Crossfire by Andy McNab Read Free Book Online Page A

Reunited, see if you can hunt
down the old diving team?'

10
    The tank park
2340 hrs
    'Where the fuck is Peter with those drinks?'
    It was the first time I'd heard Dom swear.
Things obviously weren't too hunky-dory on
Planet Platinum Bollocks. He'd come back
fuming from his session at the FCO building.
Pete and I had tried to draw him out, but he
stayed tight-lipped.
    It was H-hour minus twenty, and we were
choking on the exhaust from B Company's nine
Bulldogs. Their back doors were open. In the dull
red glow from the interiors I could see a mass of
last-minute checks going on. I watched Terry as
he tugged his chest harness over his Osprey body
armour and positioned the pouches to make sure
his mags, frag and smoke grenades were secure.
Once he was sorted, he couldn't resist having
another quick squeeze of a zit.
    All I had to check was the field dressing in the
left map pocket of my cargos, same place everyone
kept one. That way we knew where to grab it
if someone took a hit and started leaking.
    The ear pad of my PRR crackled as guys blew
into their mikes to test their radios were working
and on the right channel.
    Dom turned to me. The guys were around us
so he kept his voice low. 'They are so young.'
    I pointed to Terry, now pulling on his gloves –
maybe to stop himself attacking his face. 'That
little fucker there's first through the door
tonight.'
    Dom moved a few steps to check he really was
seeing teenage spots on the man leading the
attack.
    'That's how it is.' I shrugged. 'They're infantry,
they're all young fuckers.'
    Dom was still brooding as Terry clambered
into the back of his Bulldog. Maybe he was thinking
how lucky that stepson of his was in
comparison. I guessed he'd be tucked away in a
nice warm university bed right now, probably
not his own. Good for him. I always wished I'd
had the chance of college instead of running
round like Terry, with a tin hat on, getting shot at.
    Pete returned with three white cups and
caught the fag end of the conversation. 'That kid
who's first through the door tonight is only
nineteen.'
    I took my brew but Dom shook his head.
    'Take it, you'll like this one. I got us some real
coffee. I told 'em vampires can't drink tea, it kills
them. Go on, it'll calm you down. You shouldn't
go chasing after those fuckers. It winds you up
too much.'
    I took a sip of the strong, milky brew as Dave
came on the PRR. 'All call signs. Ten minutes.'
    Around us, working parts were cocked.
    ''Ere, Drac, you get any one of those spooks to
interview yet? We got a busy day tomorrow?'
    Dom's mobile rang before he got the chance to
answer. 'Baz! You sure?' He jammed a finger in
his other ear and shouted: 'Is that better? I said,
are you sure it's him? That's great news. When
did you find out?'
    He closed down and put the phone back in his
pocket. He looked at Pete. 'I've got a lead.'
    'Want me to come with you?'
    'No, I'll go first thing – should only be a few
days. Just get lots of footage. You know, the boys
emailing home, that sort of thing. Bread-and-butter
stuff. Cover for me with Moira. You know
how much she hates me doing my stuff on her
dime.'
    Pete was frowning. 'What are you—'
    There was an explosion two hundred away,
followed closely by another.
    'Take cover!'
    As if anyone needed telling. Cups dropped to
the tarmac as we legged it into our Bulldog.
    Pete grabbed my arm. 'Something's wrong,
Nick. This is about more than an interview.'
    'Personal?'
    'Very.'
    Dave was already on the net. 'Soon as all call
signs are complete, we're mobile.'
    Thirty seconds later, the company rolled out of
the tank park in their nine wagons, just as
another Katyusha piled into the compound. The
explosion sounded much closer this time. Yet
another whooshed over the open mortar hatches,
its rocket even louder than the wagon's engines
and tracks.
    The Bulldog was essentially the old APC
(armoured personnel carrier) that had been
rumbling over the Westphalian plains of
Germany for thirty or forty years as part of