Andy McNab - Meltdown

Teddy interrupted. He'd been desperately trying to think of anything that might stop Kubara, or even hold up his plan. 'But our security is here in Barcelona, with the coaches. There's no one in the UK to protect the process and-'

'Enough! No more excuses. I cannot afford a delay in supplies while you are organizing the new factory. We will let them know about transportation to Europe. Just get them making it. I want full production now.'

Teddy looked at his brother. Every order that Kubara gave them seemed one more step closer to their elimination. It was obvious that he was only going to keep them alive for as long as he needed them.

And Kubara's next words confirmed that every member of the operation was marked down for elimination once he had everything he wanted: 'You will give the names of the two chemists you use, and where they live.'

'Danny has! Danny has! That's the Merc now heading out of the city. Don't know the name of the road but heading west.'

Deveraux look down at the tracking monitor.

'We have you.'

Lee was still unconscious in his private hospital bed. His mouth was covered with an oxygen mask, a drip fed into his arm and there was a constant blip from the heart-monitor. There had been complications: the knife had sliced into one of his kidneys and the blood loss during the long wait for emergency treatment had been severe.

Phil stood looking down at him. He didn't know what to say. There were things he wanted to say, but emotions never came easily to him. Not that Lee would have heard a word he said.

So Phil talked about work. 'We'll find the DMP, mate – don't worry. We'll find it and get them all.'

He leaned down and whispered in Lee's ear, 'Albie's dead.' Phil smiled; he knew Lee would be pleased. 'Blew himself up on Melt.'

Phil's mobile started to vibrate in his jacket. He pulled it out and recognized the number; it was Predator operations.

Mr Monotone was back. 'He's on the move, heading north out of the city.'

'OK.'

Phil closed down the mobile and whispered to Lee, 'Gotta go, mate. The doctors say you're stable now. They reckon you'll be running about in a couple of months. See you soon.' Back in his car Phil hit the radio pressel. He spoke urgently; this was the first time that Freddie had driven out of Greater Manchester.

'That's Phil mobile. Where is he?'

The operator still spoke in the same flat voice, sounding about as exciting as the speaking clock.

'Still heading north on the A56, towards Prestwick and the M60.' In the Mini, Freddie saw the sign for the M60; it was ten miles away. He was driving a lot faster than usual. He'd been seriously spooked by the call he'd taken from Teddy. He'd sounded strange. More than strange; scared. And the orders he gave were like no others before.

Freddie didn't like it, working together with the other scientist and in the same place as last time. It was all wrong; they never operated that way. He hadn't even met the other guy. But he couldn't refuse. If he didn't turn up, someone would come looking for him; the threat was always there. He couldn't run. Not this time.

Earlier in the day Freddie had seen the story in the newspaper about Meltdown. Maybe the twins had seen it too, and were panicking almost as much as he was. He didn't care about riots on the streets, or terrorists, or anything else. This had to be the last one; he'd get himself a little bonus by slipping a few packs of Meltdown into his pockets. Then he was out of there, a long way away.

He pushed his foot down on the accelerator, his greed a lot stronger than his common sense, which was telling him to turn the car round and drive in the other direction. Mr Monotone came back on the net to Phil, who was now clear of the city.

'Target is at the motorway now… Wait… Wait… He's not taking it. That's the target still heading north on the A56 towards Bury.'

Phil hit the pressel.

'Roger that'

The Predator circled high above the target, cutting through the night sky.

Forty thousand feet below, Phil followed the A56 as the operator came back with another fix on their target.

'That's through Whitfield, still towards Bury.'

Phil remained calm and professional, but with a growing feeling of optimism. This had to be the break they'd been waiting for. Maybe at last he'd have some good news to report to Fergus before the night was out.

As Phil reached Whitfield, Mr Monotone came back on the net.

'He's turning right… right. Off the A56, just halfway from the motorway to Bury. Wait…'

Phil slowed down in case he passed the turning Freddie had taken.

'The target has gone into the old airfield on the other side of Hollins village. It's now an industrial estate. He's going into one of the hangars. Wait… now unsighted.'

Phil had clocked the sign giving notice of Hollins village.

'Which hangar? Which hangar?'

He was shouting as he turned right off the A56 for Hollins.

Mr Monotone remained calm.

'Do you have NVGs?'

'Of course I've got them!'

'OK, I'll splash the hangar for you. Splashing now!'

Hollins village had come and gone and Phil followed the signs for the industrial estate. The high wire fence was still there, and so were the gates – though they were permanently open these days, one of them hanging off a single hinge at a strange angle. Phil pulled his car off the road just before the gates and turned off the lights.

He got out, went to the boot and pulled his NVGs from the ready bag. Even before he put them on he could see the semicircular outlines of the old hangars as well as the other buildings. He put on the ski-goggle-style NVGs. Instead of clear plastic in the lenses there was black glass. They made Phil look like a giant wasp.

Fitting the goggles over his face, he switched them on and heard the gentle hum of the power pack sparking up. Soon the world turned a hazy green colour and Phil saw a beam of bright white light burning its way down from the night clouds and spreading out over one of the hangars on the far side of the old runway. Like a jet of water hitting concrete, the laser beam broke up and splashed outwards from the top of the hangar.

Phil got back into the car, still with the goggles on.

'Got it. You can turn off the laser.'

Within a couple of seconds, the beam disappeared back up into the clouds. Headlights still off, Phil drove towards the gates. He also hit the cut-out switch beneath the dashboard so that there would be no brake or reversing lights to give him away.

He drove into the airfield, using the NVGs and keeping to his side of the runway, well away from the target hangar – he didn't want to be pinged by anyone on stag outside. He parked up behind a brick building, took off the goggles and picked up his MP5 from under the rubber mat in the passenger's footwell before getting out of the car.

He checked that his Sig was firmly in its holster and started towards the hangar. Then he stopped. The hangar doors were opening, and Phil heard the sound of a heavy engine. He looked back towards the gates and saw a huge truck approaching.

The 4x4 screamed out of the city towards the airport to meet up with their transport.

Fergus glanced at Deveraux, who was sitting in front of him, as his mobile rang again.

It was Phil. When he spoke, his voice was calm but Fergus could plainly hear the contained excitement.

'I think we're on to something. Could be a while, but stand by.'

'Keep me informed,' said Fergus. It was all he needed to say. Phil had only one objective: to locate and destroy the DMP; there was no need to waste time discussing the details.

Deveraux turned round to look at Fergus. 'Well?'

'Looks like we're making progress back in the UK.'