Mercenary

by Duncan Falconer

  ‘Would you show our guest around? Give him a horse.’

  Louisa did not look overjoyed at the prospect. If Sebastian noticed her lack of enthusiasm, he gave no sign and faced Stratton, looking him in the eye. ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ he said with true sincerity.

  Stratton watched him head down the path towards the log cabins. The man was without doubt a member of a rare breed. Some people were born with an exceptional aura and Sebastian was one of them. He had begun and was now holding together a national rebellion by sheer force of will.

  Louisa was looking at Stratton as if she’d won a booby prize.

  ‘I take it you don’t fancy being a tour guide today,’ he said.

  ‘You’re very intuitive.’

  ‘I’ve had enough compliments for one day, thanks.’

  She gave him an insincere smile.

  ‘Maybe some other time,’ he said, turning away.

  Louisa would have been happy to let him go but she was mindful of her father’s request. ‘Wait.’

  Stratton did not respond.

  ‘Can I say something?’ she asked.

  He slowed to a halt and looked around at her tiredly.

  ‘You’re my father’s guest. If he wants you to be shown around I will oblige him.’

  ‘Hey. Don’t put yourself out on my account.’ He continued down the slope.

  ‘Look . . .’ Louisa began. But Stratton was marching off at a stubborn pace. She gritted her teeth, turned away from him and stormed back to the stables.

  Stratton worked on suppressing his annoyance. He could usually tolerate disrespect, choosing the diplomatic thick-skinned option that would prevent conflict and let him get on with the job. But every now and then bad manners and insults got to him. Louisa had managed to needle him more easily than another person might have and the reason for that was obvious enough. His ego had been chipped. She was beautiful and he wanted to be attractive to her but she saw him only as a lowlife.

  Stratton decided that the best course of action was to avoid the woman altogether. She was only going to wind him up whenever they met. Staying out of her way for the next few hours should not be difficult.

  He tried to focus his thoughts on the upcoming weapons training but Louisa had well and truly got under his skin. There was something about her that he could not shake. Stratton had avoided meaningful relationships with the opposite sex for years. It had been a rule of his, and her attitude should have made it easy to sustain. Having a love interest in his line of work was pointless. In his early days in the SBS he had had a girlfriend and there had been some great times but the difficulties and eventual heartbreak had not been worth it. The strains of maintaining a relationship when both parties were often apart for long periods only really became clear after he’d tried it. Sure, he was looking forward to getting home - but only because he didn’t want to be here. If he was offered another job by the time he got to Panama he would take it. And he wouldn’t have to make a difficult phone call to explain, in effect asking for permission not to come home until God only knew when. His pride might have taken a knock but he had to get on with the job in hand.

  The sound of hooves thundered behind him and he turned to see Louisa charging his way on her horse with another one alongside her. She passed him in order to turn the snorting animals and bring them to a halt across his path.

  She steadied the beasts, taking a moment to compose herself. ‘I was rude,’ she said. ‘It was unnecessary.’

  Stratton knew he should have simply insisted that she forget the tour since he was leaving in a few hours but he couldn’t bring himself to.

  ‘After last night you had every reason to leave,’ Louisa continued. ‘You did not, which . . . it’s to your credit. My father wants you to stay and train the men. It was wrong of me to act the way I did.’

  She had said her piece but without actually apologising. Stratton decided to hold out for it.

  It was as if she had read his mind. She turned away so that he could not see her rolling her eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

  ‘I couldn’t hear that,’ Stratton said. ‘What was that last thing you said?’

  Louisa clenched her jaw and flashed her eyes at him. ‘I’m sorry,’ she repeated, tersely.

  He decided it was the best he was going to get and smiled victoriously at her.

  ‘Can you ride?’ she asked coldly. ‘This one’s a little feisty but she has a good spirit,’ she said, holding out the reins to him.

  Stratton had been on horseback a few times in his life but he would not have described himself as a confident rider. He didn’t think in any case that a tour of the camp was essential. But he found that he was suddenly enjoying Louisa’s company in a weird kind of way.

  ‘I’m assuming you can sit in a saddle - but then, you don’t look the type to have been in the cavalry,’ Louisa said, clearly baiting him.

  Stratton slung the M4 across his back, took the reins, held them fast on the saddle’s horn while he placed his boot into the stirrup and pulled himself up. He made the move successfully but sitting on a saddle felt alien immediately.

  Louisa did not wait for him to settle in and she headed across the field at a trot. Before he could do anything his horse set off after her. Stratton was not in control of the animal but if it was happy to follow hers then he supposed that was good enough.

  ‘What were you talking about with my father?’ she asked as he came alongside her.

  ‘We were talking about instincts. He’s a perceptive man. I suppose that sort of thing can skip a generation.’

  ‘Oh? I also figured you were vulnerable to flattery,’ she said. ‘Starved of it, more like,’ she muttered, but loudly enough for him to hear.

  Stratton wasn’t used to verbal jousting with a woman and immediately felt vulnerable. He decided to back off.

  ‘Did he ask you about your family history?’ Louisa asked.

  Stratton grew cautious, aware that she was not done with him yet. ‘No.’

  ‘Your boss, Steel? He told Sebastian that his father fought with the Lincoln Brigade during the Spanish Civil War. It’s the sort of thing my father would respond to. I think Steel’s a liar. Don’t suppose your grand father was in the Spanish Civil War, by any chance?’

  ‘No, but I’m told my grandmother wore puttees and wanted to join the Gurkhas.’

  Louisa looked at Stratton as if he were strange. He remained poker-faced. ‘I’m glad you have a sense of humour,’ she said as she spurred her horse into a canter. His animal followed automatically.

  The ground sloped steeply away before them, providing a breathtaking view that stretched for miles. The jungle unfolded into the distance like a series of huge overlapping waves. Louisa’s horse eased into a spirited gallop down a slope covered in knee-length buffalo grass. Stratton’s beast responded in kind and they quickly reached a speed that was a new experience for him on horseback. He focused all his efforts on staying on the animal’s back. His only thought was that if the horse tripped they would both probably die.

  Stratton leaned forward and gritted his teeth, remembering an old adage: the only way to deal with speed was to want to go faster.

  Louisa’s ponytail came loose and her hair flowed behind her. She gradually became lost in the rush as she pushed her animal to the maximum.

  The ground seemed to disappear a few hundred metres ahead, the jungle becoming visible again only in the far distance. Louisa eased her horse’s head to one side and they leaned into a wide turn. Stratton’s horse did the same. He was far from being at ease but a part of him was revelling in the experience. The power of the animal thundering beneath him was extraordinary. It conjured feelings of ancient warriors and what it must have been like to charge into battle on horseback.

  Several rebels crossing the high ground stopped to watch the pair tearing across the landscape below them. David was among them and he called out to Victor, who came over to see what was going on.

  Stratt
on expected, or at least hoped, that Louisa would slow down as they arrived at the edge of the dead ground but she suddenly turned her beast sharply to run along it. Stratton’s horse made the same adjustment, which he was very soon most thankful for, his heart skipping a beat when he realised why the animal had swerved. The dead ground was in fact the edge of a cliff. But it was not the last surprise that the young woman had in store for him.

  Any enjoyment he had previously managed to get from the ride was replaced by fear as they galloped along the top of the precipice, barely metres from its edge. Louisa did not let up and seemed to be moving ever closer to the void as if trying to see how near to it she could ride. Stratton’s horse followed directly behind hers as if unable to think for itself.

  The ground had levelled out, the cliff curving outwards in a gentle arc towards the jungle in the distance. An odd clump of bushes suddenly appeared up ahead a couple of metres from the cliff which Louisa passed on the cliff side. Stratton’s horse followed, cutting so close that the foliage clipped his foot. A quick glance revealed that his horse’s hooves were inches from the edge. Stratton tugged the opposite rein in an effort to turn the animal away but it had no effect. Yet another odd clump appeared up ahead, this time even closer to the cliff. To Stratton’s relief Louisa passed it on the outside. At least there was a limit to her risk-taking.

  The good news was that they were closing on the point where the jungle met the cliff and the daredevil ride would have to head inland at least.

  Victor watched from the hilltop with growing interest, well aware of an obstacle ahead that was not yet visible to Stratton. He wondered what Louisa was planning. She didn’t appear to be slowing down and he shook his head, hoping Stratton had some equestrian experience.

  A small fold in the ground up ahead disguised a narrow slice into the cliff, a chine that reached inland a dozen or so metres. The first time Louisa had seen it was when she’d been riding at a gentle trot and she had stopped in front of it. After an inspection from both sides of the cut, paying particular attention to the soundness of the edges, she had trotted back the way she had come, turned her horse around and broken into a fearsome gallop. That first time she’d made the jump she’d chosen the middle where the chine was a couple of metres wide. The following day she had returned for another go, this time leaping its widest point close to the edge for an added rush. It was not the longest jump she had ever made but with the added degree of difficulty, namely the abyss below, it was one of the more exhilarating.

  Louisa spared only a moment to consider the dangers to Stratton, knowing that his horse would follow hers. She had time to avoid the chine and for a second she was undecided. But the devil in her forbade her to show any sympathy for the mercenary. She reckoned his type were fond of regaling their chums with exaggerated accounts of their adventures. Well, he could add this one to his repertoire. She did not mean him harm, not physically anyway. It was an opportunity to scare him and hence too good to miss. His horse was a sturdy beast that had made the jump many times. And though Stratton had no riding form to speak of he did have something of a natural seat. If he lost his nerve he might try to pull up or turn aside, though. That could be a problem.

  The chine came into view through the taller grass and Louisa rose up in the saddle to take some weight off her horse’s neck. With perfect timing the animal made the leap. The thunderous sound of his hooves ceased as he took to the air. They struck the ground and the thunder returned. Louisa eased back on the reins as she turned to look behind her. When she saw Stratton she suddenly grew concerned that she had gone too far.

  Stratton had not yet seen the chine but he had not missed seeing Louisa’s horse take to the air. By the time he spotted the jagged cut in the cliff it was too late to do anything, even if he could have. His horse was the master of the moment. All he could do was hold on tight.

  Time seemed to slow for him at that point. The sound of his horse’s hooves grew muffled as every metre of ground ahead came into sharp focus. The horse jolted as it prepared to jump. Stratton loosened the reins to allow the animal the freedom to do what it needed. As the gap approached Stratton’s feeling of tension soared. The horse brought up its front legs and Stratton’s head went down alongside the animal’s neck.

  As they jumped Stratton found himself looking down into the void. He was aware only of a vast emptiness below.

  The horse landed hard and threw Stratton further forward. He almost lost his seat but regained it as the horse’s rear quarters dropped, its legs sliding beneath it, its hocks hitting the ground. Stratton grabbed its withers instinctively but could not keep his grip. Indeed, his instincts warned him not to. He slid off the horse’s side as the beast bounced back to its feet and he struck the ground hard, rolling a couple of times before coming to a stop.

  The animal trotted off, shaking its head and snorting irritably. For a moment Stratton lay where he had landed, wondering if he had sustained any damage. He sat up slowly and removed his carbine from where it was slung on his back. Earth filled its muzzle where it had dug into the ground and he gritted his teeth irritably as he knocked the soil out.

  Louisa walked her horse up to him. ‘You okay?’ she asked. ‘You did well.’

  He looked up at her as he got to his feet, scowling angrily. But she just laughed at him.

  ‘You think that was funny?’

  ‘Yes, I do, actually.’

  Stratton felt the anger beginning to well up inside him. His treasured composure was cracking. He did not like to be laughed at. ‘You stupid prat.’

  Louisa stopped laughing but kept a broad grin on her face. ‘Temper, temper.’

  ‘I suggest you take a closer look around you and appreciate where you are.You’re a long way from your high-class college, playing your silly girly games.’

  She tried to hold her smile but Stratton’s words stung. ‘You’re not just angry about falling off your horse?’

  ‘No, I’m not. I don’t appreciate being mocked by an immature princess like you. You’re in the real world here - one of the darker parts of it, at that - where actions and words can have serious consequences. Do yourself a favour and grow up.’

  ‘You think I don’t know where I am?’ Louisa retorted, her own anger surfacing. She jumped off her horse, stormed over to a heap of brush like the ones along the edge of the cliff that they had dodged around and pulled a section away to reveal a large wooden crate. She removed the heavy lid with some difficulty to uncover a huge coil of knotted climbing rope.

  ‘This cliff acts as a boundary for almost half the camp,’ she said. ‘We can only be attacked from one direction. But if we had to escape, the cliff would make it difficult for us.This rope reaches to the bottom. There are over a dozen of them.’

  ‘Whose idea was that?’

  ‘Mine,’ she said, looking smug.

  ‘You plan to get a couple of thousand people down a dozen ropes during a gun battle?’ Stratton asked as he stepped over to the chine to look down.

  ‘It’s only intended as a last-ditch escape route.’

  ‘Six hundred feet?’

  ‘At least some of us could get away.’

  ‘In the rain, at night? What about the women and children? The elderly? The wounded? And you think the men will leave without their families?’

  The confident expression left Louisa’s face.

  ‘You set a camp with its back to a cliff you’d better plan to stand and fight,’ Stratton said, walking away. ‘Stick to ironing your father’s shirts.’

  Louisa clenched her jaw, wanting to protest against his last comment, but for once she didn’t know what to say.

  She climbed back onto her horse, took hold of the reins of the other one and trotted them up the hill the way they had come.

  Near the top she saw Victor watching her and steered towards him. ‘You angry with me too?’ she asked as she halted her horse.

  ‘You could at least wait until after he has instructed the men before you try to kill him.
Just because you don’t approve of him doesn’t mean you can act like that,’ Victor added.

  ‘Okay,’ Louisa said, as if she’d had enough preaching for one day. ‘But today he helps us, tomorrow he helps Neravista. That’s the problem I have with him.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘Victor, you are as bad at judging people’s characters as my father is. Look at the man. Look at what he does.’

  ‘Before he came here perhaps he would have done the same for Neravista. But I don’t think he would now.’

  ‘He’s won your trust easily.’

  ‘Does my opinion no longer count with you?’

  ‘You know that’s not true.’ Louisa sighed heavily, wanting to change the subject. ‘I’m worried, Victor.’

  ‘You mean about last night?’

  ‘Is Sebastian going to lose control?’

  Victor did not have an answer for that question. ‘It’s going to be different from now on, I think.’

  ‘What do you think will happen?’

  ‘I think you should leave. Go back to America or Europe.’

  Louisa rejected that advice with a dismissive gesture. ‘If my mother had not died this rebellion might never have begun when it did. Did you know that?’

  ‘Your mother died long before the uprising.’

  ‘It took Sebastian several years to make his plans. He didn’t begin making them until after she died. She gave him her blessing on her deathbed. She fought against it while she was alive but she knew that was all he would live for once she was gone and so she made it easier for him. He would have succeeded had she been alive.’

  ‘You talk like it’s already over.’

  ‘I’m afraid for him.’

  ‘You think you can take the place of your mother?’

  ‘Is that so ridiculous?’

  Victor did not know how to answer.

  ‘I can’t leave him, whatever happens. Tell me, why do you stay?’

  Victor thought for a moment. ‘I believe in destiny, that I was put on this earth for a purpose. It wasn’t until I came here that I knew what that was. You see, I have always believed that the world was headed inexorably towards peace and contentment for all, no matter what evil existed. I never expected that it would be achieved in my lifetime but that didn’t matter. Anything I did to help would not be in vain. Others not yet born would take my place to continue the struggle. But one day I realised there was a flaw in that belief. If it was inevitable, then I was not essential to it. The world doesn’t need me.’