by Andy McNab
‘Not so much a geek,’ said Kat. ‘I’m that rare thing: a chick who digs PlayStations.’
‘And both Luke and Kat will be responsible for keeping tabs on Johnny here at base,’ said Sam. ‘The tracking device he’ll have in his tooth will send an encrypted signal via satellite to our equipment here. We’ll be able to pinpoint him to within a few metres, which is pretty good. All of you will take it in turns and do planned – but randomly timed – sweeps of where Johnny is, keeping an eye on the DLBs just in case.’
‘What about me, Sam?’ said Ethan. ‘What else do you want me to do?’
‘You’re Johnny’s backup,’ said Sam. ‘Like an understudy in a play, you have to learn your own cover story and Natalya will give you a crash course in CQC and Krav Maga. You’ll be a good sparring partner for Johnny. That way, if Johnny is compromised and we pull him from the op, you’re on. Right?’ Sam glanced over to Natalya. ‘They’re all yours. You’ve got three days, then I need them ready for the street.’
14
Briefing over, Ethan was outside with Johnny and Natalya. All he knew of Krav Maga was what he’d seen from Natalya, and that had resulted in a splattered nose; he was looking forward to learning a fighting style so effective. He wasn’t so keen on the idea of being a sparring partner though.
‘Johnny has some knowledge of Krav Maga already,’ said Natalya to Ethan. ‘It is an Israeli martial art developed during the persecution of the Jews in Germany and is based on street fighting. It is designed to be effective against the use of clubs, bottles, knives and firearms.’
Ethan had never before heard of Krav Maga; he wondered what made it so special? ‘What about other martial arts like karate or jujitsu?’ he asked.
‘Complicated and ineffective,’ dismissed Natalya. ‘Krav Maga is instinctive. It trains you to use simpler, basic moves; punch, kick, bite, gouge. It is brutal. So, we warm up, yes?’
Ethan quickly learned that what Natalya actually meant was to push yourself close to exhaustion. Through a series of runs, punching and kicking drills and other exercises like press-ups and burpees, she had both him and Johnny soon gasping for air.
No sooner had the warm-up finished than Natalya was moving them on to basic fighting drills. With a nod, she handed Johnny a dummy pistol made of black rubber. He thrust it in her back.
‘Always keep your hands at waist height,’ she said, her eyes on Ethan. ‘It is more difficult for the attacker to see what you are doing. And you must look for execution triggers, something that tells you you’re likely to be shot.’
‘Like this?’ said Johnny; jabbing the pistol in Natalya’s back, he started to yell at her to get on her knees. And he sounded like he meant it; for all his joking around, Ethan could see that getting on the wrong side of Johnny would be a bad idea.
Natalya reacted, flipping round to the outside of the arm holding the pistol. Gripping Johnny’s arm against her body with her right arm, she went at his neck with three successive blows from her free elbow, then brought her foot down into Johnny’s leg, forcing him to the ground. Finally she broke the weapon from Johnny’s hand and slammed it down onto his face, still holding his arm. Johnny dropped.
Ethan was speechless.
‘Survival is not just about defence,’ said Natalya, helping Johnny to his feet. ‘First principle of Krav Maga – as with any form of martial art – is to avoid a fight whenever possible. If that means giving someone your wallet or the keys to your car, you do it. Always walk away if you can. But if that is not possible, then you must attack your attacker.’
‘Isn’t that still asking for trouble?’
Natalya shook her head. ‘You will live longer if you know how to neutralize the threat and make sure your attacker is in no fit state to chase after you to do further damage.’
‘And that means using everything around you,’ said Johnny. ‘A wall or a tree … a table. It does not matter; just use it to your advantage.’
Ethan asked, ‘Why didn’t you use the pistol on Johnny once you had it?’
‘Most weapons on the street are either replicas, do not work, or the person holding it does not know how to use the safety,’ explained Natalya. ‘Much better to use it as a club and break their face open.’
Now it was Ethan’s turn. He was given the rubber pistol and told to keep his finger out of the trigger guard.
‘It is why we call disarming moves breaks,’ said Natalya. ‘They usually snap the finger holding the trigger.’
Ethan jabbed the pistol in Natalya’s back. A blur of movement was all he noticed and Natalya had him disarmed and on the floor. He hadn’t stood a chance.
‘Now you try,’ said Natalya.
After running through the drill a few times, Natalya put the pistol away and worked Ethan and Johnny through some unarmed basics, deflecting punches and kicks and dealing with an attack from behind.
Johnny grabbed Ethan round the neck, forcing him to bend forward. Following Natalya’s instructions, Ethan looked up at Johnny and brought his hands to gouge his face and grab the arm round his neck. He then twisted out of the hold, kept a grip on Johnny’s arm and sent his foot into his stomach. Johnny dropped to the floor.
‘I think you’re getting the hang of this,’ he said.
Day five came round so quickly that Ethan half felt like he’d been kicked out of a dream. Sam had everyone in the dining room at the house. By now it was feeling almost like home and Ethan was pretty comfortable. Kat poured the tea.
‘Seriously,’ said Johnny, ‘tea’s just not doing it for me any more. It’s turning my skin a funny colour.’
Sam ignored him. ‘Let’s run through what we’re all doing,’ he said. ‘We’ll start with the mission statement.’
Sam handed a piece of paper around with a simple sentence written on it. Ethan had no idea what Sam was on about.
‘This is how it’s done in the Regiment, and it’s how we’re going to do it here,’ Sam explained. ‘It feels stupid, but we all read it twice out loud, OK? That way we all understand why we’re here and what the ultimate goal of what we’re doing actually is.’
Sam was right, thought Ethan; that did sound stupid. But he wasn’t about to say so. As one, the group read aloud what was on the paper: ‘The mission is to stop the dealing of arms by Mr X.’
Once they’d read it twice, Kat came in with, ‘But I thought we were going in to bust this cage-fighting thing? Isn’t that what this is all about?’
Sam shook his head. ‘That’s all part of it, but not the ultimate goal. Stopping the cage fighting is a lucky bonus. You’re here to find out where the fighting takes place and get to that server. Gabe and his cronies are convinced it is kept in the same place. I cannot emphasize enough the impact of this mission being successful.’
‘You make it sound like the boys doing the fighting don’t matter,’ said Kat.
Ethan heard the edge in Kat’s voice again. It was becoming clear to him that she wasn’t in this just because skydiving made her sexy – which it seriously did – but because she really wanted not just to do something with her life, but to do something that mattered. He liked that a lot.
‘I’m going to forget you said that, Kat,’ said Sam, and he turned to Johnny. ‘It’s late morning now. I want you on the streets by 1400. The sooner you’re on the street, the better for us. You smell terrible.’
‘You’re to blame for that,’ said Johnny. ‘All that bloody Krav Maga stuff and not being able to shower.’
‘No more talk,’ said Sam. ‘We go live in an hour. Johnny, how’s the tracker device in your tooth?’
Ethan hadn’t seen it being fitted. It had happened a couple of days ago; someone grey and nondescript had turned up at the house, spent half an hour with Johnny, then left.
‘Fine,’ said Johnny. ‘Feels like I’ve got a toffee stuck in it, but I reckon it’s secure.’
‘The signal is crystal,’ said Luke. ‘Tracking will not be a problem.’
Sam turned to Ethan and Natalya.
‘I want you two on the ground when we let Johnny go operational. You’ll do a four-hour rotation. I’ll be with you so we all do four on, eight off. It’ll keep us fresh, give us time to sleep and keep sharp. You’re not there to stop him getting snatched. You’re there as rapid reaction backup if he finds himself in trouble. The homeless are easy pickings for idiots and drunks out for a bit of meat.’
‘Such a way with words, Sam,’ said Johnny.
Sam went straight on with his orders. ‘Johnny, you’ll be dropped off at a location that will allow you to move out into the sector we’ve got mapped without being noticed. It would be pretty weird if we just dropped you off in a shopping centre in the state you’re in. You’ll have blankets, a tobacco tin, and a sleeping bag which, incidentally, may look rotten, but is a military-spec arctic bag that’ll have you cozy down to minus forty, so you should be fine.’
‘What about a dog?’ asked Natalya. ‘Is that also not part of the uniform?’
Sam stood up. ‘Get to it everyone. Now.’
A couple of hours later Ethan was looking at Johnny through the window of Sam’s Defender. They were parked round the back of an old warehouse. It was a serious fall from grace. Johnny looked not just homeless, but half-insane, with his usually well-styled long blond hair sticking out like the hair of a wet cat.
Sam leaned over Ethan to speak to Johnny. ‘This is all a massive long shot, Johnny, but we’ve just got to go with it. No matter what, we’re right behind you.’
Sam pulled the Defender away and Ethan watched Johnny’s reflection shrink in the wing mirror. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but he was pleased it wasn’t him.
15
Ethan was sitting in a 24/7 café. He was starting to think that if he had to do another four hours waiting around for nothing to happen he might go insane. Opposite was the alleyway Johnny had called home for the past three nights. Ethan had a good viewpoint of anyone going in or coming out. It was a dead end anyway, so at least no one could come at Johnny from behind.
It was close to midnight and the streets were filling up with boozeheads all out to see if they could find somewhere else that stayed open even longer. A girl in a minidress stumbled against the window Ethan was staring through. She giggled, blew him a kiss, fell away. Watching her leave, half wishing he was out trashing himself like everyone else, he spotted a group of three blokes on the other side of the road. They were hanging around the entrance to Johnny’s alleyway. Ethan wasn’t sure, but they looked like they were shouting at something down it. Probably a dog, he thought.
Then they moved into the alleyway, leaving the main road behind.
Ethan knew something was wrong. These weren’t the guys come to snatch Johnny, that much was for sure. This was no organized street abduction; it was the beer talking everyone up to a tough walk, a lot of shouting and a chance of some easy, risk-free violence.
Ethan called it in.
‘Keep an eye,’ said Sam. ‘It might be nothing. Stay clear, but keep me updated.’
‘Want me to go help?’
‘Negative,’ said Sam. ‘Do not blow Johnny’s cover.’
Ethan knew he needed to get a closer look though. Downing his tea, which had gone cold a long time ago, he shuffled out of the café and into the night. As he strolled down the street, then crossed over, the cold bit hard, snapping at his skin like it was trying to pull it off in little pieces.
The men were further down the alleyway, and they were still shouting. Ethan couldn’t make out any words, but they were definitely shouting at something. Or someone.
Over the road now, Ethan did a sweep of the alleyway, doing a walk past as though going somewhere else, glancing down to get a quick look. And what he saw confirmed his worst fears; Johnny was about to be on the wrong end of a serious kicking. The three men were towering over him as he lay in his sleeping bag, trying to get some shelter from the weather by squeezing in close under a skip filled with trash.
Ethan called it in. ‘Sam, he’s about to be beaten up.’
‘Positive?’
‘Totally,’ said Ethan. ‘Three pissheads and not a brain between the lot of them. Definitely pushing him for a fight. Any minute now they’re going to drag him to his feet and give him a serious hammering.’
‘You sure this isn’t what we’ve been waiting for; Johnny getting taken?’
‘They’re drunk, Sam,’ said Ethan. ‘No transport in sight. This is just three blokes cruising for a fight. Against three, Johnny doesn’t stand much of a chance, even with what Natalya’s taught him. He’ll be knackered, cold and not in any state to take care of himself and get the hell out.’
No word from Sam. Then, ‘OK. Get in there. Now, before it’s too late. But remember, see if you can sort it without resorting to violence first.’
Ethan gritted his teeth and turned back. A shout echoed through the alley as cats scooted out as if their tails were on fire. Ethan saw one of the three men reach down and drag Johnny up from where he’d been lying. Johnny was playing it calm, being non-compliant, as grey as he could be. Then the one holding him grabbed him round the neck as another went in with a kick to his stomach.
Before Ethan could even break into a sprint, Johnny was on the offensive. Blocking the kick, he pushed back against the man who had him round the neck. Ethan saw Johnny’s hand shoot up into the man’s face three times, slamming his jaw shut to smash his teeth, then breaking his nose. In the confusion, Johnny twisted himself out of the arm round his neck and wrenched it hard, bringing his free arm down with such violence that Ethan knew the man’s arm was broken. Before the other two could react, Johnny threw the now almost-unconscious man who’d attacked him at his two mates. He stumbled and fell at their feet. Then Johnny turned and legged it, speeding out of the alleyway and not even seeing Ethan.
With a last look down the alleyway to make sure the three blokes weren’t about to go on the hunt for the homeless guy who’d just taken the fight to them, Ethan turned and followed after Johnny. He made damned sure it didn’t look like he was trying to catch him up.
Eventually, just ahead, Ethan saw Johnny nip into a shuttered shop entrance, graffiti all over the door and walls.
Ethan didn’t stop. Instead he did a walk past and called in to Sam. ‘I was right,’ he said. ‘They were cruising for a fight.’
‘Johnny OK?’
‘Yes,’ Ethan replied. ‘Gave them the shock of their life thanks to that Krav Maga stuff, then bolted.’
‘Where are they now?’
‘Nowhere in sight,’ said Ethan, turning and walking back past Johnny, trying to make it look like he was phoning for a taxi and walking to keep warm. But on his second pass, he noticed something. Johnny was crouched down, holding his arm awkwardly, clearly in pain. ‘Sam? I think Johnny’s bust his arm.’
‘Broken?’
‘Can’t say,’ said Ethan. ‘Couldn’t see exactly. But he’s definitely in pain. He needs immediate extraction.’
Sam was quiet, then he came back with, ‘Right, this is how we’ll do it. If I come to you, our cover’s totalled. So make it look like you’ve noticed Johnny’s hurt and you’ve gone to help him.’
‘Then what?’
‘Walk him out of there and get him to Yellow Four. I’ll be outside the closed-down bingo hall.’
‘OK,’ said Ethan, and Sam was gone.
Ethan turned to Johnny, conscious that he should look surprised and concerned, as though he was just being a good Samaritan.
‘Hey; you OK? What happened?’
‘Eth!’ Johnny hissed through clenched teeth, but Ethan cut him off with a shake of his head.
‘Stick with the cover,’ he whispered. ‘Remember we don’t know each other, right?’
Johnny nodded and cut the volume in his voice, making sure no one would be able to see him speaking to Ethan, ducking down further into the shadows. ‘Where did you come from? I didn’t see you.’
‘I was across the street,’ Ethan explained, seeing the pain clearly on John
ny’s face and checking him over. ‘I saw the blokes come at you.’
Johnny said, ‘They were pissed up. It wasn’t a snatch, I knew that straightaway. I tried to do the whole avoid-confrontation thing, go grey, but didn’t have much choice. My wrist’s shagged.’
‘Can you stand?’
‘I said it was my wrist, not my foot,’ said Johnny and got to his feet.
‘Well, lean on me anyway,’ said Ethan. ‘It’ll look good.’
Johnny did just that. Then Ethan led him to where Sam was waiting. But all the way there he had a bad feeling about this; with Johnny out of action, he was up next.
‘Sorry, mate,’ said Johnny, and Ethan could tell he was having trouble not laughing, ‘but we’ve not got time for you to get all ripe and stinking. So it’s my clothes and no alternative.’
It was early morning and everyone had managed to grab a bit of kip. Ethan was outside, breakfast eaten, and looking down at what Johnny had stripped out of when they’d got him back after his brawl in the alley. His friend’s wrist was now in bandages and a sling. It was only a sprain, but it still meant Johnny was out of action for a while until he could move it again. And he was showered, clean and wearing clothes that didn’t stink like a dead badger. That honour was about to pass to Ethan, who wasn’t exactly relishing the idea of being Johnny’s replacement.
‘How did you put up with smelling like that?’ Ethan asked, pushing at the pile of clothes with his foot.
‘You get used to it,’ said Johnny. ‘Don’t think of it as a smell, think of it as a process of maturation. Like cheese.’
‘Do I seriously have to put it all on now?’
Johnny shook his head. ‘You’re on the street tonight. You don’t need to put them on until you’re on the off.’
‘Lads!’
They turned to see Sam standing in the door to the house.
‘Burn everything but the jacket, the larger pair of trousers and the jumper, and get them up on a line or something to give them at least a bit of an airing. That lot will go over what you’re wearing today, OK, Ethan?’