Andy McNab - Crossfire

I thought about the weapons upstairs, and what they might have done over the years. They were so ancient the wood furniture had been rubbed bare. They were more than old enough to have killed those lads, and now they were going to be killing some UDA, and hopefully even a Brit. About time too. He needed culling.

Vehicle lights splashed across the road. The Seat cruised past from right to left. Both faces peered into the house.

I let them go and kept perfectly still. 'Stand by, mate, they're here.'

'How many?'

'Just the two of them. But they'll be carrying. They're not going to come in empty-handed. Don't fuck about – give them the good news as soon as I shout, OK?'

I stood up and flicked on the socket switch.

They wouldn't just smash their way in, run upstairs and hope to grab us before we knew what was happening. That left only the doors or windows, at the front or back – and even if they had only two brain cells between them, they'd work out that the back was the better option.

The locks on the downstairs toilet window were still undone – I'd made sure of that – and I'd slid open the catch to make it even easier for them. I wanted them to come in together. We needed to zap them both at the same time. Letting either of them do a runner to fuck up the whole plan was not an option.

Another five minutes crawled by. Mr Black walked past the house from left to right, checking everything out. He had a small day sack on his back. Fuck me, was there a third method of entry? Was he going to blow his way in?

He disappeared down the road. Mr Green would surely be working his way round the back, checking the walls to make sure the one they jumped over really was at the back of the correct house.

Mr Black came back the other way, towards the Seat. I waited for him to get out of sight.

'Won't be long now, mate.'

We moved into the kitchen. Dom flicked on the power to his taser.

I grabbed the stick with my free hand and put my mouth to his ear. 'With me, with me…' We moved slowly back to the island and lowered ourselves behind it.

There was a scraping noise at the window below us.

'When I move, you move. Straight in there before he knows what's happening. And once he's down, give him one for luck.'

Low murmurs drifted up from the garden. The toilet window was given a short, sharp push. They knew it was open now. They'd take their time, ease it up slowly.

I gripped the taser pole in my right hand. The forks would be clearly visible above the island, but by the time they'd spotted it, it would already be too late.

I heard feet touching the floor and the toilet-door hinge squeak. There was a rustle of nylon. I put my hand on Dom's shoulder to stop him jumping the gun.

I heard a low whisper, then the first creak on the stair.

I leant round the side of the island. Light glowed dimly in the stairwell.

Mr Green's head appeared above floor level. He paused and started climbing again, very slowly. Mr Black was right behind him.

I kept a hand on Dom until Mr Green had reached the top step and Mr Black was in view from the waist up.

'Go! Go! Go!' I yelled at the top of my voice, and lunged the four paces to the banister. I was aiming for Mr Black, to make sure their escape route was blocked. Dom had to take his chances with Mr Green.

Both tried their best to react, but Mr Black was too slow. I jabbed the taser forks into his shoulder like I was spear-fishing. He didn't even gasp, just fell forward on to the stairs.

Dom and Mr Green were getting up close and personal. There were a lot of grunts and shouts, and the stools beside the island toppled and fell.

I plunged the forks at the end of my broomstick into my target's back and left them there.

Dom's taser was on the floor, inches away from where they grappled. Dom was on top. I grabbed the broom handle as Mr Green arched his back and tried to head-butt him.

I kicked out at Dom. 'Get off him! Get the fuck off!' But Dom was in his own world. He threw a punch at the guy's head. He was well fired up. This guy was about to pay big-time for what Sundance and Trainers had done to Pete.

Fuck it. I touched Dom's back with the forks and he jolted sideways. I pulled him away with one hand and gave the boy on the ground a two-second burst with the other.

'Close the curtains, mate, get the lights on. Go on, go! Go!'

Dom stumbled to his feet.

Mr Green gave an agonized groan. This place smelt like someone had burnt the Sunday roast.

'And turn the power off on mine. I'll use yours to deal with this fucker. Just pull out the plug before we have any more drama, but leave the taser where it is.'

I stood over the guy in the green bomber, ready to give him an extra zap.

Dom tried to orient himself, but he was staggering like a drunk.

'Cancel that, mate – just grab the torch and search this fucker.'

He finally got the message and did as he was told.

I watched as he turned out Mr Green's pockets. He had a mobile phone and a.38 snub-nosed revolver. There was no need to worry about Mr Black suddenly pulling a weapon. He was toast.

Another minute or so and we had the curtains closed, the lights back on. I gave Mr Green a kick in the ribs. 'Sit up!'

He didn't budge. I didn't blame him. In his position, I wouldn't have cooperated either.

I brushed his leg with the forks. His whole body jolted. He dragged himself on to his arse with his hands behind him. He was bowed, but not beaten. He could smell Mr Black; we all could. 'Fuck it. Get on with it then, boy – fry me.'

I looked at Dom. 'Ask him. Ask him what you need to know.'

'Where is Finbar?' He stooped to Mr Green's level. 'Where is my stepson?'

'Fuck you.'

I touched the forks to his shoulder. He saw them coming and tried to duck, but he went down hard. I gave him a good three seconds and he screamed.

He rolled on to his hands and knees and crawled towards the living room. Dom and I followed him across the floor. 'Fucking switch on, mate. We can do what we want with you here, so what are you holding out for? You'll fucking die – you really going to leave the Brit sitting pretty while you take the punishment? Where is Finbar? And where's the Brit?'

I brushed the back of his calf with the forks and he swivelled like a break-dancer. 'Come on, we can do this all night. Dom here's paid his electric bill. It ain't going to be cut off.'

I sparked up his mobile, a cheap old red and grey thing. He had no call history, no address book. Whoever he needed to call, or whoever was going to call him, they knew each other's numbers.

I gave his arse a jab this time. His body hit the floor like it was trying to melt into it. His breaths came fast and short.

'OK, here's the deal. You tell me who you were going to call once you'd lifted us, and I'll go easy with the cutlery. Let's start from there, yeah?'

His right cheek was pressed to the floor. I brought the forks down level with his left eye.

'What about a jab to the frontal lobe? A couple of seconds of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest treatment. You'd end up barking at the moon every Tuesday. Come on, you're not fucking helping yourself. Where is the boy?'

He closed his eye. 'They'd fucking kill me.'

I touched the forks quickly to his skull and he half gurgled, half screamed. I gave him a Timberland in the ribs for good measure. 'Shut the fuck up. That's not what I want to hear.'

Dom grabbed my arm. 'Nick…'

If he was suddenly trying to play the good guy, fuck him. This was the only way we'd get results this side of lunch-time.

'No, mate. If he doesn't tell us, he's going to die.'

Mr Green opened his eye again to see the forks just inches away. 'All right, then, just tell us who you were going to phone. Who were you going to contact to say you'd got us?'