Andy McNab - Meltdown

Phil was considering giving the rear door a second go, taking a chance on slipping past the dogs without setting them off again. Then he saw a chink of light as one of the two front doors slid open a little. The two guys disappeared through the gap and the door was pushed shut again.

The waiting was almost over, but Phil gave it another ten minutes before slowly working his way out behind his car until he was far enough away from the target to cross the open expanse of the runway.

He sprinted over and took cover behind the fence protecting rows of rental vans and lorries. Slowly he edged his way towards the target, avoiding making any noise at all for fear of sparking up the dogs again.

He reached the hangar, knowing that his only option was to peer through the small gap where the massive sliding doors met at ground level. He got down and pushed an eye up against the gap – and saw all that he needed to see.

The Mini was parked near the doors, but what Phil saw at the rear of the hangar was far more interesting. The two trucks were backed against each other with their sides down. They were full of machinery, and in each truck a figure in a white coat was moving up and down, checking and testing. Phil didn't know exactly what he was looking at but it didn't matter. It was all clear enough – Freddie was in one of the trucks, walking around like some absent-minded professor.

The boys were in there making Meltdown.

'Clever,' breathed Phil. 'Very, very clever.'

'I want to speak to the Prime Minister. Now.'

Dudley wasn't messing around. He needed to take action and he needed to take it fast, and that meant getting the go-ahead for a second time from the Prime Minister himself.

The PM was actually in New York for a conference on global warming. Now that Dudley knew the location of the DMP, he planned to do a little global warming of his own, in a very specific area north of Manchester.

A voice came back on the telephone. 'Connecting you to the PM now, sir.'

Three seconds later, a much more familiar voice came on the line. 'Yes, Dudley.'

They didn't waste time with 'good evening's or 'how are you's. Swiftly Dudley explained the situation and made his request.

The Prime Minister's official work for the day was over, but he wasn't sitting back taking it easy. And he wasn't alone. There were private secretaries and advisers listening in through a speaker to what Dudley had to say.

Only when Dudley had given all the details and made his request for permission to 'Go' did the PM speak again. 'One moment, please?'

The line went dead. Dudley knew that the PM was discussing the operation. His advisers wouldn't be happy about using special forces on UK soil again. The old airstrip was closer to the third party than the abandoned warehouse in Glasgow. If the news leaked out, the media would have a field day, particularly if the operation went wrong. The PM could even be accused of turning the UK into a military state.

But he knew the risks. 'Dudley?'

'Yes, Prime Minister?'

'You are one hundred per cent certain you have found the DMP?'

Dudley had never lied to a PM, and he wasn't going to start now. That was why he was always trusted. 'Prime Minister, I would not ask you for permission to mount such a high-risk operation if I did not firmly believe the situation warranted it.'

He waited again, and after less than a minute the PM came back on the line. 'As before, this must be a covert operation, with a complete cover story. There will of course be no mention of either the security services or the SAS.'

'We have two alternative cover stories fully prepared, sir. Which one we use will be decided upon following the action.'

There was another moment's hesitation, and then: 'Very well. Good luck.'

Nothing more needed to be said. It was on. Phil kept a trigger on the hangar from his own vehicle, while he liaised with the team commanders back in Hereford. He gave them the precise location and full details of the target. They needed all the information he could give them: what type of doors did the hangar have? What was the best approach route? Were there any third party about?

Soon after that, the commanders had their own pictures of what the circling. Predator could see, and they watched on monitors and finalized their plan.

It was to be a smash-and-bang job, in and out in fifteen minutes. The heli would land a little way away from the target so that it wasn't heard – either by those in the hangar or by the third party.

The assault team would then tab the 1K to the airfield and wait for the order to hit the target. Everyone inside the hangar had to be killed and everything inside it had to be destroyed. Then it would be back to the waiting heli for the return to 'H', and never a word said about the job.

Phil would inform the team if there were any changes as they closed in on foot.

The flight was going to take little more than an hour, but the actual attack might have to wait longer. Dudley was still insisting on every aspect of the operation being carried out at the same moment, unless circumstances changed.

It would be difficult, but not impossible, and it still depended on exactly where Enver Kubara was taking the twins.

The Sikorsky was over Germany, heading north. It was flying lower now, almost hugging the ground.

Less than twenty minutes behind it, the Cougar pilot was doing the same thing, flying tactically low to avoid being picked up by radar.

The pilot's voice came over the intercom. 'As far I can see, from now on it's only farmland or forest all the way to Russia. I think we could be landing very soon – there's nowhere to refuel for miles. If they go further east, they'll run out.'

Fergus looked towards Danny, Deveraux and her team, wanting to be sure that everyone had heard and was fully prepared.

The thrill of a first helicopter flight had long since worn off for Danny. His head was aching from the constant exposure to the aviation fuel fumes, and like everyone else in the Cougar, he just wanted to get on with it.

He was thinking about Storm, back in Barcelona, wondering if he would ever see her again. She would have discovered hours earlier that he and Fergus and the twins had disappeared. Maybe she was worried; maybe she had tried to contact him. But Danny was glad that Storm was still in Spain. He didn't want her anywhere near the firing when it started.

Fergus and Deveraux were talking directly to Dudley and had been given the news about the DMP and the SAS CT team.

Phil's phone was on conference call. He had instant communication with Dudley, Fergus, Deveraux and the CT team commander. Even Mr Monotone, still controlling the Predator as it circled above Manchester, had been patched into the system. All the main players involved in Dudley's complex plan would know what was happening at the airfield as soon as he spoke. Ahead of the Cougar, in the Sikorsky, the interior lights were dimmed and both Teddy and Will had finally slipped into a fretful sleep. Storm was dozing too, while Kubara was using a batteryoperated razor to remove the stubble that had sprouted on his face.

He looked up as one of the crew approached him. They exchanged a few words before the crewman returned to the cockpit, then Kubara gestured to his bodyguard.

While the bodyguard went back towards the rear of the aircraft and opened a locker, his boss stood up and made his way over to the twins.

He reached down, laid his huge hands on their shoulders and shook them gently. They woke instantly, and looked up apprehensively at the Bosnian's freshly shaven face.

'We are almost there,' he said, smiling reassuringly. 'Time to get ready'

The bodyguard came lumbering up the aircraft, carrying several pairs of brand new Wellington boots. Two pairs were green.