I stood on the veranda and looked down towards the gate and listened to the last calls of the birds before they settled for the night. It had been another crazy day ... not so many kilometres travelled but so much done in so few hours.
There were clothes, underwear, hiking boots, and backpacks to buy. There was food too but how many days should they buy for? Would the enemy come tonight, tomorrow, the next night? All I knew for certain was that we were ready for them ... or as ready as we could ever be.
The road that wound its way around Mount Conbola and ended at a large picnic area and reservoir that supplied drinking water to the town passed the property's front gate. Apple orchards lined either side of the road for most of the way but eventually orchards on the western side of the road stopped and was replaced with dense bush that was almost impenetrable.
The orchard that we were 'hiding' on belonged to Dale's family although none of the family lived in the house. They all lived down in town and travelled up each day to work in the orchard
The house was a low 3-bedroom brick house with a veranda across the front that faced down the hill and access was through a gate 300 metres from the house. A winding dirt track led up from the gate to the house and the entire track was in clear view from the veranda.
While there was a small area for parking in front of the house the track didn't stop there but looped around to the back of the house to a number of sheds that included a large open machinery shed and several large water tanks. A large slice of land had been excavated into the hillside so that the sheds were on the same level as the house but the water tanks sat above the excavated area.
Beyond the excavated area the hill continued but was littered with large rocks and boulders that formed an almost impenetrable barrier for anyone trying to approach the house from the rear.
About 400 metres directly down the hill from the house was a row of native trees about 200 metres deep and around 600 metres long and to the right of that was the apple orchard with trees planted in neat rows that ran down the hill and out of sight. To the right of the house was an open area that had some old farm equipment in it and beyond those it turned into more rough ground
Most of one of the SAS sections were hidden in the trees down the hill with the remainder of that section hidden in the thick bush across the road from the house. The group in the trees down the hil also had three experienced Reserve NCOs manning a light machine gun. Most of the second unit was hidden in the rough ground to the right of the house while the remaining three were in the rough area above and behind the house.
Part of the Reserve platoon was manning an observation post at the bottom of Mount Conbola Road while the remainder were held in reserve in some sheds on the last orchard on the western side of the road.
There was no doubt that we were stretched paper thin on the ground but we had several advantages of those who would be coming. We knew they were coming, our troops were battle-hardened veterans from one of the toughest units in the Australian Army and our guys were under some cover while the bad guys would be out in the open.
If somethings went right the outcome would be exactly what we wanted ... but so many things could go horribly wrong.
When the firing started Angela and I were to evacuate through the back of the farmhouse and use the machinery shed as cover to slip into the rocky area behind the house. If we hugged the machinery shed we would still be able to give the guys in the area above and behind the house a clear field of fire.
We also had the added protection of an F88 Austeyr and a Glock pistol but I seriously hoped that the bad guys wouldn't get that close to us that I had to use them.
I heard the door quietly open and close and then Angela was standing beside me with her arm around my waist. "We seem so isolated and alone here," she whispered.
"I know, but the SAS guys are out there. You can't see them from here, and you could walk right up to them and still not see them, but they're there and they'll stay there till the job's done."
"But what if this goes on for weeks?"
"They're trained to stay in position for very long periods of time and still be ready to come out fighting when the shit hits the fan but this isn't going to go on for weeks. 72 hours will see this all done and dusted."
"Why don't you get on with Nick?"
Her question caught me completely off-guard. My mind had been involved in tactical problems and suddenly her question brought it back to a world of pain. "Actually I get on very well with Nick ... Nick just doesn't get on at all with me."
"What happened?"
That was a question that I had been asking myself ever since my marriage imploded. "Would you believe it, I don't really know. I thought we were OK, we talked regularly, he would ask me for advice sometimes and then all two-way communication stopped dead a week after my ex walked out.
"I've tried to talk with him, the girls have tried to find out why he won't talk to me and we all get a wall of silence. 'Hello Dad' last night were the first words he said to me in a very long time.
"I once asked Penny if she thought that there would ever be any sort of reconciliation between us, but she laughed and told me that he was too much like me to ever change his mind."
