Thanks again to Gav for the beta read. Sadly it would appear that no-one knows anything more about the legend of the Rainbow Snake than I do...so I'm afraid I'm rather 'flying by the seat of my pants' (isn't that what they say?). Please forgive any factual errors, and feel free to correct any glaring ones. Thanks to katewantstobecomeanactor, ironicallynameless, SallyJupiter90 and Rollieo122 for the reviews :):):)
It wasn't until the next day and their departure was imminent that Ryan started to think this might be a really really bad idea.
Lester had arranged a private flight to take them to Australia simply because there were certain pieces of equipment they needed to take that wouldn't be allowed on a passenger aircraft. And if he, Becker and Squid went to Australia to protect the team and ended up with no weapons they would be fairly fucking useless all round.
It was the usual twenty four hour flight out, and they were to be landing at a small private airfield, a couple of hundred miles inland from Darwin. At least, that was the plan. But right now, Ryan was doubtful they were even going to manage to get on the plane without some kind of disaster. There were two Government SUV's waiting for them, but sadly no-one appeared ready to leave. That was, with the exception of him, Hart and Becker. The three of them were standing in a line, each with a small holdall at their feet, and each wearing identical expressions of incredulous disgust.
Inside the ARC's reception, Abby was pacing up and down shouting into her mobile, and Ryan had no real idea exactly what was wrong but knowing Miss Maitland it was probably something to do with her extensive collection of pets. He had overheard Quinn offering to stop by and take care of them for her, but Abby had dismissed him with a withering look, saying she knew someone very good and very trustworthy. Although if she kept using that raised tone, Ryan had a feeling she might have to settle for Danny after all.
Connor was standing by the first of the SUV's, its luggage compartment already three-quarters full of various equipment, and two suitcases. All of which belonged to Connor. At this precise moment Temple was staring forlornly at a third suitcase that had fallen out and split open, as though wondering whether it had fallen from the sky. And from the look of everything that had fallen out, Ryan didn't think he was ever going to get the damn thing closed again.
Squid was nowhere to be seen, effectively dispelling the myth that all military men are supposed to be punctual. However, Becker was insistent that his second-in-command was reliable, and would turn up, although his exact turn of phrase had been 'Squid's damn reliable in comparison to most of the tea-drinking, biscuit-scoffing fuckwits on my team' and having had firsthand experience of Becker's team, Ryan was uncertain exactly how much that stood for.
And as for Cutter, well the Professor was nowhere to be seen. Officially Missing In Action. Still, Stephen was just as insistent as Becker had been that Cutter would appear, even if he was a little late. And just as before Ryan remained completely unconvinced.
Half an hour later, things hadn't changed much. Except now there were four people lined up waiting, four small holdalls, and four expressions of incredulous disgust. Squid had arrived, only fifteen minutes later than required, looking rather stressed out. When Becker had asked him why the bloody hell he wasn't on time, he'd said that his six year old daughter Mollie was showing worrying military tendencies, and had insisted he iron all his socks before he leave. Clearly this little six-year-old had some fairly impressive tricks up her sleeve because she certainly had all six-foot-six of her army corporal father wrapped around her little finger. Although when he'd expressed this opinion, Squid had shoved a rather battered photograph at him, and Ryan could almost see why. Squid's little girl had the largest brown eyes he'd ever seen and they were the exact shade of melted chocolate. Not helping matters was the fact that her hair was curly chestnut brown and she had ludicrously long eyelashes than rivalled Stephen's. And quite the devastating pout as well.
Aside from that, Miss Maitland had now completely vanished, and from the downtrodden look on her face, Ryan thought she had probably gone to grovel to Quinn, and Temple was sitting on his third suitcase, still vainly attempting to zip it closed. There was still no sign of Cutter. Stephen was still loyal, insisting 'He's fashionably late for everything' but if they didn't leave soon then Lester would be out here and then those would become Hart's last words.
He really did hate scientists.
Four hours later, they had finally handed their entire luggage over to the pilot of the plane, with endless instructions from Connor on what went where, and what had to be kept upright, and what was most important, and what was breakable.
On boarding the plane, Becker, Squid and Ryan had exchanged relieved looks. It might not be first class but in the army, when someone uttered the words private plane, it usually meant hunkered down on the floor amongst various boxes of weapons and animal cages in some battered old military craft. At least this plane was free of grenades and animal droppings and actually had seats.
Ryan had presumed that Becker and Squid would sit together, but watching Squid manoeuvre his long limbs into a seat and settle with his back to the window and his feet in the aisle he changed his mind. There were only seven double seats, so everyone else had to pair up, and watching Abby and the Professor settle down, both talking animatedly about ancient reptiles, and Hart and Temple each take a window seat, Ryan did some fast mental calculations. He couldn't sit with Temple; he didn't really have anything against the boy, but if he was required to spend twenty four hours in his company then Connor wouldn't survive. Stephen it was.
Lowering himself into the seat, he shot Stephen a half grin, which the younger man returned, clearly in no doubt as to why Ryan was sitting with him. Across the aisle, Becker shot Ryan a glare, but to Ryan's experienced eye (and nearly two decades of friendship had given him a very experienced eye) the glare was oddly half-hearted.
As the plane finally rumbled into life, and trundled off down the runway, Ryan settled back and closed his eyes. He'd had so little sleep recently, what with one thing and another, that twenty four uninterrupted hours were something just short of blissful. He felt the bump of the wheels that meant the plane had left the floor and felt his back press back into the seat, as the small plane headed upwards for the open skies.
'Are you alright?'
Ryan opened his eyes again, shooting Stephen a look of irritation, before realising that the question hadn't been directed at him. Turning sideways, he saw that Connor had gone a fetching shade of pale green, and was gripping Becker's knee as though it was a lifeline. Ryan couldn't tell if he was sick or just frightened. Becker, the useless prat, was staring fixedly ahead, allowing Connor to grip his leg, and showing no outward signs of realisation at all, apart from the tense set of his shoulders, and the lines at the corners of his eyes, which Ryan had spent years mentally referring to as the 'fuck off I'm stressed' lines.
'Conn? Are you okay, mate?'
Stephen tried again, this time getting a response, as Connor turned and shot him a weak smile.
'Yeah fine, you know me, totally fine. Just get a bit…jumpy at the take-off and the landing. It's nothing, really, I'm fine.'
Yep. Fine and babbling. Ryan stared at the fabulously unmoving Becker in disbelief. Luckily Squid was now aware of the proceedings, and reaching around the corner of the seat, he kicked Becker hard. Becker didn't even flinch, just turned and sent a panicked look to Ryan, who mouthed 'do something, you useless prat' in return.
The set in Becker's shoulders became even more obvious, but he did at least turn sideways to Connor and begin prying his fingers from his knee. Connor uttered a noise that sounded worryingly like a whimper as the plane hit some turbulence, still not quite balanced, and his fingers sunk deeper into Becker's lower thigh.
'Temple, stop, you're giving me bruises.'
Stephen and Ryan exchanged a look. They were both thinking the same thing apparently, 'fuck's sake Becker, you useless sod'.
'S..s..sorry.'
'Look, its fine to be afraid of flying. Everyone's afraid of something. But please let go of me.'
The plane was starting to steady now, moving more smoothly, and some of Connor's colour had returned. He released Becker with suitably apologetic puppy dog eyes.
'What are you afraid of then?'
Ryan grinned. This should be interesting.
'Tea breaks. Now, you okay?'
Tea breaks? Ryan had to strangle a laugh, and next to him Stephen had gone suspiciously still. Squid wasn't subtle at all, he was snorting with laughter.
Connor smiled at Becker. It was a small smile, but still there, and he definitely looked a healthier colour. The plane had reached altitude now, and was flying smoothly in a horizontal line, as opposed to up, and as a result Connor's composure was returning. And unfortunately for Becker, his energy with it.
Then the plane hit another bump, and most of its passengers jumped slightly. Connor yelped, and his fingers reinstated themselves in Becker's upper thigh. Becker yelped as well, sounding like a puppy that had just had its tail trodden on. He yanked Connor's hand away.
'Seriously, Temple, stop.'
Connor still looked vaguely panicky. Becker shot Ryan another 'help me' look. 'Distract him' Ryan mouthed. Next to him Stephen was muttering something else. Becker squinted and then realisation dawned. He raised an eyebrow at Stephen, who nodded innocently. Becker turned back to Connor, who was peering anxiously out of the window.
'So, Connor. Who was your favourite Doctor Who?'
Connor swung to face him, the look on his face one of pure delight.
'You're a Who fan? You?'
Becker's expression became distinctly less friendly. Connor winced.
'I mean, that's…that's brilliant! You know, no-one else on this team appreciates that program properly?'
'Erm…no…'
'My favourite Doctor? Well that's easy, it's got to be Tom Baker hasn't it? I mean the scarf and…'
Ryan stopped listening after that. Connor was well and truly away. Becker's expression was rapidly glazing over, and he obviously didn't have much of a clue what Connor was actually saying. Unfortunately for him, it would appear that Connor only needed the occasional nod or murmur of agreement and he was happy to just babble on.
Ryan turned to look at Stephen, who was watching the scene with a smirk of amusement.
'You did that on purpose didn't you?'
Ryan could hear the laughter bubbling in his own voice. Stephen merely raised an eyebrow.
'Did what on purpose Captain Ryan?'
Ryan laughed out loud this time.
'You clever bastard!'
Stephen grinned at him, unrepentant, and turned away to face the window.
Twenty hours later, they were more than halfway through the journey, and Ryan was sufficiently caught up on sleep. Further back, Cutter and Abby were both dead to the world, and he had spent an amused five minutes pondering the fact that Cutter even managed to snore in a regional accent.
Squid was reading a battered old copy of The Shining, obviously immersed, despite the equally obvious fact it was not the first time he had read it.
Connor and Becker were both asleep as well. Connor slumped sideways against Becker's shoulder, head tucked against Becker's neck. Becker was normally a man who avoided any kind of physical contact while asleep; months of sharing tents with him on missions had taught Ryan that, if he ended up close to Becker, seeking the warmth of another human being, Becker would inevitably instantly roll away. But for some reason, Becker's mostly infallible sleep instincts were ignoring Connor's presence, and Becker was merely leant back against the seat, hair still unruffled, breathing evenly, and allowing Connor to use him as a human pillow.
Settling back against the seat, Ryan checked his watch. According to him, it was just gone six in the evening in Britain, which meant on the other side of the world, dawn should just be about to break. After all, February in Britain meant height of summer in Australia didn't it? So the day should be starting early. And sure enough, on looking out of the window, Ryan could see the dark sky was starting to lighten, the inky black fading to a deep blue, and then, as he sat watching, by-passing blue and becoming a pale washed out grey.
Next to him Stephen shifted, and a glance at the other man showed Ryan brilliant blue eyes, softened and unguarded by sleep, slowly open, fluttering drowsily. Stephen stared at him for a moment, clearly not realising exactly where he was, and Ryan had to swallow hard, but then another one of Cutter's fantastically Scottish snores broke the silence and Stephen blinked once, twice and sat up suddenly, the shutters in his eye clanging back down as reality set it. He gave Ryan a slightly guilty smile, and turned away to face the window.
A glance at Squid showed that he was now asleep, draped back against the window, breathing heavily, in a position that guaranteed one hell of a crick in the neck when he woke up. For some reason, he had marked his place in the book, probably unintentionally, by ramming it between his cheek and the window, and reaching over, Ryan carefully worked it free, flipping the book upside down over his legs.
Settling back down he saw Stephen's questioning glance. He smiled.
'Didn't want the useless sod to wake up with the pages of his book glued to his face by drool, and the words of 'The Shining' imprinted on the side of his nose.'
Stephen snorted with laughter.
'Nice to see you take care of your second-in-command.'
Ryan smiled.
'Squid isn't my team. He's Becker's. My second-in-command is back at the ARC, helping the new Lieutenant run the show.'
Ryan squashed the uncomfortable feeling inside him at the idea of going into the field without his usual team by his side. He was sure Squid was a good man, but he was too used to his back-up being in the form of Alec Lytton and the other six.
Stephen nodded. He looked at Ryan, blue eyes unusually shrewd.
'You wish he was here.'
It wasn't a question. Ryan shrugged, neither wanting to discuss his team's dynamics with Stephen, or think about how the other man had read him so well. The scientists needed to trust the Special Forces soldiers implicitly, and in order for them to do that they had to know nothing about the way they worked.
'I'd feel more comfortable. Becker's a damn good leader, and he'll vouch for Squid, but I've got used to having Lytton and the others as back-up. Longest I've kept the same team of men, this bloody project.'
Stephen's eyes weren't sympathetic, and he didn't reply. Apparently he had picked up on 'don't pity me' vibes Ryan was sending out. This was good, because there was nothing, apart from terrorists, that Ryan hated more than being pitied.
Looking out of the window, Ryan saw the first rays of sunlight start to pierce through the gloomy grey clouds of five am. The sunlight was soft, yellows and peaches and it made the clouds glow. Ryan was not a poetic person, but the sunrise looked so beautiful from up here, that he thought he might have to make an exception.
After a few minutes he became aware that Stephen was watching him again.
'Beautiful isn't it?'
Stephen shrugged.
'Yes. It is. Would be more beautiful if I could watch it from a hill in the Lake District rather than from a plane headed to Australia.'
See, Ryan understood all about phobias, and how they affected some people really badly, but he couldn't quite convince himself that Stephen's apparent fear of snakes was all that was causing his obvious reluctance to be on this trip. Stephen Hart was a professional, and from what Ryan had seen of him so far, if it had been just Ophidiophobia affecting him, Ryan was pretty sure he would have swallowed it and kept going. Something else was going on, but god knows he wasn't going to pry. He settled for ignoring the bitterness and asking a safer question.
'You like the Lake District?'
Not even Stephen's guarded eyes could completely conceal how his face lit up at that. For a second he looked years younger.
'Yeah. Love it. Forget abroad, it's one of the most beautiful places in the world. And it's right on our doorstep. I used to go there camping when I was younger. Biking tours, hiking, water sports, that kind of thing.'
'Biking tours?'
Stephen nodded, eyes alight with enthusiasm. Ryan grinned. Clearly they had a lot more in common that he had previously thought.
Ryan's next awakening was a lot less comfortable. His legs and back ached, he had a crick in his neck, and he was itching to stretch. Next to him Stephen was still asleep. Ryan couldn't stop a smile spreading over his face, and cursed himself for his weakness. After discovering a mutual interest in all physical non-team sports, they had sat for the best part of two hours, watching the sunrise, and talking quietly.
And Ryan had found that Stephen wasn't just a talented, good looking man, he was sharp, intelligent and funny as well, and all off a sudden he was really struggling not to re-examine his decision to take heed of Stephen's 'steer clear' vibes.
Something was really not right with Stephen Hart, and Ryan always avoided the bleeding heart cases like he avoided seeing his poisonous excuse for a mother, but unfortunately there was something about Stephen that made him want to fix him. He genuinely liked the man, and he had a feeling it was going to cause him some trouble.
Hearing a raised voice, Ryan glanced sideways. Squid was once more immersed in his book, and Becker and Connor had rejoined the world of the living. Connor still appeared to be talking enthusiastically about sci-fi, but the scene had changed. Becker was now giving as good as he got, talking with almost the same level of enthusiasm as Temple, and even adding the occasional hand gesture; something which, with the generally unmoving captain, was a huge rarity. What the hell were they talking about?
A couple of minutes eavesdropping confirmed for Ryan that they were still talking about science fiction, but they'd moved on from Doctor Who to the far more appropriate Jurassic Park.
Ryan couldn't resist.
'Having fun Becker?'
Becker jumped slightly, clearly not having realised Ryan was awake, and smiled guiltily. Sadly for him Connor jumped in.
'Hey Ryan, do you know, this man,' this was accompanied with a dramatic wave at Becker, in case Ryan was having trouble keeping up, 'this man, thinks that the sixth Star Wars film was better than the third?!'
'Unbelievable.' Ryan deadpanned, having seen neither film.
'I know!' Connor completely missed the sarcasm, and turned, dragging Becker back into the debate. Before he got re-immersed, Becker shot Ryan a look that was part threatening, part pleading. Ryan beamed back, his eyes wide and completely innocent. Behind Becker, out of his line of view, Squid appeared to be pissing himself with silent laughter.
Captain Becker a sci-fi fan, who'd have thought it?
Half an hour later the plane touched down in Australia. The landing had been even bumpier than the take-off and at one point Ryan and Stephen had shared serious doubts about the pilot. However, Becker and Connor had moved on to debating various novels, none of which Ryan had ever heard of, and Connor didn't even seem to notice the landing, looking around in surprise when they hit the ground with a jolt, as though wondering how he hadn't noticed them falling out of the sky.
Unsurprisingly, Squid was the first one off the plane, unfurling to his full height, and stretching various arms and legs in jerky tandem, accompanied by the sound of several joints popping and sighs of satisfaction. Ryan and Stephen were a close second, with Becker hot on their heels.
Outside, it was dusty and unbelievably hot, the sun beat down on the stone-baked ground, and the only sign of civilisation was a small wooden cabin, built next to the air strip, and a large battered Land Rover.
Ryan watched with some amusement, as seconds after stepping into the heat, Connor rummaged in his backpack and produced a floppy brown sunhat, which he rammed down over his ears. Clearly he was taking Lester's advice.
The pilot stepped from the plane, unloaded their luggage from the hold, and helped them pile it all into the back of the Land Rover. He then handed Cutter the keys to the car. The Professor looked a bit confused.
'Is there no-one to meet us?'
The pilot shrugged and shook his head.
'Couldn't find anyone, mate. It's not a problem though, you just follow that road for a couple a' miles, take the first on the left, and you should come to a small town. Impossible to get lost. The hotel you're staying in is the only one there, and it's about halfway down the high street on the left. Called The Half Pint.'
Connor shrugged.
'Seems simple enough guys!'
Ryan and Cutter exchanged a look. Clearly in both of their experiences things could never be that simple.
Suddenly Abby spoke up.
'Is there only the one car?'
Ryan and Cutter exchanged another look. Cutter held the keys high, announced 'I'm driving' and hurried for the front seat. Becker and Squid exchanged a glance and made a simultaneous dash for the passenger seat, both yelling 'shotgun!' Squid's longer legs got him there before Becker, but as he opened the door, Becker rammed him from the side, knocking him off balance, and enabling the Captain to slide into the passenger seat and slam the door in Squid's indignant face.
Ryan groaned. Him and the other three walked over and contemplated the cramped dusty back seat of the Land Rover. Connor was looking from the small space to Squid and back again. Squid sighed.
'I'll ride with the luggage.'
Swinging himself over the back of the truck, he settled down, wedging himself between a large case of Something Important and one of Connor's suitcases. Whacking the Something Important sideways so he had enough room to stretch, he sent Connor a death glare when the young man yelped in indignation.
With defeated grumbles and sighs, Abby, Stephen and Ryan crammed themselves into the back seat, Abby slotted neatly in the middle.
Cutter started the engine, and pulled away, with the words,
'Should only take about twenty minutes.'
Two and a bit hours later, they finally pulled in to the car park of the hotel. They were all hot, dusty, and extremelyirritated.
When the pilot had said 'take the first road on the left' he had apparently neglected to mention that before the first road there were about thirty odd dusty tracks on the left as well. Connor had been insistent that he had meant the first dusty track, and Stephen equally insistent that he had meant the first real road. Sadly for Stephen, and for the rest of them actually, Cutter had decided to listen to Connor, and they had ended up driving miles out of their way, become completely and utterly lost and had to stop at a handily placed farm for directions. The farmer had looked a bit shocked at the fact that there was a Land Rover with a freakishly tall soldier attached to the back in the middle of what Ryan could only presume was the Outback, but had been extremely helpful nevertheless.
However, despite the helpful farmer, it had been the journey from Hell, and Ryan had never been gladder to arrive at a destination. Now perhaps they could settle down in the quiet privacy of their rooms and spend a couple of hours each in a cold shower.
Ten minutes later, he was starting to think that this trip was doomed. They all stood in reception, luggage heaped at their feet, covered in dust and with identical puppy-dog eyed expressions. They probably resembled a group of mistreated, orphan scientists and soldiers.
Cutter was angrily gesturing at the reception lady, clearly unable to understand exactly how she could have failed to note down their booking, and exactly how she no longer had the requisite rooms. He didn't seem to be getting very far though, because the lady just kept apologising and saying she was sorry, but she no longer had enough rooms for them all. She didn't understand how the booking could have gotten deleted, but there was really nothing she could do.
A look at Becker's face told Ryan that the other Captain was about an inch away from snapping.
Twenty minutes later, Ryan dumped his bag on his bed, and looked across at his new roommate. Becker had turned out to be surprisingly effective when it came to garnering a place to stay.
Clearly the dust and dirt had taken its toll on him, and eventually his temper had frayed. Stalking up to the reception lady, he had leant over until his nose was inches from hers and hissed,
'I do not care whether you have lost our booking, and I do not care that you no longer have seven rooms available. We are hot, we are tired, we are filthy, and we want somewhere to stay. Now, you have four rooms am I correct?'
The hotel lady had nodded tremulously. Becker had smiled, looking like he was about to take a bit out of the end of her nose.
'Then give us the keys, and we will work something out.'
Unsurprisingly, the woman had handed over the keys without a murmur of complaint, merely muttering, 'Have a nice stay, sir' before hurriedly backing away into the office behind.
Which was how Ryan had ended up sharing a room with Stephen Hart. Abby, being the only woman, had received the privilege of a single room, Cutter and Squid were sharing, as were Becker and Connor. This left Ryan with Stephen. A fact which he was trying to mind but didn't.
Stephen hadn't seemed hugely bothered either. He'd only muttered a prayer of thanks it was a twin room and not a double, something which Ryan had heartily agreed with.
They had stomped up the stairs, lugging their bags and dreaming of cold showers and beer. Ryan had swiped the key card through the door of number 312, and then staggered sideways, as Stephen had pushed passed him with a cheeky smile, announcing,
'I get the bed by the window.'
