Meltdown (18 page)

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 precisely 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.

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!'

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.