Andy McNab - Meltdown

The gang boss had listened in silence as Frankie told him in detail about Teddy and Will Headingham, and when he'd finished, Siddie shook his head in disgust. 'Who'd have thought, eh? These privileged kids, they've got everything. Expensive education, university, the lot. And what do they do with it?'

He reached into a drawer of the desk and pulled out a wad of notes held together by a thick elastic band. 'They turn to crime, that's what they do. It's not right. Just shows you the way the world is going, eh, Frankie. It's definitely not right.'

Fergus didn't count the cash that Siddie handed over to him. He knew there was no need.

They walked back to the front door and Siddie held out his hand; this time, when they shook, Siddie didn't let go at once.

'I'm sure you've heard about the way I do business,' he said quietly, staring into Fergus's eyes. This looks like a very lucrative deal for us both. But' – he let the 'but' linger menacingly before continuing – 'if this is a scam, or if you're trying to have me over in any way, then I'll come looking for you, Frankie, or whatever your name is, because frankly, Frankie, I don't give a shit. And when I find you – and I will – then it won't matter what your fucking name is. Because you'll be dead. Capisce?'

The clock on the dashboard of Lee's Mondeo flickered as it moved on yet another minute to 8.47 p.m.

Danny sat low in the passenger seat as he pushed forward the on/off switch on the side of the Taser stun gun in his jacket pocket. A Taser would jolt 100,000 watts into a body when jammed against it, and that was enough to instantly drop a small horse.

Danny had got used to handling various longs and shorts during his training, but the Taser felt heavy and unfamiliar in his hand.

Drizzle had been falling for the past hour, dampening the road surfaces and the parked vehicles so that they gleamed in the streetlights. It was a light but constant rain, enough to keep most pedestrians off the streets.

Danny sighed. 'I think she fancies me.'

'Who?

'Storm, the blonde bombshell.'

Lee raised his eyebrows as he thought back to the surveillance photographs he had taken of Storm at the beginning of the operation. He was the one who had come up with the nickname of the 'blonde bombshell'. It fitted her perfectly.

'And what makes you think that?' said Lee, looking at Danny.

'I dunno. The way she looks at me. And smiles.'

'Yeah, I can imagine. But don't get too carried away – you've got a job to do, Danny boy.'

'I know, and I am. I'm just getting to know her, like my granddad said.'

'Listen, Danny,' said Lee, more seriously. 'A word of advice…'

'Yeah, I know: never mix business with pleasure. And I'm not going to.'

'Good to hear it,' said Lee. 'Start messing with women when you're on a job and it can mess with your head. Women are clever, you know.'

Danny laughed. 'Oh, so you're the expert on women, are you?'

'Not me, mate. You should talk to Phil – he's been married three times.'

'Yeah?'

Lee nodded. 'Mind you, the last one walked out on him a few years ago, so he obviously hasn't got the hang of it yet, either.'

'How d'you know all this?'

'I've spent a lot of time with Phil since you got your cushy office job. You get to chat up the girlfriend, sit in a warm office shuffling the occasional bit of paper, drinking poncy coffee four times a day and we do the routine surveillance stuff. How fair is that?'

Danny smiled. He was glad to be back at work with Lee. But tonight wasn't routine. Tonight they expected Mr Siddie Richards to pay a visit to the Headingham residence.

It was a Wednesday, and Wednesday night was one of the few occasions when the Headingham twins were regularly apart. They took it in turns to visit their widowed mother. When they were not off on one of their foreign trips, she liked to see them separately, on alternate weeks, so that she could devote herself to one of her beloved sons on his own.

Fergus had tipped off Siddie about the weekly outings and he reckoned that the gang leader would pick that Wednesday to make the home-alone twin an offer he dare not refuse.

Lee peered out through the blurry windscreen, then glanced over at Danny. 'So what you gonna do when this is over?'

Danny shrugged. 'Dunno. Haven't thought about it much.'

'You could come in with us, you know, the Security Service. I might even give you a reference. Or maybe you'd prefer to go over to the dark side and do all that army SAS stuff like Phil and your granddad.'

Danny looked at Lee: he had asked him about his life at MI5, and while Lee hadn't told him much, he got the impression that he loved the work. He started to reply, then glanced up at the street ahead and suddenly broke off to hit the pressel on the Mondeo's gear stick.

'Stand by! Stand by! That's a grey Jaguar, four up, approaching apartment building. Fergus acknowledge.'

Fergus's voice came back immediately.

'Roger, that.'

'Phil acknowledge.'

Phil was just as quick with his response.

'Roger, that.'

The Jaguar slid to a standstill at the kerbside just past the building as Danny and Lee sank lower into their seats.

Lee was impressed. 'Well done, mate. I'll give you that reference.'

Danny didn't even have time to nod his thanks.

'That's the vehicle static outside the building. Wait… wait… engine still on, lights on… wait…'

For a couple of minutes the Jaguar driver kept the engine running.

'No change… wait…'

Then two doors opened, one front and one rear.

'Stand by, stand by. That's two possible x-rays out of the car. One fat, one just massive. Both black leather on jeans. No sign of x-ray one. Both foxtrot towards apartment building. Engine and lights still on.'

Danny swore silently. He knew that his grandfather needed Siddie Richards himself in the apartment. But he also knew that Fergus wouldn't panic. Fergus never panicked. He improvised.

Danny went back on the net.

That's two possibles complete in apartment building. What we doing?'

A moment later Fergus's orders came through:

'Phil, move in closer to Jag. Lee and Danny, stay where you are. Listen in for more instructions once I find out what's happening. That's me foxtrot to service entrance at back of building.'

Teddy Headingham hardly knew what hit him. One minute he was enjoying the light supper of scrambled eggs and smoked salmon he had prepared for himself; the next he heard a thunderous crashing from the hallway as the locked front door of the apartment crashed open and then two of the most terrifying men he had ever seen came hurtling towards him.

There was no time to move, grab his mobile, shout, or even use the knife and fork in his hands as some sort of defence against the attack. He just sat, frozen, as the first man pulled back his right arm and smashed him in his handsome face, sending him crashing back off the chair and onto the carpeted floor.

Blood spurted from Teddy's busted nose as his uninvited guest straddled his chest and pinned him painfully to the carpet, stopping him from moving. Teddy wasn't thinking about moving anyway; he looked up as Mr Muscles glared into his eyes and breathed on him with foul-smelling tobacco- and booze-tainted breath.

'Don't move, don't shout, don't say a single fucking word till I tell you! You got that?'

Teddy just managed to give a terrified nod as he fought to stop himself choking on the blood that was oozing from his split lips into his throat.

The sheer weight of Mr Muscles' bulk was more than enough to make certain his victim didn't move an inch. But just to make sure he had his victim's total co-operation, Mr Muscles opened one of his huge fists and slapped Teddy so hard it made his head spin and his eyes water.