Andy McNab: Payback

Fincham was only to use the pistol if Deveraux got into trouble. They couldn’t be certain that Watts was unarmed, and although Deveraux was good, like all good operators she knew her limitations.

Fincham had insisted on only one thing: the attack had to be hard and fast. He was the boss, and this time Deveraux made no complaint. She had planned another covert approach to get inside the unit unheard, but she quickly reasoned that a speedy shock hit might even be preferable. Fincham didn’t have her skills; with a covert approach he could give them away. So hard and fast it would be. It didn’t matter to Deveraux; the results would be the same: they were all going to die.

As they neared the service road, her boss was thinking exactly the same thing: they were all going to die. Once Deveraux had taken care of Watts and the kids, it would be her turn – a double tap to the head. If any nearby workers were alerted by the two shots then so be it. He would be away in seconds, heading for Heathrow and that eight-thirty flight to Moscow. There would be just time to change back into his disguise and redo his false beard and make-up.

They reached the service road and Deveraux glanced at her boss. ‘Are you ready, sir?’

‘Oh, yes, Marcie. Quite ready.’

Deveraux hit the gas and the engine screamed at full revs as they headed for the entrance to the square.

She dropped to second gear as she took the right turn. Her foot was still hard down as they hurtled towards the unit, which was to their right. Her left hand gripped the handbrake. She calmly gave Fincham the warning, ‘Stand by,’ and he opened his door and held it open.

Deveraux yanked the wheel in a complete circle to the right, pulled up on the handbrake, took her foot off the gas and hit the brakes. The car spun around as the handbrake turn pointed the car back towards the entrance.

Fincham jumped out and ran towards the unit’s shutter door. Deveraux leaped from the vehicle and ran around the front, pulling out her SD’s collapsible stock and putting it to her shoulder as Fincham pushed open the door.

Both eyes open, safety catch off, trigger finger taking the slack first pressure so that she could fire more quickly, Deveraux ran into the building.

The surprise attack was working. Elena had been on stag. Despite her protests that she wouldn’t sleep, she was desperately tired after the efforts and stress of the night, and soon after the others drifted off she too was dozing.

She woke as the car screeched to a halt. She was certain Joey had returned; probably in trouble as usual, but at least he was back. She jumped up and ran to the window as Fergus and Danny stirred. But it was already too late. Their attackers were in the building.

‘It’s not my dad!’ screamed Elena. ‘It’s not him!’

Deveraux was at the foot of the stairs, weapon pointing up at the floor above. Fincham was close behind, and as she got her first sight of the upper level, the spill from the external security lighting revealed exactly what she was hoping to see. ‘Stand still! Don’t move!’

Fergus had pulled himself to his feet and was standing by the sofa and one of the old freezers they had carried upstairs for protection from the PAD. His arms were outstretched to show that he was no threat. Deveraux quickly spotted the bloodstained leg and then her eyes flicked to Danny and Elena standing by the wall to her right. She moved up into the room. ‘Against the walls! Move! Sit down against the walls!’

Danny and Elena slid quickly down the wall as Fergus took two hobbling backward steps and painfully lowered himself to the ground. He was sitting on something, and as Deveraux turned momentarily to see Fincham warily appear at the top of the stairs, Fergus reached down and his hand closed around the electrician’s screwdriver. It had fallen to the floor as he stood up.

‘Get on with it, Marcie!’ shouted Fincham. ‘Kill them! Kill them!’ He glared at Fergus. ‘Kill them!’

Fincham could wait no longer; he began to raise his pistol. But then Deveraux quickly spun back to him with her weapon still at her shoulder. ‘You’re first – you have a weapon.’

Fincham’s face registered one moment of horror and disbelief as he leaped back. Deveraux squeezed second pressure and the dull thuds of a double tap sounded as Fincham was hit in the body and sent crashing down the stairs.

The assassin swivelled her weapon back to Fergus. ‘Now you.’

‘Wait!’ shouted Fergus. ‘We have the Secret Ultra document! We know your real plan! We have Secret Ultra!’

Deveraux released first pressure. ‘Impossible!’

‘It’s not impossible, we’ve got it!’

She hesitated, trying to work out the implications of Fergus’s words. It was a bluff; it had to be a bluff.

‘The document you wrote about Fincham and me, Marcie, I saw your signature. And we’ve burned CDs of it! And they’re safe!’

The CDs were far from safe. They were in Fergus’s pocket; he was just trying to buy time.

As the seconds passed, Danny saw a tiny red flashing light coming from his grandfather’s left hand. It was close to the floor, unseen by Deveraux, who was standing to Fergus’s right. It was a message; Danny knew his grandfather was sending him a message. He concentrated hard as the light continued to flash and Fergus attempted to bargain for their lives.

‘They’re in a safe place. If I don’t report in tomorrow, they go to the press. You, Marcie, exposed as a murderer.’

He kept on completing the circuit on the screwdriver, praying that Danny would understand what the flashes meant.

– .-. – - -…-..-.

As soon as Deveraux had ordered Fergus to sit by the wall, he had made his decision. He was less than a metre from the power socket and plug for the PAD. He was going to try to detonate the device, but he had to get Danny and Elena to move first. If they could reach the protection of the sofa and the two freezers, they might survive the fearsome explosion.

He too would have a chance of survival: the old cooker and another freezer were between him and the back of the PAD. But he didn’t care about himself now. He’d been close to death many times. It could have happened in Northern Ireland, or Colombia, or five or six other places. If it were to happen now, then so be it. All that mattered was that he saved Danny and Elena.

‘Are you really gonna take the chance that I’m bluffing, Marcie? Are you?’

Deveraux had thought it through. Watts was bluffing: he could not have accessed the secret file, even if he knew of the existence of SECRET: ULTRA. ‘Good try, Watts, but a lot of effort for one more minute of life.’

She took first pressure, but before she could fire the shutter downstairs rattled. She heard footsteps. Fincham – alive, and trying to escape. ‘Shit!’

Deveraux moved back to the stairs and ran down to the bottom. She heard the vehicle start up. A problem, but she would get Fincham later. It was time to finish Watts and the kids. The car’s engine roared and the tyres screeched.

Fergus knew that this was his moment. He screamed one word: ‘Now!’ and dived for the plug. As he pushed it into the socket, Danny grabbed Elena, pulled her to the sofa and threw himself over her body.

There was no time to look back. Fergus turned on the power and the world became a blinding flash of white.

They were in a room with high, frosted glass windows. Wire ran through the toughened glass. They had no idea where they were, although the occasional sound of jet engines suggested a military base of some description.

Neither of them remembered much about the explosion. The flash of brilliant light, a shock wave of incredible heat, the first thump of deafening noise. And then nothing. Not even the pain. The pain had come later, after they had woken up.