by Andy McNab
The sheer weight of Mr Muscles' bulk was more than enough to make certain his victim didn't move an inch. But just to make sure he had his victim's total co-operation, Mr Muscles opened one of his huge fists and slapped Teddy so hard it made his head spin and his eyes water.
Teddy gasped, but he didn't cry out.
Mr Muscles returned the blood that had splashed onto the sleeve of his leather jacket by wiping it clean on Teddy's shirt. He smiled. 'Good boy. Well done. I'm glad we understand each other.'
In a wall socket in a corner of the room, a double plug adaptor that Fergus had installed in the twins' apartment on an earlier visit was picking up every detail of Teddy's torment. Inside it was a minute bug – a microphone and transmitter that had constant power when it was plugged in.
Outside, in the Mondeo, Danny winced as they heard Teddy take the blows.
Lee saw Danny grimace. 'Part of the job, mate – don't let it get to you. Just focus on what we have to do.'
Phil had parked his Vauxhall closer to the apartment and Siddie Richards's Jaguar, ready to go into action the minute he got the order. He nodded as he heard Teddy get another friendly slap; things were getting interesting at last.
Fergus was approaching the service entrance. That afternoon he'd taped back the lock on the door at the rear of the building. As he listened to the one-sided encounter through his earpiece, he hoped that Siddie's heavies hadn't been instructed to kill Teddy if he didn't co-operate fully. He thought it unlikely – they wanted Teddy's information – but with a monster like Siddie Richards, he couldn't be sure.
And Fergus needed Siddie to go into the apartment. He had to give it a while longer.
For the next few minutes they all listened as first one then the other heavy used his own particularly favoured torture technique on Teddy to soften him up. Teddy screamed like he'd never screamed before as he absorbed the pain.
Blubber Man was proving to be less physical than Mr Muscles, but he carried with him specific tools of the trade. He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a large pair of pliers. 'That's a nice set of teeth you've got there.' He grinned at Teddy. 'Let's see how you look without the front two.'
'Wait a minute,' said Mr Muscles. 'We go on like this and he'll be dead. And we don't want that. Not yet, anyway.'
He pulled a mobile from his bomber jacket pocket and punched in a number.
A thin voice answered the call. 'Well?'
'He's ready for you.'
Siddie considered for a moment. 'I hope you didn't bust that main door lock. I don't want a break-in reported.'
Mr Muscles sounded almost indignant at the slur on his professionalism. 'No! I did it right – I used the code. You know, the one I gave you.'
Earlier in the day he had also made a visit to the apartment building and had quickly discovered the four-digit code number for the electronic key pad on the entrance door. It was easy, a technique he'd perfected as a teenager when he used to look over the shoulders of people using cashpoint machines before mugging them for their card.
This time he'd just smiled at a woman as she approached the door, watched her punch in the numbers, followed her into the building and even got into the lift with her. He waited until she selected her floor and then pressed the button for the one below. He nodded a goodbye and then went back to Siddie with the number securely logged in his memory. Mr Muscles was good at remembering numbers.
Siddie seemed satisfied. 'I'm coming in.'
Mr Muscles ended the call and smiled down at Teddy. 'Now it's really gonna hurt.'
Outside the building, a rear door of the Jaguar opened and Siddie Richards stepped out carrying a baseball bat. Siddie had always had a special liking for the weight and feel of a baseball bat as a weapon of mass destruction.
Danny hit the pressel on the gear stick.
'Stand by, stand by! That's engine and lights off. Wait . . . wait . . . That's x-ray out of the Jaguar, approaching apartment building with a baseball bat'
Fergus was making his way up the concrete service stairs normally used by contractors. He pushed the pressel on the wire dangling from one sleeve of his jacket.
'Phil, you deal with the driver. Danny, Lee, the two x-rays are yours if they come out of the flat. I'm losing this earpiece now – don't want Teddy to see it.'
Fergus pulled the earpiece from his ear and shoved it into a pocket. As he took the stairs three at a time, he slid a silenced Welrod out of his waistband and pushed the safety catch from right to left so that it was ready to fire.
Designed in the Second World War, and looking like a 20cm length of pipe with a pistol grip stuck under it, the Welrod was still the ultimate silence weapon because it had no working parts once the subsonic round was fired: you couldn't even hear the sound of metal scraping against metal.
Siddie used the code to enter the apartment block reception area. Then he took the stairs – the main ones with the thick carpet and modern art on the walls – reasoning that it wasn't a good idea to be seen in the lift with a baseball bat for company.
Meanwhile Phil was already out of his Vauxhall. He took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and put one between his lips.
He walked casually up to the Jaguar and knocked on the driver's window. As the man behind the wheel turned to look at him, Phil smiled and pointed at the unlit cigarette in his mouth. The driver didn't return the smile; he just turned away.
Phil knocked again, and this time the electric window slid down and the driver glared.
'Piss off.'
Phil looked offended. 'I only want a light, mate.'
'I haven't got a light. Now piss off before I get angry.'
Phil's right hand was in his jacket pocket. Before the driver had the chance to say another word, Phil whipped it out and jammed the Taser's two steel probes into his victim's shoulder. The driver didn't have a chance to react; he just shuddered uncontrollably as the electricity crackled. Phil gave him a five-second burst of 100,000 watts and he collapsed onto the passenger seat.
Phil opened the door and lifted the unconscious driver back into a sitting position. The Taser was designed to stun, not to kill, being high wattage but low amperage. But to ensure that the driver remained out of action until well after the operation was over, Phil gave him another fivesecond burst before closing the door and moving away from the Jaguar into the shadows to await further orders.
11
Siddie had reached the top of the building; the long climb up to the penthouse apartment had done nothing to cool his temper, which was always close to boiling point.
Fergus was waiting on the same floor, peering through the crack in the door to the service stairs. He watched the grim-faced Siddie go by and he waited.
By the time Siddie walked into the apartment, his two henchmen had hoisted Teddy up and then leaned his battered body against one of the expensive, but now bloodstained, sofas.
Teddy's face was a bloody mess; it would be some while before Mummy saw her son at his handsome best – if he lived that long.
Siddie looked down at Teddy and then back at the two gorillas. 'Which one is this?'
Mr Muscles and Blubber Man gazed at each other blankly and then back at Siddie. Mr Muscles shrugged his bulging shoulders. 'We didn't ask.'
Siddie sighed. 'Go and wait in the car while I talk to . . . ' He turned back to the young man on the floor and raised his eyebrows enquiringly.
The blood-soaked figure on the carpet swallowed a mixture of blood and mucus and managed to gasp out a single word: 'Teddy.'
'Siddie Richards. You might have heard of me.'
The two henchmen were on their way out when Siddie called after them, 'Use the stairs. And leave the paintings where they are.'
This was exactly what Danny and Lee wanted to hear – they had picked up every word Siddie had spoken through the double-socket bug.
As Fergus watched the two heavies head for the main staircase, Danny and Lee were already out of the Mondeo and into the apart
ment building, also using the service entrance. Moving into the reception area at the front of the building, they pulled Tasers from their pockets before going through the doors to the main stairs.
Lee checked that Danny had a firm grip on the Taser before whispering to him, 'You all right?'
Danny nodded.
'Good. Don't worry, you'll be OK. You take the one on the right. Be sharp. Don't think, just do.'
Danny nodded again, his mouth suddenly dry and his hands clammy. He knew why Lee was concerned and anxious to reassure him. He was about to take offensive action for the first time; actually attack another person. Until this moment Danny had always been on the receiving end of an attack, only fighting to escape. This time it would be very different.
Siddie was sitting in an armchair close to Teddy, who was still sprawled against the sofa, one hand holding his side. He was sure that at least one of his ribs was broken.
Siddie toyed with the baseball bat as he considered his options. When he spoke, his words terrified Teddy more than all the punches, blows and kicks he had received in the previous fifteen minutes.
'Now, I see it like this,' said Siddie in his highpitched voice. 'You've got a business that I want. I like the simple life, Teddy, so I'm giving you a choice.'
Teddy groaned; he was convinced now that he was going to die.
'I could make this long and extremely painful for you, Teddy,' said Siddie, standing up and giving the bat a gentle swing to and fro as if preparing to receive a pitch. 'But I can't be bothered with that stuff any more. So this is what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna ask you just once to tell me all I need to know about Meltdown: where you make it, how you sell it, distribute it – everything. Understand me so far, Teddy?'
Teddy nodded, then winced.
'Good. And you're gonna tell me everything. Right? Because if you don't, I'm gonna hit you once with this baseball bat. It will only take one blow to the side of your head. You'll be dead, Teddy. Gone. Capisce?'
Teddy swallowed hard and nodded again.
Siddie gave the bat a proper swing, as if he were attempting to hit the ball out of the stadium. 'And when you're dead, I'll just get everything I need from your brother. Time to start talking, Teddy. And remember, you only get one chance.'
Teddy drew in a breath and opened his mouth. But as he watched Siddie's fingers tighten on the baseball bat, his throat convulsed and he choked.
'All right, Teddy, you've had your chance . . .'
Teddy gasped and once again tried to speak, and then his eyes widened as he saw a figure appear through the door from the hall.
Siddie saw his victim's eyes flick to one side and then the tiny glimmer of hope that followed.
He wheeled round, grasping the baseball bat tightly; ready to take on whoever was behind him.
Fergus was less than three metres away, pistol raised and aimed at Siddie's head.
Siddie's narrow eyes registered a moment of total confusion.
A dull thud sounded and he staggered back, blood spurting from the back of his head like a red aerosol spray before his legs gave way and he fell back like a toppling chimney. He thudded to the floor. Both legs twitched for a moment and then were still.
Fergus walked over and stared down at the body. In death, Siddie's eyes were wide open.
At that instant Teddy's bladder finally gave way, and he pissed himself. He felt shame, terror, relief that he was still alive – and an overwhelming gratitude towards the man who had saved his life.
'You . . . you killed him,' he mumbled as Fergus turned towards him.
Fergus shrugged, hiding his disappointment that he had been forced to act before Teddy had revealed any of the info on Meltdown. He shoved the weapon back into his waistband. 'He won't be missed.'
12
Mr Muscles and Blubber Man were chatting contentedly as they made their way down the stairs. They rarely got the opportunity to pulverize posh boys; it was almost always other low-life like themselves. So when the chance came along, they liked to enjoy themselves and make the most of it. Their only regret was that it had been all too brief; they could happily have done a lot more damage before Siddie took over. Still, it was a job well done.
The staircase was little used; the residents of the apartment block hadn't paid over the odds merely for a canal view. There were two efficient lifts that made climbing stairs an unnecessary inconvenience.
So the two heavies were not expecting to meet anyone as they plodded down. They reached the landing of the third floor, turned and continued down the next flight of stairs.
Danny and Lee were waiting out of sight on the second floor, immediately after the next turn. Danny's hands were wet with sweat and he was repeatedly wiping his Taser hand on his jeans so that he could keep a firm grip on the weapon.
His face was a mask of concentration as he got the nod from Lee to go. They both held their Tasers in their right hands as they heard the approaching voices getting louder in the stairwell above them. As Danny turned the corner with Lee, he could see the two targets at the top of the stairs. The huge guys' conversation immediately shut down when they caught sight of Danny and Lee and came down towards them.
Lee kept his eyes lowered: he knew the rule – never make eye contact with a target because he will be alert and suspicious. And no matter how hard an attacker tries to disguise it, his eyes will always show intent, or fear, or determination. The target's inner self-defence mechanism will always spot this.
The two pairs closed on each other, but the targets had no intention of giving way to the two young dickheads coming up towards them.
Lee stopped and stood to one side, with the targets about ten steps above, waiting for them to pass before zapping them from behind.
Danny's head was thumping in time with his heart. He could feel his pulse in his neck; he was certain everyone could hear it as he too stopped and waited.
Then Danny made his mistake. He knew he shouldn't have but he couldn't stop himself: his eyes moved upwards towards the two heavies. Maybe he was checking out where he was going to zap his target, maybe he wanted to see what they were thinking, or maybe he was just scared.
But he did it. He fixed his eyes on the target on his side of the stairs. Blubber Man's pupils closed down as he focused on Danny's eyes. And he knew. Danny had given him all the information he needed.
'Oh, shit!'
The rest happened in an instant. Blubber Man launched himself at Danny, and Lee had no option but to move up to take on Mr Muscles before he too had registered what was happening.
Danny didn't even have time to raise his Taser as the mass of fat slammed into him and projected him down the stairs. His head thumped on the last few steps before crashing back onto the landing.
Starbursts flashed in his head and eyes as his brain struggled to recover. His head was telling his legs to move, to get him up and ready to fight, but the message wasn't getting through. All Danny could do was keep a grip on the Taser as Blubber Man hurled himself down onto his body. Every bit of breath was forced from Danny's lungs and he fought for oxygen, kicking and bucking beneath the giant man as a massive hand gripped his neck and two staring, bloodshot eyes blazed into his own.
'Who the fuck are you?'
Danny didn't even attempt to answer. He didn't have the breath. He couldn't move his hand to zap the huge bulk on top of him. All he could do was writhe and twist as Blubber Man's face came closer. He could smell alcohol and tobacco and feel a couple of days' stubble rasp across his skin as the man shouted loudly into his ear.