Iceline

by Martyn Taylor

Jock looked up as Langhers turned and stared towards the south, where the mountains opened up towards Rannoch and the wreckage still lay alongside the road. He wondered if they would see it and deduce the position of the farmhouse. Jock looked at Kurt. "Do you think this is it?"

  "Can't be sure, I bloody hope so. We'll just have to watch for the next few minutes, then move like the clappers."

  "It's them," Kurt said and rummaged in the back of the Range Rover for a smoke canister, Jock started the Land Rover and had the car in gear and rolling as Langhers clambered into the passenger door. Jock stamped on the accelerator and the Land Rover bounced out of the yard then swung violently to the right and up the track towards the mountains. He had somewhere in mind with enough room to put down a helicopter. Bruce stopped the Land Rover on the edge of the patch and Langhers stepped out, lit the fuse on the canister and tossed it away from the car. Brilliant orange smoke billowed and drifted across the ground, moving away from the patch, but giving a visible indication of wind speed and strength for the pilot. The Jetranger came down close to the mark, less than thirty yards from the Land Rover and slightly upwind of the smoke marker. Jeff Butler kicked open the door and stepped down from the cabin, lugging a medical pack with him. Langhers took care of the introductions as Butler tossed his bundle in the back of the Land Rover and Jock drove them back to the farmyard. Langhers rode in the back, filling him with the details by shouting over the sound of the Rover's engine. They were off the back before the pick-up had stopped and Butler was into the barn and set to work. He unfastened the pack and revealed an extensive medical kit capable of dealing with severe trauma and a radio set. Jock left them to it and Langhers waited inside, keeping out of the way, but close enough to assist. Finally he tidied up the dressings and checked the trio, subdued since capture, their compliance increased as the casualty’s condition worsened. Finally satisfied that he had done all he could Butler beckoned for Langhers to join him outside and collected the radio. Langhers checked the bonds of his captives and followed Butler out. He closed the barn door. "He'll live, but they could all do with a session in the treatment suite at Norton," Butler forestalled Langhers protest, "but I know the situation, that's been taken care of. There's another Jetranger coming up behind us and it should be here soon. The passenger compartment took a while to strip, but it will serve as a flying ambulance. We'll take them back and patch them up, keep an eye on the worst casualty for a couple of days, the other two are going back to the Grange. Jardine wants them as a bargaining counter when the authorities start screaming about the debris littering the countryside."

  "What; might ah be so bold as to ask, is Norton." Jock inquired.

  "Norton Grange. For want of a better description, an out-station, a Scottish department." Brown explained.

  "Which still leaves the problem of transport, for me?" Langhers reminded him.

  Brown smiled and looked at his watch.

  "Be patient." Jeff Butler said, "I'll be back in a minute." He disappeared into the barn, closing the door carefully behind him and good as his word, he was back in less than sixty seconds, "come on, we'll take a walk." He tossed a fresh smoke cartridge in his hand and said to Langhers, “You’ll be coming back with us. Jardine has new transport organised. You are to be flown to the airfield at Machrihanish. Jardine has arranged for a new lightweight to be flown from the Grange.”

  Jock asked. “Erm, what about them?”

  Butler smiled confidently. "Oh, they'll be fine, sleeping like the proverbial babies. They are. Don't worry; our friends are as comfortable as can be expected.”

  "Ah guess," said Jock, "there's a lot of life ah don't know about and ah don't want to either."

  Langhers sighed and cradled the MP5SD, nestling the junction of the magazine and the barrel in the cruck of his left arm and put his other hand in his pocket. "Okay," he said wearily,

  "Look,” Langhers said, “You two go, I think somebody should keep an eye on the three merry lads in there."

  "There's no need, they're going nowhere," Butler replied, "they've had enough to sleep for a day at least; it will take another jab to bring them out of it. That's why I reckon his chances are as good as they can be. But I’ll stay, you go."

  Langhers felt guilty that Sally had been left unguarded while they had gone to meet Jeff Butler. He couldn't let that happen again. He handed the machine pistol to Butler, who sat down on the back step and laid the gun across his lap. He slumped back against the door, dog tired, the strain etching his face. Sally was doing her best, but however well it appeared she was doing on the surface, there were tensions building up inside. Outside the yard, Jock stopped and said, "Ah'm going back to mah Sal, Ah've not been caring for her as ah should."

  Langhers nodded. "OK Jock, I'll take care of things out here, thanks for your help."

  "That's ah'right."

  "Jock, one more thing."

  "Yes Kurt." The Scot stood squarely, "What's that?"

  "We'll be out of your way as soon as possible."

  "Ah know, good luck lad, with whatever you have to do." He nodded a farewell and turned back to the farm. Jeff moved from the step as he returned to the yard and met him halfway. "Kurt's taking care of things out there, ah've come back to make sure Sal's okay."

  Butler gave him a smile. "Good move, it sounds like she's keeping herself busy."

  "How are they?" Jock asked.

  "As well as can be expected, the worst is no worse and the best is not much better," Butler paused, lifting his head, "Jock, is it me, or is the wind freshening?"

  Jock Bruce sniffed the air thoughtfully, Jeff Butler caught a glimpse of the dogs, Jed was laid on his belly, paws extended and head up, one ear cocked, he'd caught something on the wind. "Good or bad?" Jock wondered.

  Langhers shivered as the wind worried around his head, snatching fitfully at his hair, he too watched the sky, turning to take in the whole panorama of the moorland and the mountains beyond. Over the north eastern horizon tendrils of cloud spilled into view and the wind kicked erratically at the tufted grass around him. He broke a piece of grass and flicked into the air, watching it tumble away and didn't like what he saw. Spasms of air rolled across the ground. He turned and walked back to the farm, Jeff met him outside the yard.

  “When are the Sentinels due?”

  “I don’t know, they’re flying up from the Grange and they'll come down out of site of the farm, they’re detailed to watch and only be visible if there is no other choice." Butler seemed confident of their ability to remain invisible, Langhers wasn't so sure, Jock Bruce's knowledge of the land around his home seemed almost supernatural and the dogs were his biggest assets. "They'll not last long before he knows they're around and don't ask me how, he'll just know."

  "You think it would be better to tell him what's happening?" Butler wondered.

  Langhers agreed with that. "It would save a lot of trouble and embarrassment. He might not be so reluctant to discharge both barrels next time. I feel there could be one very pissed off highlander if things don't start returning to something like normal fairly soon."

  "You tell him, I'll see to the casualties and talk to the Grange, there should be some news of the Jetranger, at least."

  "Jeff, tip off the Grange that the weather is changing locally." Langhers said and let himself into the farm after knocking on the door. Sally looked up from where she sat at the table peeling a bowl of potatoes, a pot of stew meat simmered gently on the Aga. "Come in Kurt, sit yourself down."

  "Thanks Sal, is Jock around?"

  "Upstairs, he's having a wash before dinner. Will you and your friend be wanting some and what about the people in the barn?"

  "That's what I want to have a talk about," Langhers told her," thanks but, no, Jeff and I will be on our way soon, hopefully and the people in the barn will be going with us."

  "That's fine; it would have been nice to meet you under better circumstances." She said and Jock came in.

  "Jock, I was just about to tell Sally, Jef
f's on the radio at the moment, trying to establish where we are regarding the transport."

  "Aye, he said the wind might be a bother."

  "It's possible, but we're hoping to be out of your way fairly soon."

  "What are we going to do, if more of them," and he indicated the barn with a wave of his hand, "turn up looking for their friends?"

  "That's been thought about, we have a team moving into the area, they may arrive before we leave, they may not."

  "How many?"

  "Four, they have instructions are to keep an eye on the area, not to watch you."

  Jock sat down at the opposite end of the table and asked. "Why are you telling me this?"

  "I suppose because I don't want you blasting them first and asking questions later." Kurt answered.

  "As if I would, but thank you for the confidence." Jock said and turned as a knock on the door broke into the conversation. Jeff Butler leaned in, "Err, excuse me, Kurt, the Jetranger is ten miles south of here and the lightweight is on a Caribou heading for Machrihanish The Grange is relaying the latest to Steel, telling him to hold until you arrive."

  Langhers rose to his feet, pushing his hand forward towards the Scot. "Once again, thanks Jock, Sally, as you said it would have been better under other circumstances."

  Jock followed him to the door, stepping outside and holding him for a moment. "What's happening with the wreckage?"

  "It'll be sorted, there's probably a wrecking crew on the way to deal with the Robinson first, then they’ll come for the Range Rover.” Langhers told him.

  "And if the police arrive first?"

  "Tell them you saw some activity on the road and then the Rover arrived, all smashed up and the driver fucked off into the mountains with a set of evil looking bastards in hot pursuit, or you could just play dumb."

  "I woke up this morning and there was this Range Rover outside." Jeff suggested.

  "Yeah, why not, stick a blues tune to it, take care of yourself."

  "And you." Jock replied and watched him cross the yard, heading for the barn. Butler was outside the yard, standing with his arms above his head and waving them rhythmically as he faced south. The noise began imperceptibly, but quickly grew to a roaring whine as the turbo-jet helicopter skimmed over the farmhouse and turned neatly beneath its rotors to settle on the turf outside the farmyard. The cabin door slid open and two men dropped to the ground lugging a stretcher. Langhers dragged open the barn door and ushered them inside. As they loaded the stretcher the other two were shepherded in his wake and bundled aboard. Langhers walked up the path to the first Jetranger and took Brown’s seat and locked the door as the pilot took up the collective pitch and twisted the throttle, easing the helicopter back into the sky. He threw a wave to Jock on the ground as they flashed back across his roof and headed for Machrihanish. Langhers settled in his seat and watched the countryside drift past, occasionally turning his gaze towards the sky around them and once, glancing backwards, he thought he saw the silhouette of a Jetranger flying south.

  *****

  Chapter Twenty