The Royal Hotel Ross On Wye Gloucestershire
Lat = 51 degrees, 54.8 minutes North
Long = 2 degrees, 35.3 minutes West
The Royal Hotel had been built in 1760 and overlooked the famous Horseshoe bend on the Ross on Wye River; it had retained all that is traditional from the old beams to the two open fireplaces.
Strayker was already sampling some of the traditional draught ales; when Max stepped into the lounge, “Good to see you Max what’s your poison?”
“I’ll have the same as you.”
Strayker handed him a letter, “this has just been confirmed; you may wish to read it”.
Whilst Max seated him-self Strayker went to the bar and ordered Two pints of bitter.
Max opened the letter that was headed up in Ministry of Defense paper.
With immediate effect Captain Max Storm has been promoted to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel. It had been signed by the Commander in chief of the British Army.
Strayker returned and sat down, “Congratulations Lieutenant Colonel Storm, now you have a rank befitting your status within the new unit.”
“But sir I have leap-frogged one rank!”
Outside sitting in a dark green Vauxhall Cavalier were two men, “did you just see who went into the pub,” the one named Clarke remarked.
The other one named Booth replied “yep that’s Max Storm, I heard he disappeared of the radar some months ago.”
“Don’t you think we should report in, he is not part of the deal?”
“Leave it be; Strayker is who we are here for if Storm gets in the way, it’s tough luck.”
“But; Storm I’ve heard he is one tough bastard.”
Booth looked at Clarke; “not getting cold feet are you?”
“No just thought it was going to be easier with one rather than two.”
Back inside the Royal Hotel Max and Strayker were both enjoying a hearty Rump steak meal with all the trimmings the conversation had been mainly about the new units progress and Strayker had been explaining to Max about the new headquarters building in Whitehall Place.
“Has the units accommodation and facilities been completed near to RAF Odiham?” Max asked.
“Everything has been set up, the unit will be based Two miles South west from the camp in a place called Hesters copse well away from prying eyes,” replied Strayker.
RAF Odiham near Hook in Hampshire originally a temporary summer landing ground, opened in 1936 as an Army Co-operation base.
Tactical reconnaissance and fighter roles followed before the base began an affiliation with transport duties; currently Chinook helicopters are based there.
“One final item Max I have designated your code name as Eagle three; mine will be eagle two there will be no numeral one, each of the units leaders will also have an eagle code name.”
Strayker looked at his watch 21:10hrs he finished his coffee, “time to make a move Max.”
“Not stopping over sir.”
“Not this time Max; must be back in London for a meeting with the PM tomorrow.”
“Your driver in the bar sir?”
“No; drove up myself.”
“Sir If you do not mind I will follow you, we can take it in turns driving point.”
“I’m up for that Max I’ll just pay a visit to the toilet and will meet you outside.”
Max entered the car park that was now lit up from the outside lighting, he observed a dark blue 3.6 litre Jaguar Sovereign, Strayker appeared to his right, “just had it delivered yesterday.”
“Know I can see why you drove up yourself.”
“I’ll take point first Max.”
They both walked to their motors, Strayker was first to move off, as Max unlocked and opened his door he noticed a Green coloured car on the far side of the car park with two occupants inside, just then a horn sounded Max looked around to see a car waiting to park in the bay alongside him.
He jumped in and gunned up the 4.2 litre engine engaged first and rolled towards the exit just in front of the Green Vauxhall he noticed that it contained two male occupants.
He could see Strayker about a quarter of a mile down the road to his right, he cleared the exit just before an articulated truck arrived to his left, “not getting stuck behind you mate,” he muttered.
Strayker was now out of sight however, he did not mind the A40 was coming up in a couple of miles and he would pick him up there.
Just then he picked up the flashing headlights in his rear view mirror behind him on the Artic, for a moment he wondered what was going on; then he caught sight of the Green Vauxhall in his driver’s door mirror overtaking the artic and bearing down on him.
Ahead was an approaching car, “get back in you crazy bastard,” Max shouted, as if the driver of the Green Vauxhall could hear him.
The oncoming car was now braking and the Green Vauxhall
was still powering on just to the rear offside of Max.
Max hit the brake hard looked in his mirror and could see the Arctic’s trailer snaking as it too braked heavily.
The Green Vauxhall powered past Max and returned to the left side of the road avoiding the collision with the on coming vehicle and disappeared up the road ahead.
Max and the other two drivers got out of their vehicles the truck driver shouted, “bloody drunken drivers.”
“You could be right there, they just pulled off the pub a mile back,” Max replied.
Max jumped back in his motor and gunned the engine down the road, “some time to make up he thought.”
Strayker had entered the A40 a single two-lane carriageway with a National speed limit the road was deserted; he looked in his mirrors “Where are you Max?”
A moment later, he observed a dark coloured motor gaining on him, he looked at his Speedo 60 mph, “you’re going some son,” he muttered, at that moment the rear window of his Jaguar imploded swiftly followed by a hail of bullets.
The Vauxhall was now yards behind Strayker with the gunman leaning out the nearside passenger window.
Strayker dropped the car down to second gear and quickly turned the steering wheel to the right; the Jaguar entered a controlled skid and entered the opposite lane turning 180 degrees around into a perfect bootleg turn.
The Jaguar came to a complete stop facing the opposite direction as the Vauxhall hurtled past.
Strayker engaged first gear and hammered the gas pedal to the floor; the Jaguars 3.6 litre engine never missed a beat and lived up to its reputation as Strayker was pinned back in his seat.
The Vauxhall had turned around pursuing Strayker just as Max came on the scene, he noticed Strayker’s car heading towards him and muzzle flashes from the Vauxhall, and he quickly weighed the situation up and placed his vehicle weighing two and a half turns onto the centre of the road straddling the centre white line.
“What’s that crazy bastard trying to do,” Clark yelled.
“Turn towards him so I can get a shot at him,” Booth replied.
“No fucking way; if you want to play chicken you drive.”
Just before the inevitable collision Clark yanked the Steering wheel to his left throwing the Vauxhall into a side road with Booth hanging on for dear life having dropped his weapon on the road, the Vauxhall disappeared down the lane at a rate of knots and had disappeared when Max had returned to the junction.
Max picked up the attackers weapon on the road taking care not to smudge any potential fingerprints.
At that moment Strayker arrived and walked over to Max, “Sir; you did pay for the bill back at the pub?”
Strayker let himself smile at Max’s dry humour.
“Are you carrying Max?”
“In the boot sir.”
They walked over to Range Rover and Max opened the rear tailgate, in a holdall bag were an assault rifle and two handguns, “take your choice sir.’”
Strayker took a handgun with a couple of magazines, ‘Just in case those bastards come back.’ He remarked.
Just then the truck driver pulled up “everything okay chaps?”
Max looked up and replied, “yes just a little problem with the Motor.”
“Have a safe journey now,” with that, the truck driver resumed his journey.
Max spoke, “Suspects Sir.”
“Possible IRA influences Max.”
“I don’t know sir; I was the one with the military plates on the car I should have been the target not you.”
“Good point Max; there may be something more in this than is obvious, let’s get back to London Max.”
“Okay sir, I’ll stick with you like a magnet,” replied Max.