Shakespeare on the Roof

by Anthony E Thorogood

  ***

  Twenty: Desert Island Disks

  It was always going to be a hard ask. I had to jump out of a plane above a very small island, float down to the scrubby flat area to the north, land beautifully, fold up my parachute, have a little snack and then go and find the hostage. When my little jaunt was over I was to call for transport which would take us home. Mission impossible probably but that was my mission and, in the end, I had volunteered to do it, more fool me.

  I gave the thumbs up, the door was opened and I jumped. I was hit by a mass of air streaming through and past me, it was cold up there but I was prepared for it. I guided myself with my arms and legs so that I would hopefully land on the flat part of the island. From up there, hundreds of feet above the world, it all looked pretty spectacular, the bright blue sea, the golden beaches, the cliffs, the waves crashing on the rocks, the pine forest and the scrub. A bit different from the entrance I had made with Kashmere when we had arrived by submarine. We had paddled ashore in a canoe, been shot at, had a battle on the beach, got in all kinds of strife, what a way to meet a girl, maybe next time I should try computer dating.

  I glided down, doing a very professional job I must say, and steered my body so that I could pull the rip cord to release my parachute and land exactly where I wanted to. So far so good, it's always a bit of a thrill, the moment before you pull the cord. I pulled it, nothing happened, not quite the result I had expected, still no worries, there's always a spare. I ripped the release, the parachute opened beautifully and floated off into the wild blue yonder. It wasn't attached to anything. That is the first and last time I ever let someone else check my parachutes for me.

  It was time to act quickly. I was picking up speed and falling very fast. I plucked again at my main parachute release catch but nothing, absolutely nothing happened. People tell me I can think on my feet, I wasn't exactly on my feet, but what the hell. I cut away the parachute harness with my commando knife and then cut down the front of my jump suit all the way to the family jewels. Then I grabbed the front of the suit on either side and pulled it out to form wings, just like a sugar gliding possum. My jump suit immediately ballooned out, not exactly a parachute but it was good enough for me. I was now dropping towards the sea which would be no good, if I hit the water it would be like hitting a brick wall, I would disintegrate into little pieces. So by sheer bloody determination, and the help of my jump suit, I aimed for the biggest tree I could see. I relaxed, chill out I told myself, live for the moment, after all a moment might be all I had left. The earth was getting very close, I could see the bay where Kashmere and I had landed, I could see the helicopter landing strip. I prepared myself for the end, I braced for the inevitable splodge and splatter, hoping it would be quick and painless. I hit the canopy of the tree at what felt like 7,000 kilometres an hour. Luckily I had chosen a pine tree, a bloody big pine tree, that had grown into the shape of a pyramid. I started to slide down the natural slope of the tree hanging on wherever I could to slow myself down. I fell through the branches and down towards a Black Shirt who was pointing an AK47 at me. He wasn't quick enough, which was just as well for me, as he broke my fall. We both went down with a tremendous thump.

  'Streuth,' said my assailant.

  'Not you again,' I said.

  'G'day.'

  'I thought you were getting away from this outfit.'

  'Mate, I got nowhere to go, there's no way off.'

  'What's your name?'

  'Bruce.'

  'So do I shoot you or do you shoot me?'

  'Look mate, I know I'm wearing a black shirt but I've never shot anybody yet and I hope I never will.' He tried to stand up but fell over in pain.

  'What's the problem?'

  'Think I broke my ankle when you landed on me.'

  'Just what I need, a one legged Black Shirt with a gun who can't use it.'

  'So what's the go? You must like it here coming back for a second visit.'

  'Not quite, there's a hostage on the island, I'm the liberator.'

  'Well you're probably wasting your time, Pops doesn't take hostages, he usually just shoots them.'

  'Pops is here? Who is he?'

  'He's the top man.'

  'Can you show me where he is?'

  'Do ya a deal.'

  'Anything.'

  'I help you, you help me, I wanna get off this fucking island.'

  'It's a deal.'

  He spat in his right hand, I spat in mine, then we shook hands, dirty habit.