by Andy McNab
'They're leaving. We're about to lose them. Need a decision now.'
In Barcelona, Dudley knew he had only one option. 'Hit them!'
From now on, it was all down to Phil and Mr Monotone.
'First truck moving out of hangar, two up – we can't get them once they leave the estate. Splash it.'
'Roger that. Splashing now.'
Phil saw the laser beam shoot down from the sky and hit the truck as it slowly pulled out of the hangar, crunching through the gears as it gradually gained speed.
It was moving away towards the exit when Phil gave the command.
'Go! Go! Go!'
'Roger that. Go.'
Mr Monotone pressed a button on his console, and instantly a Hellfire rocket motor ignited and the missile pulled away from the Predator's wings. The detector in its nose swished about, trying to locate the laser beam it was to follow. It didn't take long: after a couple of seconds the Hellfire tilted downward and rocketed towards the earth.
Dudley had known there was no longer any chance of a co-ordinated attack. He had to deploy the Hellfires. The SAS CT team might as well pack up and go home. All Dudley could hope for now was that the attack would be swift and final.
Phil waited. The Predator was far too high in the sky for anyone on the ground to know that the deadly missile was on its way. The laser beam followed the truck as it moved along the airstrip road, splashing over the sides as it broke up on the roof.
'That's the second truck now pulling out of the hangar.'
The missile made contact with the first truck about five seconds after locking on to the laser.
There was a brilliant flash of light and an earsplitting thud. The shock wave of the detonation made Phil drop to the ground as he saw the trailer end of the truck lift into the air. It dropped back to the ground and the whole vehicle exploded into a fireball.
'Take the second!' yelled Phil into his phone. The second truck!'
Mr Monotone didn't go in for long conversations.
'Roger that'
Phil looked up to see the laser beam move across to the second truck. The driver had screeched to a standstill just outside the hangar when he saw the first vehicle explode. He was still in the vehicle, obviously panicking, not knowing whether to put his foot down or sit still or get out and run.
He didn't get a chance to make up his mind. Within seconds the second truck erupted into a fireball and the shock waves knocked Phil back down onto the ground.
He could feel the heat of the burning trucks against his body and when he looked up, he saw the flames from the second truck licking back into the hangar itself. He had no further need of his NVGs – the whole area was lit up by the flames.
But there was no sign of Fiery Fred. Maybe he was cowering somewhere inside the hangar.
Phil picked up his MP5 to finish the job when suddenly the Mini burst from the hangar like a Formula One Ferrari. In the light of the flames, Phil could see that Freddie was driving, clinging onto the steering wheel with one hand and frantically dialling his mobile with the other. The number he dialled didn't even ring. The phone was lying in pieces on a Spanish road.
Mr Monotone came back.
'The Mini is getting away. You want that stopped?'
'Do it!'
The Mini was already being splashed. It was just passing the first truck when the missile hit and the vehicle jumped into the air, turning into a fireball as it landed on its roof.
Mr Monotone was as cool as ever when he came back.
'All targets destroyed. What's that noise?'
Phil smiled. 'Dogs. They're going ape-shit.'
42
The mud was thick and black, exactly as Kubara had warned. It sucked at their Wellington boots as they followed his torch beam through the woods. Finally through the pitch darkness ahead, they saw a light, and as they approached it, they realized that it was shining outside a long, single-storey building at the centre of a clearing.
Teddy and Will hesitated as Kubara and Storm entered the clearing, but the huge bodyguard pushed them roughly forward.
A welcoming committee of four more of Kubara's heavies, all holding Russian AK47 assault rifles, stood waiting outside the building. It didn't look like an industrial building; it was more likely a farm building of some sort.
Kubara glanced back and saw that the twins were shivering, and it wasn't just because of the biting wind that cut through the trees like a knife.
'Don't worry,' he called back to them. 'It's much warmer inside.'
The guards stood aside as Kubara pushed open the door and led the way inside.
It was warmer, and brightly lit. Teddy and Will pulled off the boots, replaced them with their own shoes and looked around. They were in a lobby area; a corridor ran along the front of the building. Another, directly ahead, evidently led to more rooms at the rear.
The constant throb of a generator, which must have been supplying the light and the warmth, was suddenly drowned out by the noise of the Sikorsky taking off.
Teddy had lapsed into a listless silence again, but Will was still asking questions. 'Where are we? And what is this place?'
'We are in Germany, just. And this place? Once it was for chickens – many thousands of chickens.' Kubara sniffed the air. 'We try and try, but we can never quite lose the smell of their shit. Now, it is all for you.'
'You mean we have to live here?'
Kubara shrugged. 'Live here and work here. For a little while. There is a house nearby, through the forest, and later perhaps we move you there. If you work hard, as I know you will. But for now you will find this is perfectly comfortable; it has everything you need.'
Will glanced at his brother and then turned to look at Storm. Her blue eyes were cold and her voice was hard when she spoke. 'I won't be staying to keep you company,' she told him. 'I shall be going home tomorr-' She checked her watch. 'A little later today.'
'And where is home?'
Storm smiled. 'A long way away.'
'My daughter deserves a long holiday,' said Kubara proudly. 'But you must work. In a few hours your new colleagues will arrive, and you will teach them everything. I will show you around and then I think you should rest for a little while.'
Will glanced towards the door, wondering if even now it would be better to risk trying to make a run for it.
'Don't even think of it, Will,' Kubara warned him. 'There is nowhere to run to and no one is coming to help you. Not even your friend, Mr Watts.'
The twins looked at each other hopelessly. They had realized long ago that there was no hope of rescue from Fergus.
'Of course I knew about him,' said Kubara. 'I was going to kill him, but Storm likes the boy, Danny.' He smiled at his daughter. 'And I can never refuse anything she asks me. Now, you must see your new laboratory. I know you will like it.' The Cougar pilot had found a landing place – it was a clearing in a dip in the ground, close to a small river that wound through the forest.
The target building was around eight hundred metres away. The lower ground and the tall trees would have shielded the noise of the Cougar landing, but the pilot knew it was as close as he could risk going.
He was giving the team the longitude and latitude of the target, which they were entering in their handheld sat navs. This meant that they could pinpoint the exact location of the target.
Once the team moved, the sat navs would guide them, giving constant updates on their location as they went. Civilian sat navs only show the position of something to within ten metres; military versions fix it to one metre.
The Cougar's engines were still running and would remain running, the rotors turning, until the team had completed its mission and was ready to lift off again. Helis rarely close down in the field: failure to restart the engines could put an operation in danger.
Deveraux's team was ready to move. It had its own commander, who would be giving the orders once the team reached the FAP; even Fergus and Deveraux would follow those orders. The team knew precisel
y what was required, but it was up to the team commander to make the decisions on how it was carried out.
But before the doors slid back, Deveraux had a few last words of warning for Fergus and Danny. 'Do not, in any way, interfere with the way the attack is carried out,' she told them. 'You will stay behind the team and myself at all times. If you get in the way, you'll jeopardize the objective of taking out Kubara and put your own lives at risk.'
Danny smiled. 'Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you. Suit you perfectly.'
Fergus looked at his grandson and shook his head. He knew that Deveraux, technically at least, had every right to say what she was saying. He'd been in these team situations himself many times before. The team works like a machine, with each part depending on the other parts to function efficiently.
But that didn't mean that Fergus was prepared to allow his own side of the operation to be put at risk. He had a job to finish too. He was there to make sure the twins were killed.
He nodded at Deveraux. Then the heli's doors slid back and the attack was on.
43
As Danny hit the ground and started to run, he felt his legs buckle and almost give way. The long hours of sitting in the heli doing nothing had taken their toll, but he forced himself on, and the strength in his legs soon began to return.
The team commander had decided that there would be no tactical approach to the target: they would simply run as fast as they could – the attack had to start as quickly as possible if they were to reach Kubara before he found out about the destruction of the DMP. He might well not remain where he was; he might even have a car here. The team had to act fast.
Each member had their personal communications. They would pick up any orders from their commander in their earpiece once they reached the FAP and got a sighting of exactly what lay ahead of them.
Danny moved as swiftly as anyone, running upwards through the woods. He had always been a good runner, so keeping pace with the others was not a problem.
Fergus wasn't finding it so easy. He kept himself very fit, but not only was he a lot older than everyone else; he'd taken two bullets in his right thigh. He simply couldn't run any more.
The FAP was a shallow drainage ditch on the edge of the wooded area. Directly ahead was open ground and about 200 metres away stood a low building.
By the time Fergus reached the FAP, the team was already lying in the ditch, looking at the long dark shape of the target through their NVGs. They could hear a generator humming and saw lights shining from a couple of windows at the front of the building. There was no sign of movement outside.
It was bitterly cold, and the icy wind cutting across the clearing was making the surrounding tall trees sway and rustle. The noise was good; anything that muffled the sound of the approaching team could only help.
Danny saw that Deveraux was talking to the team commander; they were searching for all possible entry points. The principle of all room combat is to get as many of the team as possible into the target at one time. That way, the team quickly swamps the inside of the building so that the x-rays within do not have time to react.
The team commander had clocked the two doors at either end of the building. They were closed but he had no idea whether or not they were locked.
That wouldn't be a problem: each team member had an explosive door-entry charge in the back pouch of their body armour.
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 d
o 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.