Andy McNab - Zero hour

I checked the fuse leading from the petrol bomb to make sure it was within easy reach of the kicker charge, and that it didn't touch the fuel at any point. That was why the kicker had to be higher – so the fuse flowed easily into the picric.

I picked up the Bergen and moved away from the two devices. The TV news was still blaring away. They'd have something right on their doorstep to talk about in a couple of hours.

I took out the mosque alarm and the bulb, lifted the batteries out of the back of the clock and reinserted them the right way round.

I unwrapped the gaffer tape protecting the bulb and gave it a quick test. Perfect. I closed it down before the filament got hot. I set the alarm for two hours. That would be enough for me to get back and shower all this shit off me before I went anywhere near the airport.

I moved back to the device and gently pushed the bulb into the open propellant bag of the kicker charge. I bit away the free end of the fuse and shoved that alongside. I made sure both were sunk deep into the propellant before sealing them in place. I wrapped some more tape around both the wire and the fuse and made sure it was all nice and tight.

The timer gave a gentle green glow as I started scooping flour on top of the kicker charge. The clock would spark up the bulb. That, in turn, would set off the propellant in the bag, and at the same time ignite the fuse. The fuse would start burning towards the firebomb. The propellant inside the kicker charge would generate a fuck of a lot of heat. The picric acid would explode. And since it was against the wall, the force of it would push up, down and forwards into the building.

The pressure wave would force out the flour in a fine mist at supersonic speed. There'd be a massive amount of pressure, because this place was so enclosed. There were no windows, and the building itself was sealed. The pressure wave would have nowhere to exit. So as it bounced and rattled around the building, it would take the cloud of flour and dust with it. The cloud would fill the building.

All the while, the fuse to the kicker charge would be burning down to the propellant inside the main charge. It would also explode, and detonate that lot of picric, creating another massive pressure wave. That was why there had to be an air gap between the fuel and the explosive. You need to give the wave a little time before it hits the fuel. If it's physically touching, it can sometimes just explode and kick out fluid at supersonic speed instead of flame.

What I wanted was flame. It would ignite all the particles of flour, and that would create even more pressure. The wave would burst its way round the entire building in a couple of seconds.

Flynn and Bitch Tits looked like they were going to explode all by themselves.

I finished burying the kicker charge and laid the Bergen next to the fuel but kept the remaining gaffer tape in my hand. I'd almost done it. The last bit was the hardest of all, and that was the wait. But it had benefits, I supposed. Flynn and Bitch Tits also had to wait.

They'd gone noisy again. I wasn't sure if they were begging, trying to cut a deal, or just giving me their final thoughts on my mother's sexual history.

I knelt down beside them and rolled all the remaining gaffer tape around both sets of legs.

I fished around in Flynn's smart leather coat for the main door keys. Flynn fixed his eyes on mine. He knew what I was thinking and accepted he was going to die. Bitch Tits wasn't following his dad's example. He continued to flap. That was good for me.

I turned and went out, leaving the door to the hallway wide open.

She was standing in the far corner of the empty office, her back firmly against the wall. If she could have burrowed her way into it, she would have done.

'Come on, hurry!'

She didn't budge.

I ran across the room. Her arms came up to protect herself.

'For fuck's sake, calm down. I'm not here to hurt you.'

She wasn't responding.

I touched her on the shoulder as gently as I could. She recoiled like I'd hit her with a Taser. I lowered my voice, kept it as calm as possible. 'Listen, Lily. I'm here to help you. But you must help me, OK?'

I took her arm and headed for the main door.

'Mister – my friends…?'

I turned to see her pointing at the only remaining closed door.

'Mister…?'

I opened the front door just enough to check outside, then closed it again.

I turned to face her. 'Listen in. You tell them that they are going to be free, OK?'

She nodded, concentrating hard to make sure she understood every single word.

'Tell them that I will show them a way out. And they must not come back here. Do you understand?' You didn't need even two brain cells to know that this was the last place on earth they should be, but the big wide world might have seemed an even more frightening prospect.

'Yes – but where do they go?'

'They are in Amsterdam. I will show them, once we get out of here.'

She wasn't with me.

'Fuck it, just get in there and tell them to follow me.'

I opened the cell door and almost threw her back in. 'For fuck's sake, hurry up.'

They gathered by the main entrance.

I moved outside and held them there while I locked up. I still had Flynn's fob. But I wasn't touching the car. We couldn't all fit inside, and it was another bit of kit to connect me with the job. I didn't want any last-minute complications. We were all better off on foot.

I turned right, and switched into Pied Piper mode. I started across the wasteground towards the rat run. I had to stop every now and then to give the girls time to catch up. Their bare feet weren't making life any easier. I took them around the edge of the crater so they didn't fall foul of the junkie pick-up sticks.

About ten minutes later I shepherded them, one by one, through the gap in the railing. I held them on the other side until everyone was through, then headed along the fence line. I passed the ferry point and followed the road towards the canal, throwing both sets of keys into the bay to join the Passat.

I pointed in the direction of the lights across the water. 'Amsterdam.'

Lily passed on the message and there was a murmur of understanding, dread and excitement.

jog, pulling Lily behind me. The rest followed like a gaggle of refugees.

There was no time to talk – no reason to either. When the silo exploded, they'd throw up cordons. I needed to be away from here and on my way to Russia. That was the only thing on my mind now. I brushed my clothes as I went. The Doughboy look was not what I was aiming for.

I slowed to a walk as we approached the bridge. I gathered up the girls and told them to be quiet. Lily translated.

We were soon in the land of the white prefabs. The girls were out of breath. Lily pulled at my arm. 'Please, slower…'

I gripped her hand and pulled a little harder. We had to make distance.

The housing estate was alive. TV screens glowed behind net curtains. Kids played football under street-lamps. All the shops were open, their bright lights flooding the pavements.

I was gagging for water but it was going to have to wait. I checked my watch. Thirty minutes had gone. I had to get a move on here. With luck I could have the wheels turning by about 22.15. The device would kick off just after 22.30. By then we'd be on the A10 to Schiphol.

I stopped short of the roundabout and waited for my ragtag band to join me. We got stares from passing drivers, but I was past caring. There were more important things to think about.

I pointed down the road towards the taxi rank. 'Lily, tell the girls to cross the road and keep walking. Tell them to go to the Islamic cultural centre, the mosque – you get that?'