by Andy McNab
As the team prepared the charges, Deveraux looked back and frowned at Fergus as he finally reached the ditch; then she whispered a few words to the commander, who nodded and turned to the big man on his other side.
Deveraux got up and went over to Fergus. 'You're out of this, Watts,' she told him. 'You're even more of a liability than I remembered – you can hardly move. You're going to put the rest of us at risk if you can't keep up.'
'No! I'm here to do a job, just like you.'
Danny had been lying in the ditch with the others, but now he rose to a crouch and went over to join his grandfather and Deveraux. 'What's going on?' he asked.
'I want you to take Grandpa here back to the heli. He's a liability, and so are you. I should never have agreed to you even getting on board.'
'We're part of this mission, Deveraux,' Fergus insisted. 'You know Dudley's orders.'
'Dudley isn't here. I'll give Dudley what he wants, but I'll do it my way.'
'Look, Deveraux—'
As they focused on Deveraux, neither Fergus nor Danny had spotted the big guy coming up behind them. He'd pulled a telescopic steel truncheon out from under his body armour. As he approached, Deveraux nodded to him, and in one swift movement he raised the baton and brought it crashing down into Fergus's right kneecap.
Fergus went down, and his sharp cry of pain was carried away on the wind.
Danny instinctively moved to reach for his Sig, but the big guy grabbed his arm.
'You know that isn't wise, Danny,' said Deveraux. 'You know you can't compromise the mission.'
Danny knew she was right; the mission had to go ahead, whatever Deveraux did. Dudley would sort her out later. He moved his hand away from the pistol and bent down to talk to Fergus, who was clutching his knee. The patella was clearly broken and Fergus would barely be able to make it back to the helicopter.
The big guy put away the baton and looked down at Fergus. 'Sorry, mate. Orders.'
Deveraux was a lot less sympathetic as she watched Fergus grimace with pain. 'You're lucky I didn't have you shot, Watts.' She glared at Danny. 'Get him back to the heli, and stay there until this is over.' She was shaking her head dismissively as she turned away. 'An old man and a boy soldier. Pathetic.'
The commander and the rest of the team had stayed out of the exchange; they were only concerned with their mission. As Deveraux rejoined him, the commander was issuing his orders.
'Rolling start line,' he told them.
It meant they would all be going for the target as quickly as they could: they would split into two teams, each targeting one of the doors. The aim was to reach the doors, place the charges if necessary, and make an entry before anyone knew they were there.
But a rolling start line also meant that they would be vulnerable to attack as they crossed the open ground. The objective would be the same – to get through those doors as quickly as possible – but if they were spotted, they would have to fight their way to the doors across open ground. They were the only known points of entry.
The team commander checked that everyone was ready.
'Go!'
44
The two assault groups moved off. Deveraux followed about five metres behind the team aiming for the left-hand door.
Danny watched them go and then looked down at his grandfather. 'Can you get back to the heli on your own?' he asked.
Pain was nothing new to Fergus. His right leg had taken so much damage over the years, it deserved a chapter all of its own in a medical textbook. He was in agony but his mind was still perfectly clear. 'You're not going anywhere without me,' he breathed through gritted teeth.
'I've got to, Granddad. I've got to see this through, like you said. I'm not letting Deveraux take this away from me too.'
But Fergus was afraid that without him there to watch over his grandson, Danny might well become just another target for Deveraux. 'Stay with me, Danny. Please.'
But Danny wasn't listening. 'Can you make it back?' he demanded.
Fergus nodded, realizing that it was useless trying to stop Danny. 'Even if it means crawling all the way.'
The two assault groups were about halfway across the clearing when rapid flashes from AK47 muzzles erupted from the windows and the sound of automatic fire filled the air.
Danny was already in open ground, going left, following Deveraux.
She had taken cover as the automatic fire started and was crawling through the mud towards the rest of the team, who were returning fire. As Danny approached, he saw one of the team take a round and go down.
The man's partner was the team commander. He could do nothing for his mate at that moment: he still had to take the fight to the enemy and reach the door. The team was firing and moving, firing and moving, just like Danny and Lee had done at the vehicle range. There was always someone getting rounds down at the muzzle flashes in front of them while the others moved forward.
Danny kept running towards the fire almost as if it wasn't there. His feet sank into the mud with each step as rounds thudded down and buried themselves in the ground all around him.
He was scared, but he knew there was nothing he could do about it so he just kept going.
His eyes were fixed on Deveraux, who was crouched down in front of him. As she looked back at the man down, she spotted Danny coming up behind her. She swore, then got up and started off towards the target again. Danny saw that she had lost her MP5. He guessed that it must have been swallowed up in the mud as she threw herself to the ground.
Danny reached the man down and saw that it was the guy who'd felled Fergus with the baton. His left leg was wet with blood and his face was screwed up in pain as he jammed a field dressing into the wound. Danny knew full well that the best way to help him was to leave him there. That was why the team commander had simply gone on towards the target: the quicker the fire fight was over, the sooner the man down would get proper medical attention.
'Go,' he hissed at Danny through gritted teeth. 'Get on with it.'
Danny nodded and ran on, head down, the mud clutching at his feet with each step. The remaining team members were still taking the fight forward, but Danny had lost sight of Deveraux. He dropped down into the icy mud and his eyes scanned the area. Then he spotted her crawling out to the left of the target. And wherever Deveraux went, Danny was going too.
As Danny made his way out wide, he turned to glimpse the fire fight raging between the team and whoever was in the building. The team were finally making ground.
Danny crawled along on his belly until he was almost a hundred metres away from the contact. He was alone in the darkness. He could no longer see Deveraux, but she was obviously seeking out another way in at the back of the building. The team had to carry out their orders: the objective was to enter through those doors at the front. But Deveraux was looking for other options.
Danny got up, his jeans heavily caked in wet mud, and ran round to the rear of the building. It was almost in darkness; no light shone through any of the windows, but a small glimmer was coming from a single door towards the far end. It was ajar, and as Danny approached, he could see that it opened inwards.
He pressed himself against the wall on the hinge side of the door. Drawing down his Sig, he sucked in oxygen, trying to stop his chest from heaving so that he would be able to make his shots accurate.
He curled the three lower fingers of his right hand around the pistol grip. His index finger rested lightly on the trigger, inside the trigger guard.
His mind was working swiftly, running through the vital details he had learned in training and from his grandfather. Briefly he thought of Fergus; he hoped he'd manage to make his way back to the heli safely.
Danny could hear the fire fight continuing on the far side of the building. He couldn't worry about that now. He brought the Sig up into the aim and pushed open the door.
45
Kubara had considered making a run for it when the firing started, but everything had happened too quickly. One of his
heavies had come to tell him to stay put while they dealt with the attack.
The large room that Kubara had earmarked for the laboratory was at the back of the building; it had no windows, just artificial light – he had wanted the twins to concentrate on their work. But it meant that he couldn't see what was going on outside.
He listened to the fire fight and cursed. In any other circumstances he would have been alongside his men, at the forefront of the battle. But this time he had Storm to consider. She was infinitely precious to Kubara and he would willingly have given his own life for her.
The situation was bad, but not desperate. Not yet. The enemy, whoever they were, had not yet entered the building, and his own men were good, hand picked. They might well finish off the attackers before they even made it inside.
Briefly Kubara wondered who they were and how they had picked up his trail. He shook his head – he didn't have time to speculate now. He decided that if they did get inside, this room at the rear of the building would be his final battleground.
His personal bodyguard was still with him, armed now with an AK47. Storm was standing close to her father. She smiled at him confidently, and he smiled back and nodded, attempting to reassure her that everything would be all right.
The twins were sitting down, huddled together in the furthest corner of the room, as far away from the door as possible.
Kubara glared at them, brandishing his own pistol in their direction. 'Get up!'
Teddy and Will scrambled to their feet, terrified for a moment that the Bosnian was about to put bullets into their heads.
'Move over there! Quickly!'
He motioned with the pistol, showing the twins exactly where he wanted them to go.
Slowly they moved closer to the door, realizing that Kubara was using them as his first line of defence. If anyone burst into the room, the twins would surely be their first target.
Kubara made sure that he and Storm were behind the door if it opened, giving him time to react to anyone appearing in the doorway.
The twins stood side by side, shaking with fear. Teddy reached for his brother's hand and gripped it. Tightly.
Danny moved from the doorway into a narrow, dimly lit hallway leading to a corridor. His left hand joined the other on the Sig. Eyes and mouth open, he looked and listened.
He edged carefully into the corridor. To his left was a door that must give access to the front of the building: the sounds of automatic fire clearly came from that direction. To his right, the corridor stretched away with a number of rooms on each side, their doors open.
As he moved slowly down the long corridor, he saw movement to his right, in one of the rooms. He turned, finger on the trigger, taking first pressure, ready to fire at the centre of the mass that was moving towards him.
It was Deveraux; her own weapon was raised in exactly the same way as Danny's.
Their eyes locked onto each other, and then Deveraux's head flicked to one side, telling Danny wordlessly to continue checking the other rooms. It appeared that finally, after all their conflicts, she was prepared to work with the boy soldier rather than against him in order to bring her mission to a successful conclusion.
Danny moved forward, checking out the rooms to his left. Deveraux was behind him, looking right, but Danny was totally focused on what he was doing. The fire fight was just metres away on the other side of the building, but it was like something separate, another battle, or even a dream. The gunfire was strangely muffled in Danny's head, even though he could smell the cordite that was slowly creeping into every part of the building.
Danny was in automatic mode; the training was paying off. Train hard; fight easy. Train easy, fight hard – and die.
He was approaching the end of the corridor. One door remained, directly ahead. It was shut. Something – instinct, training, intuition, he didn't know what – was telling him that Kubara and the twins were hiding behind that closed door.
He wanted to go in first. He had to take them out. He had to see this through.
Deveraux was still a little way behind him, emerging from the last room on the right. Danny knew that once she reached him, she would insist on going in first.
Suddenly the door at the far end of the corridor burst open. Deveraux turned to see who was approaching and immediately started putting down rounds from her Sig. It was one of Kubara's men. He ducked back behind the door and Deveraux backed into the room on the right, ready to fire again if he showed his head.
Danny knew he had to make his move through the closed door. Now.
46
Danny gripped the door handle, turned it and pushed the door open with his shoulder. He saw the twins first, their petrified faces staring back at him from a few metres away.
But then he saw movement behind them and to one side. A weapon was coming up into the aim. It was all Danny needed to know. His eyes fixed on a bald head and wide eyes on top of black leather as the target brought an AK up to his shoulder. Danny's brain took in the information his eyes were receiving in a split second. The twins were not a threat, he realized, but the moving head Danny was focused on could have been one of the many red balloons he'd double tapped during training.
It all happened in an instant, but for Danny it was almost like it was taking place in slow motion. He stood in the doorway, feet solid on the floor, shoulder-width apart to give the weapon a stable firing platform, left hand gripped around the right and the pistol grip. Danny's Sig was racing the AK into a firing position.
The foresight on the Sig came into focus, the bald head blurred, and Danny squeezed the trigger and double tapped the target. Both rounds entered the target's head before he had time to fire his own weapon. And this time it wasn't red chalk-dust flying through the air; it was blood.
As the target fell back, the AK clattered to the floor and skidded towards Danny.
Danny stared, knowing what he had done but not thinking about it. He was masked from the left side of the room by the open door, but the twins' horrified expressions as their eyes flicked to their right told him that someone else was there. It had to be Kubara. But why wasn't he firing?
Danny kicked the door back and turned, pistol still in the aim. Kubara was standing there, his own pistol raised.
And then Danny caught sight of Storm.
His mouth gaped open. And he hesitated.
It was enough. Kubara started to squeeze the trigger of his Makarov.
Storm screamed, 'No!'
There was a click. A stoppage. Kubara stared at the pistol and Danny realized that he still had a chance. But before he could fire, Storm leaped in front of Kubara.
'No, Danny! No! He's my father!'
'What?!'
'It's true! I swear it! I couldn't tell you! Please! Please don't shoot him!'
Danny's mind was reeling. He heard the weapon fire from other parts of the building, but it was Storm's words that were ringing loudest in his head. It was too much to take in. Her father? It wasn't possible. It didn't make sense.
Teddy and Will were backing further into the room, away from Danny and Kubara.
'It's true!' yelled Teddy. 'Kill him!'
'Kill the bastard!' screamed Will. 'Kill him!'
Danny heard movement behind him – footsteps coming into the room – and then, before he had a chance to turn and take aim, rounds were being fired.
The twins had spoken their last words. They took rounds into the head and chest, and Deveraux kept firing until their jerking bodies hit the wall and she was almost level with Danny.