Wednesday, June 14th, 2017
Point Charlie
Tyrrhenian Sea
Twenty nautical miles
northwest of Trapani, Sicily
16:16 GMT+2 (14:16 GMT June 14th)
NIGHTSHADE
The large vessel loomed over the horizon as they closed.
"She's big!" Kate commented as they approached.
"She is that, and the flight deck is higher up than normal and mounted over the bow which creates a different set of challenges. She is on a heading crosswind which will allow us to fly into the wind as we cross the flight deck and then drop down. We need to be careful that we don't strike the bridge with the blades as that could ruin everybody's day," Keira briefed.
"Let's try not to do that then," Kate commented dryly.
There were two men standing on the twenty-six-metre diameter helideck to assist with the landing of the giant helicopter. On the bridge, the captain was ensuring that his vessel was cruising at a constant speed, on a constant course, and was riding as steady as possible. Landing a helicopter on a ship was a difficult task when sailing on a millpond, let alone at sea with eight-foot waves and a twelve-knot crosswind. However, Keira had been trained by the best in the world to be among the best helicopter pilots in the world, both on land and at sea.
Keira brought the fourteen-tonne helicopter in from the southwest, aiming for the bow of the vessel. It took a lot of skill as Keira matched the height of the helideck with the headwind, and the course of the ship. While Keira concentrated on the landing, Kate read out the helicopter's speed, height above the waves, and course. Then, as they passed over the threshold of the helideck, Kate kept a wary eye open to port to ensure that the wildly spinning rotor disc came nowhere near the bridge superstructure. Then, as the centre of the helicopter fuselage lined up with the very centre of the helideck grid, Keira pushed down on the collective and the tricycle undercarriage touched down on the helideck. Underneath the helicopter, the harpoon securing system was fired down into the steel grid built into the helipad and then retracted, the system pulling the helicopter down onto the helideck and locking in place.
Keira sighed with relief as she began to shut down the helicopter for the first time after their mammoth flight from England into the Mediterranean.
..._...
Keira and Kate were met by Captain James Hunt.
"Welcome aboard the Calico Quest!"
"Thank you, Captain," Keira replied as she and Kate entered the main superstructure with their kit bags.
"Your cabin is on the oh-six deck," the Captain explained as he led the two pilots below and finally to their cabin. "The evening meal is from six to eight. I'll be eating around seven. Take your time and I am sure you'll want to rest and clean up. You will not be disturbed."
"Thank you, Captain."
Once they were alone, Kate began to pull off her survival equipment and then her survival suit. Keira was doing the same.
"Who gets the bathroom first?" Kate asked.
"You go first," Keira suggested.
Kate stripped to her underwear before she headed into to the bathroom. She stripped off and dived under the glorious-feeling stream of hot water. Kate's muscles were stiff and sore after so long in the helicopter seat. Her skin was sweaty and clammy while her hair felt horrible. After a good twenty minutes of soaping and shampooing, Kate felt like a normal person. She towelled herself off and dried her hair as best she could before she wrapped herself in a towel and left the bathroom.
"Your turn, Keira."
Keira was in the bathroom a second later enjoying the very same sensations in the shower. The long overwater flight had been exhausting and stressful. Keira was incredibly pleased to be out of the helicopter seat and out of the survival suit which was not all that comfortable to wear. It was also good to be still for a moment. Keira was also pleased to be back aboard a ship at sea – the environment she loved. After a good twenty minutes of hot water, she figured that she was water-logged enough and she stepped out of the shower shutting off the stream of soothing hot water. On leaving the bathroom, she discovered that her co-pilot was fast asleep on one of the twin beds in the cabin. The youngster was shattered and had not even slipped under the duvet, instead simply laying on the bed wrapped in a towel.
Keira was not far behind as she laid down on the next bed and before she knew it, she was in dreamland, enjoying the gentle movement of the 9,300-ton vessel as it continued on its way towards Sicily.
18:45 GMT+2 (16:45 GMT June 14th)
CALICO QUEST
Kate awoke first.
The few hours of sleep had done wonders, plus the hot shower. Outside, it was still daylight, but darkness was fast approaching. Kate selected a bra, knickers, and a summer dress from her kit bag and dressed. While she was busy working on her hair with a hairbrush, Keira awoke.
"Hi, Kate. Sleep well?"
"Just what I needed," Kate replied.
"It was a tiring flight. Thanks for your help."
"It was fun," Kate admitted as she finished off her hair. "I'm hungry."
"Name one Predator who isn't!" Keira challenged as she sought out some clothing, selecting a similar dress.
Kate chuckled.
..._...
Once dressed, the two women left the cabin and they made their way up a deck to the saloon.
Both Kate and Keira received a few interested looks from some of the crew as neither looked in the slightest like the sweat-soaked tired pilots who had disembarked from the Merlin helicopter a few hours previously. Captain Hunt followed them in the door.
"Welcome, ladies, let's eat!" he said as he waved them over to a table.
Fifteen minutes later, they were digging into an amazing fish dinner with a glass of white wine each. Keira had nodded her assent, allowing Kate a single drink. The meal was very enjoyable as the three of them chatted about anything except the mission ahead. Keira tried to ignore Kate who was on her second glass of wine and getting a little giggly as they moved onto some remarkably good ice-cream.
"You enjoy some amazing food, Captain," Keira said.
"Oh, yes," Captain Hunt confirmed. "Doesn't do the waistline any good though."
Keira laughed.
"This is amazing!" Kate admitted as she scraped her bowl clean.
"Will you be preparing your helicopter, tomorrow?" Captain Hunt asked.
"Yes," Keira replied. "You have our pallets?"
"Yes," Captain Hunt confirmed. "They will be brought up in the morning. The rest of your team are expected to arrive tomorrow evening."
"We'll have Nightshade ready by then, right Kate?"
"Aye, aye, ma'am!" Kate grinned.
"Enough alcohol for you, young lady!" Keira stated.
Kate giggled.
..._...
After dinner, and before they turned in, the two women headed out onto the helideck.
They walked past the folded and covered NIGHTSHADE towards the bow. Keira loved to stare out to the distant horizon. It was dark, and she loved to watch the stars. Kate was silent for several minutes before the girl suddenly turned to Keira and Kate hugged the older woman. Keira was a little shocked, but she figured that it was the wine guiding Kate's actions.
"Thank you, Keira."
"What for?"
Kate released Keira, looking slightly embarrassed, but emboldened by the alcohol.
"You've given me back my life and provided me with some amazing experiences. The past few months have been amazing. I never thought I would ever fly again, let alone in such an amazing helicopter as Nightshade, let alone the Hawk and the Gazelle. Thanks to you, I also got to fly an Apache. My life has been shit – five years wiped out – but you've helped me regain control of it and given me back my self-respect. I have something to work towards and it is all thanks to you."
Keira was silent for a full minute before she responded.
"You are an amazing young woman, Kate, who has endured some unbelievably bad things, but you kept yourself focused and you have got past all that. I am enormously proud to have you as my co-pilot and I trust you to have my back. You are incredibly special to me, Kate, and I am happy to put my time into helping you with your dreams."
"I want to be like you, Keira. I want to be a helicopter pilot in the Royal Navy."
"I know, honey, and I will help you every step of the way."
"Thanks."
They stood staring at the stars for several more minutes before they turned and headed back into the superstructure and then down to their cabin.
Meanwhile...
19:05 GMT+2 (17:05 GMT June 14th)
Deep in the forests, east of Minsk, Belarus
The concrete building dated back to the previous century, possibly the mid-1970s.
Beyond the basic but solid wooden door, a uniformed guard sat at a table from where he could view a double row of eight fourteen-inch monitor screens, each of which showed a section of the building in which he was sitting. Three of the screens showed a detention area where there were three cells, each of which was open at the front but with a steel wire mesh allowing the prisoners inside to be watched twenty-four-seven. Currently, all three cells were occupied. In the first cell, from the left, a man could be seen curled up in the corner of the room while in the next cell, a woman lay in the centre of the cell on a rudimentary mat. The final cell held a boy and a girl, both of whom were sleeping – or trying to.
The guard looked up, momentarily, to see another uniformed guard enter the detention area and stop at one of the cells.
..._...
The guard inserted a key into the steel mesh door, and he turned the lock, the sound of which startled the two occupants of the cell.
The girl looked up, her face showing traces of fear for a few moments before defiance came to the fore. The guard looked down at the two children without any trace of emotion or concern. He simply reached down and yanked the girl to her feet. The girl was fifteen years old – by only a few weeks – and her long dark brown hair hung in a single doubled-up plait at the back of her head. The girl may have been beautiful, only any signs of beauty were hidden under a layer of days-old dirt, sweat, bruises, and dried blood. The girl wore a form of combat fatigues, the shirt of which was ripped and stained with dried blood. The girl was barefoot, her combat trousers muddy and stained with body effluent. Her feet were almost black with dirt and dried blood. The girl pulled herself up to her full five feet eight inches and she glared at the guard who simply ignored her. The boy came awake and he tried to stand in defence of the girl, but he collapsed to the ground. His condition looked serious and there was a lot of dried blood on the left side of his face amongst the mud. The guard pulled at the girl, and then shoved her out of the cell. The girl's wrists and ankles were shackled, causing the girl to stumble and almost fall to the ground.
"Move!" the guard ordered in heavily accented English as he locked the cell door and pocketed the keys.
The girl followed instructions, biding her time.
..._...
After a short walk down two corridors of cold concrete, the girl found herself at a familiar doorway.
The guard pushed her through the doorway before he took a step to one side and closed the wooden door. The girl stood in the centre of a small room with concrete walls. Despite it being the middle of June and summer, the concrete structure, built in the centre of a forest, was cold. Her bare feet were chilled by the cold concrete, and the past three nights sleeping on a cold concrete floor had not helped her to keep warm. They had been taken, just four days previously. Most of their time in captivity had been spent in their cells, but twice they had been hauled out and interrogated. At least she had, but Timmy had been left alone due to his injuries. She suspected that the boy had a concussion due to the butt of an assault rifle which had struck him when the boy had tried to defend her. She had not seen her parents since the first day, although she had worked out that they were in the cells next to hers.
"Hello, girl with no name," a man said as he rose from behind a simple wooden desk.
The man wore the uniform of a Belarus army lieutenant and he strode towards the girl who stood before him.
"Come now, providing a name won't hurt – I need to know what to call you, don't I?"
Natalie Bourne kept her mouth tightly closed. She had not answered a single question since her capture, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to endure the physical punishment which, to that point, had been relatively benign. Her training gave her the mental fortitude to battle through, but the lack of food due to the starvation diet of slop was eating away at her psychologically, not to mention seeing her brother hurt and not being able to know if her parents were injured, or even alive.
Without warning, the interrogator rammed his fist into the girl's side, sending her crashing to the floor in agony, unable to grasp her side due to the shackles which bound her wrists behind her. Then a boot kicked her hard in the backside, but before the girl could recover from the overwhelming pain, she felt more pain as her hair was grasped and she was yanked to her feet. She was thrown bodily against the wall and she felt the blood seeping from a fresh wound on her forehead. Groggily, she fell to her knees against the wall. She barely felt the hands which grabbed her, nor did she register that she was being stripped of her clothing. Her barely conscious state struggled to comprehend what was happening to her as she felt herself being carried somewhere. Then came the cold as she was thrown into what felt like mud and she felt wetness on her skin.
Then she felt nothing as she passed out.
..._...
Natalie awoke sometime later, shivering violently.
It took her several moments to figure out why she was so cold. Then she noticed that she was naked and that her skin was covered in gloopy mud. Her skin was wet and as she looked around her, she saw that she was outside in a steel cage which was open to the elements. Currently, it was drizzling. As she tried to move, she found that her wrists were still shackled, as were her ankles. She knew that the humiliation and cold were supposed to lower her psychological defences. On top of her aching head, the psychology was actually working rather well. However, on a positive side – if there was one – she was getting a first look at their location which was a first step to figuring out how to escape.
All around her, in the looming twilight, she could make out trees, as far as she could see – which was not all that far. Her cage allowed her to stand and was only about six foot by four foot in size. The door was securely fastened with a chain and a chunky-looking padlock. There were no visible guards, but she figured that they were there . . . somewhere. A short distance away, maybe twenty yards, a concrete building stood in a clearing but was overhung by the trees growing all around it. Facing her, there were two small windows and a steel door. A well-worn pathway led from the steel door to her cage and then beyond into some trees.
Natalie paused in her intelligence gathering as she felt an urge to pee. She looked around her cage and found nothing to assist her in that simple task, so she simply picked a corner and squatted down to pee. It felt disgusting but also refreshing at the same time. Once that chore was over, Natalie sat back down in the mud and wished that she could do something about her rumbling stomach which had not seen more than tasteless slop in days. However, she did not have long to wait before she heard the steel door open and a uniformed soldier headed in her direction.
Natalie sighed and she stood back up.
..._...
Jason Bourne was all but thrown onto the floor as he entered the room.
The man stumbled but he was able to prevent an embarrassing scene by not crashing to the concrete floor. He was dressed in the clothing in which he had been captured – combat fatigues minus boots, socks, and a jacket. Though the man was past forty, he was as fit as a man his age could be and his skills were as sharp as ever. His mind was working overtime attempting to overcome what had befallen his family. Once upon a time, he had been able to focus all of his mind on his missions, but now, he had a family to consider, and they never went anywhere without each other. Therefore, on the current cock and bull mission, they had been captured as one entity. Jason feared for his wife and his children; none had his training, although his children could look after themselves . . . to a point. What scared him was that he had not seen his children, nor his wife since their capture. He had heard voices, but that had been it. He also knew that young Timmy had been injured defending his sister, but Jason had no idea as to the extent of the boy's injuries.
Since his incarceration, he had heard screams, and he was certain that they had been Natalie's screams. He knew that both his children and his wife would be used against him as the bastards tried to worm information out of him. He knew that if they started to torture either his children or his wife, his ability to resist would be severely compromised. Unfortunately for Jason, his worst nightmare was soon to be coming absolutely true and very real.
"Well, well," the interrogator began in Russian accented English. "The family with no name. Are we feeling any more cooperative, maybe?"
Jason glared at the man who sat behind his cheap shitty wooden desk. The man seemed to enjoy his job, much to Jason's dismay. Jason tried to ignore the gruesome tools of the man's trade which were laid out on the desktop – knives, straps, a whip, a Taser.
"Well, I think we might have a way to loosen your tongue, John Doe. Дзяўчынка!"
Jason felt a cold chill run down his spine as he translated the order in his mind. The door behind him was kicked open and Jason heard struggling as someone was shoved into the room.
"Get the fuck off of me, you fucking bastard!"
Jason did not need to turn to know that it was Natalie being brought in. However, he was not prepared for what he saw as his daughter came into view. Her beautiful face was bloody and bruised. Her body was bruised and muddy. She was also completely naked. He knew that Natalie could care less about people seeing her naked – except for her brother, strangely – but it still hurt the man to see her like that. Natalie smiled at her father and she tried to pretend that she was not standing naked in front of him.
"I think I need a bath," she quipped before the soldier behind her punched the girl in the back.
Jason gave the man a nasty look and he memorised the bastard's face for a later time and place. Then he gave his daughter a reassuring grin as he was seized and moved towards the wall behind the desk where his shackled wrists were secured over his head by a steel carabiner on the end of a chain which was firmly embedded in the concrete. Jason was able to see the entire room and he saw his daughter being strung up in the same way except the chain was lowered to secure the shackles and then the girl was hauled up by her wrists so that the balls of her feet were only just supporting her weight on the concrete floor. Jason was then appalled to see which item the interrogator removed from the desktop. Natalie saw it too and the girl began to shake as she locked her eyes onto those of her father. Jason could see the fear in his daughter's eyes as the room echoed to a loud snapping sound as the tip of the small bullwhip cut through the air and then wrapped itself around the unfortunate Natalie's abdomen.
The air was rent by a bloodcurdling scream of agony as a blood-red stripe appeared on Natalie's stomach.
..._...
Timothy Bourne found it exceedingly difficult to open his eyes.
His mind was foggy, his head hurt, his body hurt, his eyelids felt like they were made of lead. The boy dug deep, and he forced his eyes to open. Huh? Where the fuck was he? Oh . . . it began to come back to him. He could remember things going to shit. He could remember the ambush. He could remember trying to protect his sister. Then he remembered the rifle butt coming towards him . . . and that was about it. What had awoken him? He focussed his mind – a none too easy task considering his condition. Then it hit him – it had been Natalie . . . he had caused her to scream on more than one occasion and he knew that scream anywhere. He heard it again, a high-pitched scream like you might hear from an animal being tortured. What the hell was going on? The thirteen-year-old boy dug deep, and he focussed his mind on what had to be done. He had no idea of the situation, but his sister was in pain, a lot of pain, and she needed help.
"You awake, boy?" a voice called out.
"I think so," he hissed, pretending to be still out of it.
"You must get up," he was ordered.
"Can you help me?" Tim asked as he saw bars and beyond them, a man in camouflage fatigues.
Tim's vision finally cleared, and the boy could see two men, both armed with pistols in holsters. One of the men held a bunch of keys and he unlocked the door to the cell before handing his pistol to the other soldier and then hauling the door open. Tim acted faster than he thought possible, but his training meant he operated on automatic pilot. As the soldier pulled the boy to his feet, Tim shoved his pointed fingers into the man's larynx, destroying it. The man had barely begun to choke as Tim yanked a bayonet from the man's belt and he threw the decidedly un-aerodynamic weapon at the other soldier.
By the time both soldiers had sagged to their knees, Tim was out of his cell and scrambling for the fallen bunch of keys.
..._...
Nicky Bourne was struggling almost as much as her young son.
She had received a single, vicious beating which had taken its toll on the woman. Her head hurt and she could only make use of her right eye; her left being caked shut with blood. She felt weak thanks to the starvation diet and minimal water. She knew that the next interrogation would probably be much harsher. Nicky was under no illusions about being used as a form of encouragement for her husband to open up, but she hoped that that was still a while away. She had heard screaming and she had recognised it for what it was – her daughter. Then she heard something much closer – it was Timmy! Oh, God, he was alive! The boy had taken quite a beating during the ambush and she had had no real idea if the boy was even alive.
"You awake, boy?"
"I think so."
"You must get up."
"Can you help me."
Then she had heard movement and choking before a body had hit the ground closely followed by another. Then she heard the clatter of keys and...
"Timmy!"
"Hi, Mom!"
The boy fiddled with the keys for a moment before he found the right one and he unlocked the cell door. Nicky gave the boy a brief hug before she surveyed the cells. One guard lay on his side, a bayonet embedded in his chest, and another lay on the floor of Timmy's cell, the man's hands wrapped around his own throat.
"What have I told you about leaving a mess, Tim?"
Tim grinned as he picked up two pistols, passing one to his mother, he also retrieved four spare magazines, two of which he shoved into his trouser pockets while the other pair ended up in Nicky's trouser pockets. In the corner of the detention block, they found a pile of clothing, including their boots and jackets. Ominously, Tim held up a black sports bra and a pair of black panties. Nicky's expression darkened as she recognised her daughter's clothing. Then she heard the scream again and her mind snapped back to the current moment. Quickly, they pulled on their boots and jackets before Nicky grabbed up everything else and they worked their way through the corridors to where they could hear the screaming.
They stopped one corner away and dropped the two pairs of boots and miscellaneous items of clothing to the floor.
..._...
Natalie had never felt such pain.
The whip caused pain which cut right through her mental defences and straight to her pain centres. She writhed in agony, suspended over the floor. She tried to focus her eyes on those of her father, but it was difficult, and the screaming was painful, so painful. She was scared; scared of the pain, scared of what else they might do to her, scared... CRACK! Her tortured mind was interrupted by another strike from the whip, the sensation of the sting burning into her flesh like it was on fire. She screamed as the pain found its way to every part of her body at once. She wished it would end. She could not take any more. Then, just as she was awaiting the whip slicing into her bare skin again...
Two gunshots echoed around the concrete room and Jason was stunned to see two people standing in the doorway, smoke curling from the muzzles of two Russian GSh-18 pistols, only they were held in the hands of two Americans. Nicky did not stop to gaze about, instead, she raced for her husband, and she grabbed the chair from behind the table so that she could reach his chains. By the time Jason was free, Tim had lowered his sister to the floor, and he was busy releasing the bindings on her wrists.
"Honestly, Natalie, this is not the time for Predator nudity!" Nicky muttered as she threw Natalie's clothing down beside the girl.
Natalie rolled her eyes as she quickly pulled on her clothing, wincing each time a wound was touched.
..._...
Naturally, the gunfire had attracted attention, however, since the shooting of prisoners was not unknown, the soldiers seeking out the reason for the gunfire did not exactly hurry in their task which simply gave Natalie the time she needed to redress herself.
"Come on, girl!" Jason said as he finished tying his boots.
"I'm going as fast as I can, Dad!" Natalie shot back as she adjusted her sports bra and pulled on her T-shirt. "I've got mud in places I don't care to think about right now."
Jason could see the tears his daughter was holding back, and he could see the pain which wracked her young body. The mission had been a longshot at best, but they had needed answers. A Russian oligarch had been supplying mercenaries via a middleman whom they had tracked to Belarus. The middleman was a Belarusian businessman who made a lot of money by simply assisting with purchases and shipping. The mercenaries were being employed by one of Mindy's more unsavoury opponents, and Jason had been tasked by a certain woman at the CIA to track down the source of the mercenaries and hopefully who else had bought mercenary services. Jason had used his skills, along with those of Nicky and his children to ascertain the name of the oligarch and then the name of the Belarusian businessman. Aliaksandr Kozlova his name was, and he was a nasty piece of work with much blood on his hands. He was from the old school when Belarus had been Belorussia, a mere state of what was then the USSR.
"Ready, Dad."
Nicky had picked up the interrogator's pistol while Jason held the AK74 which had once belonged to the soldier. As a group, they slipped out of the room and Natalie began to guide them through the maze of corridors to where she hoped there was a door which led outside – her memory was still a little fogged by the whipping and the abuse. She paused at a junction.
"We go that way, I think," pointing to the left.
"You think?" Nicky growled.
"I'm positive."
"You want us to go down the corridor that has two armed soldiers coming up it?" Jason deadpanned.
Natalie glanced down the corridor.
"Yeah," she confirmed with a grin.
"Let's kill em!" Timmy suggested.
"I knew I liked having you around for something," Natalie responded as she stepped into the passageway in full view of the two soldiers.
However, before either soldier could raise their rifles, Natalie and Timmy had dropped both men with two shots each. Natalie looked up at Jason.
"Is that easier for you, Daddy?"
"Perfect, Nats."
Natalie headed off, with her family close behind.
21:42 GMT+2 (19:42 GMT June 14th)
Still deep in the forests, east of Minsk, Belarus
It took a few minutes more to find the door which led outside, but find it, they did – eventually.
Natalie scowled at the cage where she had been held and she saw her brother wince as he followed her scowl. Nicky could see exactly why her daughter was unhappy and she was truly angry that her daughter had been incarcerated in such a place. She could see the anger on Jason's face, and she knew that he felt responsible for getting both children hurt. Together, they had a chance, she knew. They ran into the woods, searching for a landmark, anything which might tell them where they were. Their only chance of survival was to get to their hotel where they would be safe, at least until they could get a flight out the following day. The weather was miserable in the woods but all four trudged on into the wooded wilderness in search of safety. They were tired and exhausted and all were in pain but they had all been trained to push themselves beyond their limits – even Nicky, although she had learnt 'on the job' so to speak during her first meetings with Jason before they had fallen in love.
As they walked, the trees above them began to thin out which gave them all hope, though it was still drizzling. Then something cruised overhead rather noisily – it was an aircraft, flying low.
"We can't be all that far from an airport!" Natalie remarked excitedly.
"I bloody hope so," Timmy complained. "My legs hurt."
"What about your face?" Natalie asked.
"That too," Timmy admitted.
Minutes later, they found themselves at the edge of the forest and they could see some houses.
"Oh, thank fuck!" Nicky exclaimed. "A fucking car!"
The clapped-out car might have been a Ford Focus when it was younger, but now resembled a rusted hulk. However, with a little rummaging, the 1.4-litre petrol engine rumbled into life.
"That sounds rough," Nicky commented as they all climbed in.
After they had driven a kilometre, Jason grinned at a road sign – they were in a small village called Griva.
23:05 GMT+2 (21:05 GMT June 14th)
National Airport
Minsk, Belarus
Green Park Hotel
The group shuffled into the reception area, the two kids wearing hoodies appropriated from the boot of the Ford Focus to hide their injuries.
Nicky shuffled the pair past reception before the man on duty behind the desk even noticed them. The man smiled at Jason but cringed slightly as he noticed the bruises.
"Car accident," Jason said in Russian.
"We've missed you, Mr Stone," the man responded, again in Russian.
"Small excursion," Jason muttered as he collected their room key.
Fifteen minutes later, Natalie was fussing over Timmy.
"Get off!"
"Timmy, keep still!" Natalie insisted as she gently worked on the boy's face, wiping away the blood and tending to his wounds.
Both were in the shower and absorbing the hot water – there was a lot of mud coming off Natalie who was caked in the stuff and it took a lot of shampoo to get the last of the mud out of her pubes. Jason was gently sorting out his wife's left eye which had loosened enough for her to see while they were in the woods, but which still needed a good clean and the wound sterilised. Naturally, Nicky always travelled with a first aid kit which rivalled the contents of most ambulances. Once everyone was showered, Nicky went over both children ensuring that every graze, cut, and bruise had been tended to. Timmy had seen the whip marks as Natalie had showered and they had filled him with anger.
"I'm fine," Natalie insisted. "I can't say I've had worse, but the strap really hurt when I was younger."
"Girls shouldn't be treated like that," Timmy growled. "I should have been there."
Natalie smiled, ignoring the chauvinistic male bullshit about girls needing protection, but she loved Timmy for it, and she gave the boy a hug.
"Thanks for trying to protect me."
It was the very first time that either Nicky or Jason had seen the pair show even the remotest hint of love towards one another. Normally the pair fought like cat and dog, but deep down they had developed feelings for each other as brother and sister. At least something good had come from the trip to Belarus.
"Oh, I almost forgot," Timmy said loudly as he shoved Natalie to one side.
The boy reached under the duvet on his bed and he pulled out a small black plastic box.
"Where did you get that?" Jason asked as he studied the small external hard disk.
"It was in the interrogator's pocket when I searched him," Timmy replied.
"We need to get the contents of that somewhere safe – we're headed for London in the morning, so we can drop in on our friends," Jason said.
"Cool!" Timmy and Natalie agreed.
Everyone went to bed tired but feeling incredibly pleased.
The following morning...
Thursday, June 15th
CALICO QUEST
07:25 GMT+2 (05:25 GMT June 15th)
Seventeen-year-old Kate Montgomery was the first to awake.
Her banging around in the bathroom as she showered, soon awoke the long-suffering Keira. The pilot rolled onto her back and she glared over at the young girl who appeared out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.
"Morning, Keira!" Kate grinned. "Hope I didn't make too much of a fool of myself, last night."
"You weren't too bad – but that young officer..."
"What!" Kate exclaimed as she almost fell while pulling on her knickers.
"Just joking," Keira laughed.
"Harper was right about you – you're a bitch," Kate scowled.
"You also said some very nice things about me."
"Oh dear, I'm going soft," Kate grinned. "Don't tell Craig."
Keira grinned broadly as she scrambled out of bed and made for the bathroom.
..._...
Two hours later, after a big breakfast, Kate, clad in a lightweight cotton flight suit and flying boots, was inspecting every square inch of NIGHTSHADE, both inside and out.
At that moment, Kate was busy inspecting the port weapons pylon on which a mount bearing four Brimstone I missiles hung at the number three position, located outermost beneath the pylon and a rocket pod loaded with CRV7 rockets hung at the number one position, located innermost and closest to the side of the helicopter beneath the pylon. At position four, right on the very tip of the pylon, a pair of AIM-92 Stinger missiles were mounted on rails, one atop the other, on a vertical mount. Kate ensured that the weapons were securely locked in place and that their control wiring was connected and secure. Underneath the Merlin, Keira was busy examining the cargo hook assembly to ensure that the complex device was fully functional. While underneath the helicopter she would also examine the undercarriage, tyres, and other protrusions beneath the helicopter. It was hot work under the blazing hot Mediterranean sun, but the tasks were essential for that night's operations.
If the crew of the vessel were unhappy or concerned about having a fully armed military helicopter sitting on their helideck, they made not one mention of it. Indeed, the crew were constantly offering the vessel's considerable resources for the pilots' use. The vessel carried an enormous and very well-equipped workshop which was made available should Keira need any spare parts. Every person aboard was loyal to their captain, and their captain was loyal to his daughter, who in turn was loyal to Hit Girl and Fusion of which Vengeance, and therefore Keira and Kate, was a part. It was a complex link, but it worked.
After the external weapons, of which the starboard side was fitted with the same type of pylon and array of weapons, Kate moved into the main cabin and she checked that the starboard forty-millimetre diameter fast rope, fifty feet of which was coiled up on the floor of the main cabin, just aft of the sliding door, was ready for use. The olive drab snake would be crucial for the operation and would be used to extract personnel and reposition them as required. The rope would be hooked onto the winch hook before being pushed out the door when needed. An identical spare rope was available onboard, should it be required.
Next, Kate moved onto checking the internal weapons which included three FN Herstal L20A1 7.62-millimetre machineguns, each with a two-hundred round box of belt-feed rounds mounted but not loaded. The normally fitted FN Herstal M3M .50-calibre heavy machine guns were not suitable for the operation due to the risk of collateral damage as the bullets from the heavier weapon could travel great distances maintaining their lethalness as they penetrated anything they came upon. As well as the machineguns, there were also around a dozen other personal weapons secreted around the fuselage to be used by the crew should they be needed. Those weapons varied from pistols to personal defence weapons, such as the MP7A2, the L22A2, and included a single forty-millimetre grenade launcher.
By that time, Keira was in the cockpit checking out the computers and the electronic systems which were crucial to the smooth operation of the state-of-the-art helicopter.