Free The Operative by Duncan Falconer

wheel.
    ‘Mines,’ Stratton shouted.
    Seaton instantly realised what had happened. He glanced around the immediate area, then back at Stratton.
    Stratton knelt again beside his friend and it was only then that he noticed the little wooden camel on the ground next to Jack. He picked it up and held it as memories of their times together swept through his head. Then, suddenly, he could see Sally’s face as she heard the news. And then he thought of poor Josh.
    Stratton heard his name being called and looked around at Smiv who was standing in the vehicle and shouting as loud as he could.
    ‘Do you want a chopper?’ Smiv repeated.
    Stratton understood what he meant. The chopper could hover feet off the ground while Stratton lifted Jack inside. But there was no need for that now. He would carry his friend back to the hide, retracing his footsteps, and even though there were still dangers in doing that he did not give a damn. He wasn’t about to leave Jack out in this shit-hole for the hours that it would take to clear a route wide enough for a vehicle to get to them.
    He signalled a negative response that relayed the worst. Seaton watched as Stratton crouched down, picked up Jack’s body, and walked away.

4
     
    Sally sat alone in her kitchen at the dining table, wearing a black dress and staring through unfocused eyes at a pile of sympathy cards and letters, most of them from members of Special Forces units around the world.
    She was numb, and unhappier than at any time in her life. Her world had been thrown on its ear and it was only in the last couple of hours, since Jack’s ashes had been poured onto the gently lapping waters of Poole Harbour from a jetty on the Hard, the landing point used by the SBS down the road from their headquarters, that she had begun to think beyond this day. She was surprised by how clearly she could suddenly see the way ahead once she turned her attention to it and how obvious it was what she needed to do. She wondered if the clarity was some kind of illusion but her plan, which was arguably extreme, was in character and she would stick with it unless a better one presented itself.
    The doorbell rang but Sally didn’t move other than to blink her red-rimmed eyes. She didn’t want to speak to anyone else that day. The funeral had been bad enough. It was the small talk that was so frustrating. She’d hated the colonel’s eulogy, going on about how great Jack was. She knew that better than anyone but all it did for her was to prolong the pain. There was nothing more to say as far as she was concerned. Jack was dead, gone from her life for ever and her son was fatherless. Those were the cold facts and althoughshe would miss him terribly nothing would bring him back.
    Josh had been quiet during the ceremony but otherwise normal until he saw Smudge with tears rolling down his face. Then he started to cry and so did she. It was horrible and she couldn’t wait to get home and be alone.
    The doorbell went again. Sally got up and walked to the window but the visitor was out of sight in the small alcove. She wondered how long they would keep pushing the bell before they got the hint and went away. Then, as if he had heard her thoughts, Stratton stepped backwards into view and looked at her. She would never have been so rude as to wave anyone away once they had made eye contact but Stratton was probably the only person she would genuinely welcome inside. He was different and practically family, away all the time, it seemed, but when he was home he always came to visit and always had a gift for Josh who loved him.
    She went into the hall and opened the door. Stratton stood looking at her, wearing a dark suit and looking unusually tidy.
    ‘Why aren’t you at the mess with everyone else?’ she asked, forcing a smile.
    ‘I was on my way … Can I come in? I won’t stay long.’
    Sally stood back to let him in.
    Despite their close relationship he felt awkward as she closed the door behind him. It