whatever left. Annihilation.

When I tried to swallow, my throat felt desperately dry, and I was shaking with reaction. Concentrate on the job in hand, I told myself.

I looked at the road and realised something was wrong with the picture I could see.

'Whinger,' I called softly, 'you said you counted eight vehicles through the gate?'

'Correct,' he answered. 'There's only six still mov ing. Two of the bastards have stopped off somewhere.'

'Wait one.' I pulled up my kite-sight and switched it on. Sure enough, I picked up the two delinquents, one a couple of hundred yards to the left of our line of retreat, the other twice that. 'They're putting out a cordon,' I said. 'The next one will stop in a moment…

There he goes.'

A third vehicle came to a halt and doused its lights.

Scanning the ground with the night-sight, I saw that fortune at last was favouring us. From where we were a shallow gully ran down to the new road; rolling down it we would be invisible, and the sides would contain the sound of our engines.

'We'll slip through between them,' I said. 'How long till the next bang, Tony?'

'Four minutes.'

'We'll use that as a diversion. Give us a countdown.

All stations get your eyes shut before the flash. As soon as it goes, we roll. Whinger, stay back to cover the rest of us across. Once we're over, we'll stop and cover you.'

Roger.'

While we waited, I kept scanning with the sight. As I had expected, Gadaffi's fearless warriors preferred to do their soldiering from the safety of their vehicles.

Nobody got out and started to walk about.