Hetman: Hard Kil (2 page)

Minutes later all three packages were back under the tarpaulin and looked as though they hadn’t been touched. Snow photographed the rest of the barn, and took a long shot of the tarpaulin to indicate its position before he depressed his pressel switch three times.

“Clear to exfil.” A voice answered.

Snow pressed once, one burst of static in return and retraced his steps out of the barn. Now he saw a dim light coming from deep within the house, seeping out from under a roller-blind in the kitchen.

Snow gripped his SIG and crossed the yard, watching the backdoor. He reached the shadows at the side of the house, paused to remove his balaclava and then vaulted again over the wall. Back in the lane he headed uphill towards the Q car. He felt exposed and imagined a giant neon bulls-eye on his back but nothing happened. The wind started to pick up and by the time he crested the hill a light rain had started to fall. He heard a whistle and looked right to see Paddy Fox step out of the trees at the side of the road.

“Piece of cake son, nae danger.”

Palace Barracks, Holywood, Northern Ireland.

The East Det briefing room consisted of several rows of chairs arranged in front of a whiteboard. Snow and Fox sat at the front, Gord and Napp, the two man team from the Sierra, were a row behind. Snow sipped his vending machine coffee; it was tepid and tasted vaguely of beef soup.

The room reminded him of a classroom, instead of a teacher however the group faced Mary O’Connor, an officer from the Det and an SAS Captain named Lancing. He was effectively their boss in country, but O’Connor had made it clear that whilst they worked for her secretive intelligence unit, she ran the show. O’Connor had been given the nickname ‘Maggie’ due to her lack of soft skills.

This morning however her iron mask had slipped to show red-ringed eyes and an ashen face. Sensing something was wrong the team was unusually quiet as they waited for her to speak.

“Our operation last night achieved its objective. We confirmed the existence of the weapons cache and that it consisted of two AK47 assault rifles and an amount of semtex. We believe all of this to be of Libyan origin.” She took a glass of water; it shook slightly in her hand as she drank from it. “However when the RUC moved in to search and make arrests, the cache had gone.”

“Wonderful.” Fox rolled his eyes.

“Paddy, not the time.” Lancing said in an even tone. “Please continue, Lieutenant.”

O’Connor cleared her throat. “The RUC were fired upon and when they returned fire one suspect was injured whilst two others got away. What was worse however was what they discovered in the barn.” She paused, drank again. “Under the tarpaulin, in place of the Kalashnikovs they found a body. He was one of our informers. His name was Sean Fannon. I was his handler. It was Fannon’s Intel that put the cache at the farmhouse. He was our highest placed asset in the South Armagh Brigade and our inside man in McCracken’s group.” O’Connor looked down and shakily refilled her cup.

There was a respectful silence which Lancing finally broke. “Fannon was one of the four inside the house along with McCracken, Grew and the injured suspect - Kelly Dermott.”

“The entire operation’s been compromised. We should have just ‘jarked’ the weapons, grabbed the PE and brought them in ourselves.” Gord stated in his ‘matter of fact’ Cornish accent.

“I agree.” Fox was blunt. “Is Dermott talking?”

O’Connor shook her head.

“Just give me five minutes alone with him.”

“Paddy!” Lancing snapped. “Not the way, besides he’s in surgery.”

Fox ignored Lancing’s tone. “How was Fannon blown? Where’s the leak?

“We don’t know if there is one.” O’Connor had regained her composure. “Any number of things could have happened. We do however have new COMINT from the South Det. A call made to a number they were monitoring confirms that McCracken’s group are going to use the weapons in an attempt to assassinate Liam Taylor.”

“Fantastic.” Napp closed his eyes and sighed.

“Who?” Snow was none the wiser.

“Taylor is a Loyalist campaigner. He’s dared the IRA to take him out to prove a point.”

“Thanks.” Snow nodded at the Lieutenant.

O’Connor continued. “Taylor is not aware of the ‘plot’ against him and we do not intend to tell him. Given Taylor’s position he would go public. We all know that the extra media coverage would swell the volunteer ranks on both sides.”

“We should be thinking of Taylor’s wife and kids and not the bloody media coverage.” Fox growled.

“If this operation fails, if the ceasefire fails then it’s everyone’s wives and kids that are put at risk Paddy.”

“Do we know when and where the cell is going to target Taylor?” Snow asked

“No. Dermott has given us nothing, but we know the attack is imminent. We need McCracken to make contact again. The number he called is one associated with Pat Dolan, the former Republican Sinn Féin councillor. Dolan is funding McCracken’s group from across the border.”

“This just gets better.” Napp’s sarcasm was not hidden. “Do we know Taylor’s plans?”

“We know that he’s meant to be giving a radio interview tomorrow sometime after six at his house.”

“Lovely.”

“An interview about what?” Gord questioned.

“We don’t know. To have asked the station would have alerted them that we were directly interested in Taylor.”

“So what’s the plan?” Snow didn’t want to waste any more time.

If O’Connor was relieved the grilling was over she didn’t show it. “Snow and Fox. You are to set up a covert OP on Taylor’s house. Gord and Napp you’ll be keeping watch over the approach road. Fannon knew that there were more members of this splinter group but not who or where they were. Our task is to wait, see who turns up and then make hard arrests. The RUC will take it from there.”

“Forget the RUC; we should just take them out. That’s what we’re here for isn’t it, to keep the ceasefire alive at any cost.”

O’Connor was shocked. “No Napp, the Det is not a ‘hit squad’. Sean...Fannon’s loss was very unfortunate but we must let the RUC run with this.”

“Run with it? What if the PROVOS ‘run off’ with the Kalashnikovs? What if they plant an IED?” Napp added.

Lancing raised his hands in a calming gesture. “There is nothing I want more than to see them stopped. I want them to pay for what happened to Fannon, but this is bigger than just one man - regardless of who he was. If the RUC arrests them we’ll find out who else is involved.”

Napp and Gord exchanged looks, they weren’t convinced. Fox simply glared at O’Connor whilst Snow drank his coffee.

“You move out at nightfall. Questions?” O’Connor asked.

“Have you finished?”

O’Connor took a deep breath. “Yes Paddy I have.”

“Good. Let’s grab some scoff.” Fox stood and opened the door.

The four troopers made for the canteen. Once their plates were piled high they sat at a table to one side. The other personnel knew who the SAS boys were and gave them a wide berth.

Snow looked across the table at Fox. “What have you got against her?”

“Who?”

“Mary O’Connor.”

“I just don’t like her, that’s all.” Fox took a gulp of his tea. “She’s too political. If I wanted to be a politician I’d wear a monkey suit with a large rosette.”

“What would it say, ‘best of breed’?” Napp asked with a mouth full of chips.

“Piss off.” Fox retorted.

“Was she close to Fannon?”

“She really ‘handled him’, if you get what I mean.” Gord raised his eyebrow suggestively.

“She’s a whore.” Fox abruptly stood and walked back to the counter.

Gord leant forward. “Ignore Paddy; he’s a bit sensitive, what with his own wife shagging someone else.”

“Ah.” Snow bit into his chicken.

“What was that, five years ago?” Gord asked.

“Seven.” Replied Napp.

“He holds grudges.” Gord stated.

“Memory like an Elephant.” Napp confirmed. “Matches his ears.”

When Fox returned Lancing was with him and addressed the team. “Fastball. I’ve just received a call. The South Det has intercepted Dolan speaking on the phone to one of his old ‘deputies’. The hit’s going down tonight.”

Keady, South Armagh, Northern Ireland

A heavy rain had started to fall as the Q car drove through Keady. Taylor’s house was a large, white, detached property just off of the Crossmore Road. This was the posh end of the village. Further substantial houses, all a respectable distance away from each other, dotted the otherwise open countryside.

Taylor’s house had belonged to his wife’s mother. She’d been a catholic and a highly regarded figure in the local community. As such although many in the village didn’t approve of his views, they tolerated Taylor’s presence. The IRA did not, but luckily for Taylor the South Armagh Brigade had had bigger fish to fry in the shape of the British army who still patrolled the area and manned a permanent checkpoint nearby.

Napp steered the car past the house and took a left up-hill. The interior light had been set to the ‘off position’. He flicked an extra added switch to disable the brake lights before pulling over at the side of the road. A casual observer would not notice that the car had stopped to allow the pair of Det operatives to alight and push their way through the hedgerow into the dark fields beyond.

Fox and Snow lay prone in the sticky earth and foliage at the edge of the field as the car pulled away. Their NVGs turned the night around them into a green alien world. They remained static until their hearing had acclimatised to the ambient sounds around them. Satisfied that they were alone they moved at a crouch, day sacks on their backs as the wind picked up and blew rain into their faces.

On cue they heard the distant thud of a pair of Chinooks on a flight path to the north. The helos had been scheduled as a classic diversion whilst the Det team were inserted.

Such was her anger at Fannon’s death that O’Connor had also requested and been approved top cover in the form of an Army Air Corp’s Gazelle from 'Bat Flight'. The helo carried video and Forward Looking Infrared (FLIR) surveillance cameras enabling it to follow suspects whilst staying out of sight and sound of anyone below. As yet the Bat had not picked up any movement from the opposition.

The OP was an empty house. It had been for sale for over a year after the death of its elderly owner, and provided an elevated view of Taylor’s property and the only access road to it. Napp was to loop around the hill and position his car out of sight but near the road before joining Gord, who was already cold and wet under a hedge on the other side of the field.

Fox went prone, Snow copied a millisecond later. Fox motioned for Snow to remain static whilst he crawled forward; he had seen something he wanted to check out. Snow felt the cold mud seeping down his collar and trickling into his mouth but he remained still.

Fox reappeared. He moved close to Snow and spoke into his ear. “Would you believe it, it was a bloody fox?”

Snow smiled and wished he hadn’t done as more mud entered his mouth.

“OK. It’s all clear. The house is just ahead and empty. Taylor’s place has lights on in the back bedroom.”

They moved off, quicker this time as the rain became even heavier. Cresting the hill the house loomed over them. They dashed towards it and pressed against an outer wall. Unheard and unseen by either man, the helo had made a pass over the house and detected no movement or heat signatures but the men on the ground were not going to rely on the FLIR cameras alone.

They un-holstered their SIGs, took up positions by the back door and then to compensate for the loss of ambient light inside the building, switched their NVGs to IR ‘torch mode’. Snow nodded and Fox burst inside. Holding his SIG two handed he moved to the right, ‘cutting the pie’ as Snow took the left.

“Clear.” Fox’s voice was low but not whispered.

They moved through the kitchen, its appliances removed and cupboards skeletal, to the hall. Empty. Doors led off to the lounge and dining room before the passage ended at the entrance hall, front-door and the stairs.

Methodically they crept into the lounge, again working different arcs to confirm it was clear. Once they had cleared the dining room they moved to the hall. Taking the stairs two at a time and sticking to the sides to avoid the betraying sounds of complaint from the floorboards, they advanced. This was potentially the most dangerous time.

Upstairs there were three bedrooms and one bathroom to clear. The master bedroom, where they would set up the OP, looked directly downhill and into Taylor’s house. Fox turned left and moved swiftly into the first bedroom, whilst Snow covered him from the landing. Clear again. They repeated this process with the bathroom and bedroom number three before both men entered the master bedroom…clear. Fox leant against the wall and sweating from concentration, let out a sigh of relief. Snow moved closer to the window and stood in the shadows, invisible to anyone outside.

“We’re on station.” Fox spoke into his throat mic.

“Have that.” Napp replied.

Snow removed a bottle of water from his webbing and sluiced out his mouth before spitting it on the floor.

“Were you raised in a stable?”

“No, a circus.” Snow drank some more

“Ah I see it now, your mother was the bearded lady?”

Despite himself Snow almost choked on his water.

“Seriously, we’re not meant to leave a trace.”

“Shit.” Snow realised his mistake.

Fox started to laugh quietly. “You think they’ll spot your spittle and not our big muddy footprints? I’m just jazzing you, you southern Jessie!”

Snow emptied his pack and set up the OP in silence.

Through IR scopes the pair now kept ‘eyes on’ the target as the minutes passed and stretched into an hour and then two. The rain outside strengthened, distant lightning flared and then a storm was upon Keady. The house seemed to shrink around them and shake as though it was shivering.

“Shite. If this weather keeps up Bat Flight will have to bail.” Fox growled.

Unseen in the darkness Snow agreed. “Then we’d better expect them to attack.”