Crossfire

by Andy McNab

  I turned, making sure Dom was with me. Little pulled me back. 'Those weapons have killed twelve focking Brit soldiers between them. Young lads, they were, in their prime. Well, the four I killed were, anyway.'

  He kept hold of me a little bit longer, to let me share his enjoyment of the memory.

  When we got to the bins, Dom looked back over my shoulder. 'You never said you were SAS.'

  'You just asked how I knew the Yes Man. How the fuck do you think I got to work for the Firm in the first place? Now, get stuck into that bin and have a scavenge.'

  101

  Herbert Park

  Wednesday, 14 March

  0128 hrs

  I sat well back from the window. The curtains were open but the house was in darkness, and had been since eleven. There had been virtually no traffic for the last half-hour; most of the neighbourhood was tucked up in bed.

  They would come for us soon.

  Dom sat at the top of the kitchen stairs, gripping the pole of his taser. It was plugged in, but not yet switched on.

  Mine leant against the sofa, also ready to go. We both had twenty metres of play.

  'Don't forget, mate.' I kept my voice low. 'Just a two-second burst.'

  The third taser was on the landing above us, in case there was a total fuck-up down here and we had to stand our ground upstairs. The two AKs were in Dom and Siobhan's bedroom.

  They were our last resort. The Yes Man's guys wouldn't come in guns blazing, and no way did I want to use them inside the house unless the whole thing turned into a gangfuck. We'd wake up the whole street; the police would have the area sealed off within minutes. And that wouldn't get us any closer to Finbar. We wanted to know what was in their heads, but without spraying it all over the walls.

  A shiny BMW 5 Series crawled past the house. The couple inside were dressed up for a night out. I wondered what they'd had for dinner. I was on my sixth brew and third packet of Hobnobs since we'd supposedly gone to bed.

  They would definitely come tonight. The Yes Man wouldn't risk any more activity from us, any more phone calls or visits – especially since he didn't know exactly what we were up to. He would have to cut it here and now.

  There would still have to be some finesse about the lift. I didn't know whether Mr Green and Mr Black could handle that, but I knew the way he'd want it. No gunshots. No noise. Just lift and go.

  And I knew the way I wanted it. Whoever came to give us the good news was going to get zapped, then zapped again and again until one of them came up with the goods.

  The BMW finally found a parking place and the couple got out. Her body language wasn't encouraging. She wasn't amused with the driver, not one bit. She stormed off towards a house further along the street while the old boy did the business with his key fob. The lights flashed once and he followed subserviently.

  I thought about the weapons upstairs, and what they might have done over the years. They were so ancient the wood furniture had been rubbed bare. They were more than old enough to have killed those lads, and now they were going to be killing some UDA, and hopefully even a Brit. About time too. He needed culling.

  Vehicle lights splashed across the road. The Seat cruised past from right to left. Both faces peered into the house.

  I let them go and kept perfectly still. 'Stand by, mate, they're here.'

  'How many?'

  'Just the two of them. But they'll be carrying. They're not going to come in empty-handed. Don't fuck about – give them the good news as soon as I shout, OK?'

  I stood up and flicked on the socket switch.

  They wouldn't just smash their way in, run upstairs and hope to grab us before we knew what was happening. That left only the doors or windows, at the front or back – and even if they had only two brain cells between them, they'd work out that the back was the better option.

  The locks on the downstairs toilet window were still undone – I'd made sure of that – and I'd slid open the catch to make it even easier for them. I wanted them to come in together. We needed to zap them both at the same time. Letting either of them do a runner to fuck up the whole plan was not an option.

  Another five minutes crawled by. Mr Black walked past the house from left to right, checking everything out. He had a small day sack on his back. Fuck me, was there a third method of entry? Was he going to blow his way in?

  He disappeared down the road. Mr Green would surely be working his way round the back, checking the walls to make sure the one they jumped over really was at the back of the correct house.

  Mr Black came back the other way, towards the Seat. I waited for him to get out of sight.

  'Won't be long now, mate.'

  102

  We moved into the kitchen. Dom flicked on the power to his taser.

  I grabbed the stick with my free hand and put my mouth to his ear. 'With me, with me . . .' We moved slowly back to the island and lowered ourselves behind it.

  There was a scraping noise at the window below us.

  'When I move, you move. Straight in there before he knows what's happening. And once he's down, give him one for luck.'

  Low murmurs drifted up from the garden. The toilet window was given a short, sharp push. They knew it was open now. They'd take their time, ease it up slowly.

  I gripped the taser pole in my right hand. The forks would be clearly visible above the island, but by the time they'd spotted it, it would already be too late.

  I heard feet touching the floor and the toilet-door hinge squeak. There was a rustle of nylon. I put my hand on Dom's shoulder to stop him jumping the gun.

  I heard a low whisper, then the first creak on the stair.

  I leant round the side of the island. Light glowed dimly in the stairwell.

  Mr Green's head appeared above floor level. He paused and started climbing again, very slowly. Mr Black was right behind him.

  I kept a hand on Dom until Mr Green had reached the top step and Mr Black was in view from the waist up.

  'Go! Go! Go!' I yelled at the top of my voice, and lunged the four paces to the banister. I was aiming for Mr Black, to make sure their escape route was blocked. Dom had to take his chances with Mr Green.

  Both tried their best to react, but Mr Black was too slow. I jabbed the taser forks into his shoulder like I was spear-fishing. He didn't even gasp, just fell forward on to the stairs.

  Dom and Mr Green were getting up close and personal. There were a lot of grunts and shouts, and the stools beside the island toppled and fell.

  I plunged the forks at the end of my broomstick into my target's back and left them there.

  Dom's taser was on the floor, inches away from where they grappled. Dom was on top. I grabbed the broom handle as Mr Green arched his back and tried to head-butt him.

  I kicked out at Dom. 'Get off him! Get the fuck off!' But Dom was in his own world. He threw a punch at the guy's head. He was well fired up. This guy was about to pay big-time for what Sundance and Trainers had done to Pete.

  Fuck it. I touched Dom's back with the forks and he jolted sideways. I pulled him away with one hand and gave the boy on the ground a two-second burst with the other.

  'Close the curtains, mate, get the lights on. Go on, go! Go!'

  Dom stumbled to his feet.

  Mr Green gave an agonized groan. This place smelt like someone had burnt the Sunday roast.

  'And turn the power off on mine. I'll use yours to deal with this fucker. Just pull out the plug before we have any more drama, but leave the taser where it is.'

  I stood over the guy in the green bomber, ready to give him an extra zap.

  Dom tried to orient himself, but he was staggering like a drunk.

  'Cancel that, mate – just grab the torch and search this fucker.'

  He finally got the message and did as he was told.

  I watched as he turned out Mr Green's pockets. He had a mobile phone and a .38 snub-nosed revolver. There was no need to worry about Mr Black suddenly pulling a weapon. He was toast.
<
br />   Another minute or so and we had the curtains closed, the lights back on. I gave Mr Green a kick in the ribs. 'Sit up!'

  He didn't budge. I didn't blame him. In his position, I wouldn't have cooperated either.

  I brushed his leg with the forks. His whole body jolted. He dragged himself on to his arse with his hands behind him. He was bowed, but not beaten. He could smell Mr Black; we all could. 'Fuck it. Get on with it then, boy – fry me.'

  I looked at Dom. 'Ask him. Ask him what you need to know.'

  'Where is Finbar?' He stooped to Mr Green's level. 'Where is my stepson?'

  'Fuck you.'

  I touched the forks to his shoulder. He saw them coming and tried to duck, but he went down hard. I gave him a good three seconds and he screamed.

  He rolled on to his hands and knees and crawled towards the living room. Dom and I followed him across the floor. 'Fucking switch on, mate. We can do what we want with you here, so what are you holding out for? You'll fucking die – you really going to leave the Brit sitting pretty while you take the punishment? Where is Finbar? And where's the Brit?'

  I brushed the back of his calf with the forks and he swivelled like a break-dancer. 'Come on, we can do this all night. Dom here's paid his electric bill. It ain't going to be cut off.'

  I sparked up his mobile, a cheap old red and grey thing. He had no call history, no address book. Whoever he needed to call, or whoever was going to call him, they knew each other's numbers.

  I gave his arse a jab this time. His body hit the floor like it was trying to melt into it. His breaths came fast and short.

  'OK, here's the deal. You tell me who you were going to call once you'd lifted us, and I'll go easy with the cutlery. Let's start from there, yeah?'

  His right cheek was pressed to the floor. I brought the forks down level with his left eye.

  'What about a jab to the frontal lobe? A couple of seconds of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest treatment. You'd end up barking at the moon every Tuesday. Come on, you're not fucking helping yourself. Where is the boy?'

  He closed his eye. 'They'd fucking kill me.'

  I touched the forks quickly to his skull and he half gurgled, half screamed. I gave him a Timberland in the ribs for good measure. 'Shut the fuck up. That's not what I want to hear.'

  Dom grabbed my arm. 'Nick . . .'

  If he was suddenly trying to play the good guy, fuck him. This was the only way we'd get results this side of lunch-time.

  'No, mate. If he doesn't tell us, he's going to die.'

  Mr Green opened his eye again to see the forks just inches away. 'All right, then, just tell us who you were going to phone. Who were you going to contact to say you'd got us?'

  Snot dribbled from his nose and formed a small puddle of slime on the floor. He sniffed hard. 'The Brit . . . I was going to call the Brit . . .'

  'And what was the Brit going to do?'

  'He was waiting.'

  He couldn't control his breathing. The electricity churning through his heart had interfered with the comms system linking his brain and lungs.

  'If you don't come up with some answers, the next zap's going to kill you.'

  I got down on my knees and leant forward until our faces were level. I wanted to make sure I was close enough to hear if he started to have a heart attack. 'I bet you never thought this would happen when you signed up, eh? Now where's the boy?'

  'Dun . . . Dundalk.' It was scarcely more than a whisper.

  'Dundalk?'

  He nodded like a drunk on a pavement.

  'And that's where you were going to take us?'

  He nodded again.

  'What was going to happen there?'

  He didn't need to draw pictures. We both knew. He was probably the one who would have done it.

  I stood up.

  I wanted him to get his breath back. He still had work to do.

  I undid his day sack. 'Right, Dom,' I said. 'Let's have a look at this boy's party bag.'

  103

  I knew Dundalk well. It was only an hour and a bit up the motorway, and just this side of the border. As a young squaddy in South Armagh's bandit country, I'd often hear PIRA test-firing their homemade mortars down there. It was a sure sign we were going to get zapped within the next couple of days.

  Later, when I was in the Regiment, the area still teemed with known PIRA ASU members, until we were told to do something about it. Who knows? Maybe it really was me who'd killed Little's mate. I hoped so.

  Dom had all the gear from Mr Green's day sack on the floor. They'd come well prepared. There were foot-long strips of thin rubber to tie us up; gaffer-tape for our mouths; even a couple of black motorbike bags with drawstrings to bung over our heads.

  Mr Green had finally managed to control his breathing. I knelt down beside him again. 'I don't want to know, so don't tell me – but if you've got kids and want to see them again, you'll do as you're told. I'm giving you the chance to live, here. You understand?'

  He understood.

  'In a minute, you're going to give that body of yours a shake and load your mate into the back of the wagon. Then all four of us are driving north. On the way, you're going to do what you're supposed to do and call the Brit. You got a name for him?'

  He shook his head. I believed him. The Yes Man was no fool.

  'You'll tell him you've lifted us both and you're on your way. Understood?'

  'Aye.'

  'Which one of you has the keys?'

  He jerked his head in the direction of the spiral staircase.

  'Here's what's going to happen. You're going to stay exactly where you are until I say to move or you'll get this in your fucking ear.' I looked up. 'Dom, get the keys, bring their wagon round the back, then fetch the weapons and unplug that taser upstairs. Don't want to burn the place down.'

  Dom rifled the body on the stairs. The back door opened and closed a moment later.

  Mr Green got a bit more confident. 'What do you think you're going to do when we get there? He'll rip your fucking heart out.'

  'I'll just have to make sure I rip his out first. How many players has he got there in Dundalk?'

  'Fucking loads. Why don't you just let me go? I'll tell you where he is. You can take the car. I don't want any of this shit.'

  I touched his head with the forks. He melted into the floor once more.

  'How many?'

  'Five.'

  'Including the Brit?'

  'No.'

  'Where in Dundalk? Town or outskirts?'

  'West. A farm. It's a scrappy now.'

  That's better. Keep doing what I say and you'll still be around for breakfast.'

  Dom came back and didn't say a word. He ran upstairs and reappeared with the weapons.