Chapter 4

I cupped some water in my hand and sipped on it, my mouth was dry. I heard Guns talking into his earpiece as he reported empty room after empty room. I thought about the many times Guns, and I had done this. The times we had sneaked into houses and taken out the occupants. We had done it in countries all over the world and we worked well as a team.

In the sandpit too many times to count. In Cuba twice. In Bolivia, and in Manchester three times, I think. Once in Belfast, which had been a night and a half. We had found a terrorist that the secret service thought was in the USA and there he was sipping whisky and chatting about the times he had bombed the British mainland. He was now buried, with two of his mates, under a new dual carriageway that headed down to Dublin.

I sipped some more tap water...

I checked my weapon and then headed out onto the hallway. At the time I heard breaking glass from downstairs and then the ratter tat tat of a sub-machine gun. Guns was coming under fire. My heart told me I should go and support him, but my head told me I had a job to do and that he was well trained and could deal with whatever was thrown at him.

I had two more bedrooms to clean out plus a storage cupboard.

The door of one of the bedrooms further down the hallway swung open and three men came running out. One was shirtless the others were in their boxer shorts. One man had a small revolver in his hand. I knelt, aimed, and fired. The gunman was my first target. My first round hit his right shoulder. My second round hit his chest and the third round hit him in the forehead.

One of the others tried to grab the gun from his fallen mate. I shot him twice, once in the chest and once in the head. The third guy tried to duck back into the bedroom. I managed hit him in the arm with one of the two shots I popped at him.

“Two Tangoes down the upstairs hallway,” I said into the throat mic

“Copy that twenty-seven tangoes down,” the voice in the control room said.

I heard more shots from downstairs, I did not hear Guns firing but he had the same suppressor on his Glock as me and his shots would be masked. The fact the submachine gun was firing told me Guns was still alive.

“One tango dead, Downstairs hallway “Guns said into the mic

“Copy that twenty-eight tangoes down,” the voice in the control room said.

I changed the magazine in my Glock and headed toward the bedroom door. I glanced in. The man had a girl in a head lock with his right arm and a knife waving around in his left. she looked like a rag doll in his arm. She was another one that had been drugged and had not a clue what was happening. Blood was oozing out of the wound on his arm. The fact he was bleeding heavily and was waving the knife around was good for me and the girl.

But for the terrorist, it was a huge mistake. I stepped into the room my gun in two hands and held it in what is known as the Weaver stance. There are quite a few stances when using a pistol. Each has its pros and cons, and every shooter has their own preference, I preferred the weaver stance The shooter blades his body, placing the foot on the firing side back and turning the support side towards the target. On the shooter’s strong, or firing side, the arm is extended, and the support arm’s elbow is bent. This allows the shooter to employ a very stable push-pull grip. The shooter pushes with his firing arm and pulls with the support arm to stabilize the weapon. It works for me...

“Three tangoes down in the Gym” I heard Guns say.

“Copy that thirty-one tangoes down,” the voice in the control room replied.

More shots rang out downstairs. This time it sounded like a revolver. The guy looked at the floor and then at me.

“Come any closer and the girl dies,” the man said, he was sweating, and his eyes were wild. His voice had a thick accent that I could not place. The girl was now covered in his blood. His eyed swivels from left to right and right to left constantly, he was on some sort of drugs that was for sure.

“Put the girl down and you can walk out of here,” I said at the same time I knew I had to get this over and done with, if there were any more of the men in the last bedroom, they could be behind me very quickly.

“I know what you are, I know who you are, and I know what you do to guys like me,” the terrorist said and to be fair he was right. There was no way he was walking out of here. He would leave the room in a body bag like the rest of his mates.

I held my breath, and waited, the man turned to face the window. Was he thinking of jumping I wondered? He made a move, released the girl, and stepped away from her. Duff Duff ... two head shots and one dead tango. The girl dropped to the floor. I took a deep breath and went to the door.

A glance told me no one else was in the hallway. I stepped back into the room. I kicked the knife under the bed and then checked out the girl. She was drugged but she seemed fine, I pulled the duvet off the bed and covered her

“One tango down, one girl live in the bedroom...” I started to say when a movement caught my eye The door swung open and a man with a machete came running in. I raised my arm and shot him twice in the face. another man was behind him. He had a large hunting knife, I hit him twice in the chest. He hit the deck. I went over and shot him twice in the head.

“Correction two Tangoes down, one girl live in the bedroom seven...”

“Copy that thirty-three tangoes down,” the voice in the control room replied.

There was still the odd shot coming from downstairs. I stepped into the last bedroom, it seemed empty. I checked the obvious hiding places and there was no one in the room.

“Bedroom eight clear,” I said into my mic.

“Copy that” as the reply.

The next and last room was the storage cupboard. I opened the door slightly, readied my weapon and swung the door open with my foot.

The room was empty ... I took the time to change my magazine.

“Storage room upper hallway clear,” I said, and the reply came back within seconds

“Copy that” was the reply.

Another shot rang out downstairs...

Again, I was eager to get down there to help out my mate. But I knew I had to clear my floor. I revisited each room to make sure that there was no one skulking around and to make sure that all the tangoes I had dropped were definitely dead.

I thought about the shots and wondered if the neighbours were close enough to hear them and would they have called the cops. It was a neighbourhood with large gardens, so we had to hope the noise was not carrying from house to house.

I checked each room, and they were all as I had left them, the dead guys were still dead and the girls were all alive but out of the game, the drugs the Taliban had given them had them out for the count like zombies.

“Top floor clear,” I said into the throat microphone

“Top floor clear, copy that, “the controller said.

“Rosie, I need some support in the games room” I hear

“Copy that Guns, on my way!” I said and headed down the stairs, back against the wall as I went. My eyes scanned the doors that led onto the lower hallway.

“I have three guys pinned down in the games room, I am at the sitting room doorway, can you make your way to the kitchen doorway Rosie?” Guns said.

“Copy that” I replied.

I tip-toed my way along the hallway. I glanced into each door as I went and saw the results of Guns handy work.

There was a left-hand corridor and as I glanced up it, I saw Guns aiming into the games room. I headed down into the kitchen, more dead terrorists were strewn across the floor.

I crept across the floor until I could glance into the games room. I could see that there were two men hunkered down. They had pulled an old-school games machine over onto its side. it was the sort you saw in pubs back in the day. It was a good hiding space.

I could not see the third man. I knelt, held my breath, and aimed. I squeezed the trigger gently Duff Duff. The first man slumped over, the other man looked to his left and two shots hit his back and a third hit his head.

A movement to the right made me look around, it was the third man. He stood and fired an old-school automatic pistol at me. I had already ducked back around the doorway. Two rounds hit the wall just above my head. Plaster fell over me...