Authors: Andy McNab
Danny was on stag at the hotel, staying close to
the twins. They were taking a late breakfast with
Storm and some of their clients while Danny sat in
reception, casually leafing through a city guide but
keeping eyes on the entrance doors and the corridor
leading to the restaurant.
The twins had been buzzing with nervous energy
following the dinner with their contact the previous
evening. Will was clearly excited, but Teddy
was very twitchy and had insisted that Fergus or
Danny stay near them at all times. When Fergus got
the summons from Dudley, he had called Teddy
and told him he was going out to buy a ticket for
the match from a tout, so that he could be in the
stadium as backup if they needed him.
Reception was busy with late checkouts and
early arrivals, but nothing out of the ordinary.
Danny glanced towards the entrance doors and
saw his grandfather coming in.
Fergus went straight over to Danny. 'All right?'
Danny nodded towards the restaurant. 'They're
in there. Having brunch, as they call it.'
Fergus led Danny to a quiet corner where they
could talk without being overheard. He knew it
wasn't a good location for the conversation they
were about to have but he didn't have any
options. He didn't want Teddy emerging from the
restaurant and finding their security had gone
missing.
'What did Dudley want?' Danny asked his grandfather
as they sat down. 'Is there a problem?'
'You could call it that. It turns out that our operation
has come up against someone else's.'
'What – the Spanish Firm?'
'No, ours . . . You're not going to like it.' Fergus
paused.
'I
don't like it. It's shit.' He looked at
Danny. 'The other op is being run by Deveraux.
She's here.'
Danny stared at him, his eyes wide with horror.
'What . . . ?'
'She's after the twins' contact too – his name's
Kubara; no surprise – he's big time – terrorism, the
works.'
The shock on Danny's face was turning to rage
and his voice rose. 'Dudley lied to us again – he
promised—'
Fergus gestured to him to keep quiet. 'Dudley
didn't know anything about it until last night,'
he said softly, holding Danny's furious gaze.
'Deveraux's team was snapping pictures of Kubara
and the twins. When Deveraux saw me in the
pictures, she put two and two together. That's what
brought Dudley over. To sort out the turf war
between us and the Firm.'
Danny turned away and swore. Fergus waited,
watching Danny breathing deeply, trying to calm
himself. When he spoke, his voice was deep with
suppressed fury.
'So what now? Where do we go?'
Fergus shook his head. 'We don't. We stay. We see
the operation through.'
'So she goes?'
'No. It's now a combined operation. Me in
command.'
'What!' hissed Danny loudly. 'You're expecting
me to work with the person who killed Elena in
cold blood. And you've agreed to go along with this
without asking me—'
Fergus could see that people in the lobby were
beginning to stare. He had to make Danny get a grip
and not compromise the situation.
'No, I haven't. I've told them that I've got to talk
to you before agreeing to anything. But I think
we should stick with it. Dudley seems to have
Deveraux under control—'
'Yeah, right!' sneered Danny.
'We'll have to watch her,' said Fergus quickly.
'But this mission's important, Danny. If Phil can
locate the DMP back in England, and we can sort
things here, we have a chance of stopping this. And
then we can get out. For good. Don't you want to
see it through?'
Danny turned away again and stared out at the
busy street. 'Not with her. I can't.' He looked at his
grandfather with disgust. 'And how can you?'
Fergus sighed. 'It's a job, Danny. If that Meltdown
crap gets out . . . ' He started again. 'One last op and
then we're out. Danny, you know the only way to
handle this sort of shit is just to do it. Focus. And
leave the feelings out of it.'
Feelings, Danny thought. His grandfather had
always been a cool operator, detached, ruthless.
That was how he'd survived. He'd seen terrible
things, he'd seen friends die but he'd always
managed to move on. He'd concentrated on just
two things: the ongoing mission and staying alive.
Like now.
'Yeah, well, I'm not you.'
There was a tense moment before Fergus replied.
He looked towards the restaurant and saw a couple
of the twins' clients coming down the corridor.
Brunch was obviously over and the twins would be
out soon. Time was up.
'No, you're not.' Fergus had had enough. 'OK,
Danny, you're out of this. Dudley wanted you in
because we're short-handed and there's no time to
get backup. He's seen what you can do and he's
impressed. But if you can't handle it, you're no
good to anyone.' He got up to leave.
'Wait!' said Danny quickly. He took a deep breath.
'I'll do it.'
'What?' said Fergus.
'I'll do it. Not for you, not for Dudley. For Elena.'
Fergus was not impressed. 'For Elena? This isn't
another revenge thing, is it? I'm not taking you if
that's what you think!'
'No! I'll do it because I think . . . I know . . . it's
what Elena would have wanted. She wouldn't have
backed out and neither will I.'
Fergus looked hard into Danny's eyes and said
nothing for a moment. Then he nodded. 'OK. You're
in.' The tension between them eased. 'Just don't get
big-headed about the fact that Dudley wanted you.'
Danny nodded and smiled. 'So what next?'
'We're assuming Kubara wants the formula for
Meltdown, which means he's planning to take over
from the twins. He won't make his move at the football
tonight, not in a stadium full of people. It'll
probably be after the game.'
Danny thought for a moment. 'What about the
twins? Do they suspect any of this?'
Fergus shook his head. 'Will seems to think
Kubara's their kind Uncle Enver, but Teddy's
worried about the meeting tonight. I'm going
to reassure him. We want to make sure they turn up
for the match.'
'So what do I do?' asked Danny.
'Keep an eye on Kubara's car outside the stadium,'
said Fergus. 'Don't let it out of your sight. I'll be out
in the crowd. Dudley's contacts are fixing surveillance
in Kubara's box right now; we'll all have a link
to a transmitter so we can hear what's going on.'
'Sounds sorted,' said Danny.
'As much as it can be. But remember, Deveraux's
gone along with all this, but she wasn't happy.
Whatever happens tonight, she'll still have her own
agenda.'
The twins had ordered a cab to take them to the
stadium. While they waited for it, Fergus sat with
them in the hotel bar, giving them last-minute
instructions and doing his best to keep Teddy's
spirits up. He asked for the new numbers of their
phones and programmed them into his own mobile.
'Keep yours switched on all the time,' he told
them. 'If there's any sign of trouble, all you need to
do is signal by hitting my number on your speed
dial. I'll get you out.'
'I'm not expecting trouble,' said Will confidently.
He sneered at his brother. 'I don't know what's got
into you, Teddy. Our contact's a businessman. He
knows a good deal when he sees it. All he wants to
do is make it even better. He said as much last
night.'
Teddy didn't look convinced, so Fergus came up
with a few more reassuring words. 'You run away
and what does that say to your guy? And what will
it mean for the business? See him; talk. You brought
me along to sort things out if they get ugly. I'm here.
It'll be fine.'
Teddy nodded. 'I'm sure you're right. It's just that
after Siddie—'
'Siddie was a small-time hood. From what I've
seen, I'm guessing this bloke's in a different league.
You're making him a lot of money; make him some
more. And yourselves.'
Will was up for it. 'You were worried about the
business coming to an end,' he said to his brother.
'You were wrong; I think this is just the beginning.
A whole new beginning.'
The Nou Camp in Barcelona is the third biggest
football stadium on the planet. One hundred
thousand people can be seated on the three banks of
terracing that climb into the sky.
In the luxury executive box, Kubara was glued to
the match. He watched as Ronaldinho gathered
in a pass from Deco. He dribbled the ball past one
defender, and then another, before chipping in a
teasing cross, which the opposition goalkeeper just
managed to gather. The crowd groaned as one. 'That
Ronaldinho, he is the maestro, eh?' said Kubara,
smiling at the twins.
He turned to watch the replay of the action on the
television monitor at the back of the box, unaware
of the tiny transmitter that was hidden there, picking
up every word he said, recording his every
movement.
Teddy and Will didn't know one player from
another – they barely knew which team was which
– but they smiled and nodded and tried to appear
interested, glancing nervously at Kubara's bodyguard,
big and totally bald, who was standing at
the back of the box. He was paying little attention
to the football – that wasn't what he was paid for.
His eyes were fixed on his boss and his guests.
As the opposition goalkeeper booted the ball
upfield, Kubara got up and went over to revisit
the impressive buffet. He filled his plate once
again.
The twins sipped at glasses of mineral water and
glanced at each other, surreptitiously looking at
their watches. They were desperate to know what
Kubara had to say to them.
So was Fergus: he was surrounded by Catalans
munching on enormous hot meat sandwiches from
the takeaway stands. If he had stood up and looked
back, he would have been able to see right into the
box, but his eyes stayed on the game. He knew
exactly what was being said in the box, courtesy of
the earpiece he was wearing, which was routed into
the surveillance system. It looked just like a
Bluetooth mobile phone earpiece so no one would
have thought anything of it – least of all the excited
Catalans, who were totally engrossed in the match.
Danny was sitting in his hired Corsa outside the
stadium, listening to what was going on in his own
earpiece and keeping a trigger on Kubara's black
Merc. The driver was watching the match on the
vehicle's TV.
Marcie Deveraux was sitting in front of a monitor
with two of her team, watching and listening in an
office close to the stadium.
Everyone was waiting to hear what Kubara was
planning.
Fergus was giving a good impression of watching
the game intently as Barça put together a neat series
of passes. Suddenly, from way outside the box,
Ronaldinho fired in a thunderous shot, which sailed
past the goalkeeper's hands into the top corner of
the net.
Fergus's eardrums were almost shattered as
Kubara screamed his delight. On the monitor
Deveraux saw him leap out of his chair as he yelled
and punched the air.
Danny heard it too, and got his own view of a
victory punch as the Merc driver's arm pumped
upwards through the open car window.
Danny sighed. 'Barcelona must have scored. Big
deal.'
He was no football fan, and neither was Fergus,
who was surrounded by yelling, shouting, screaming
Catalans, dancing and jigging in delight. The
man on Fergus's right turned and grabbed his
shoulders, beaming through tobacco-stained teeth
as he hugged him like he was a long-lost brother.
Soon after the crowd had finally settled down, the
referee's whistle sounded to bring an end to the first
forty-five minutes and the applause rang around
the stadium.
In the executive box Kubara was still eating,
apparently in no hurry to get down to business. He
looked over at the twins, a frown on his face. 'You
should eat something – you need to keep your
strength up,' he told them.
'We're not really hungry,' said Teddy.
'We ate earlier,' added Will.
The big man laughed. 'I too ate earlier.' He patted
his stomach. 'But there is always room for a little
more.'
Teddy wanted to get on with it. 'You said you
needed to talk to us . . .'
Kubara continued chewing for a moment and
then swallowed. 'Talk? I said we'd talk? . . . I don't
remember. When did I say this?'
'At the restaurant,' blurted out Teddy. 'You said
we'd talk at half time.'
The Bosnian put his head on one side and gazed
blankly through the plate-glass window at the
front of the box, as though trying to recall
the conversation they had shared the previous
evening.
'Oh, yes,' he said at last. 'My plans.' He shrugged.
'Well, it can wait. I'm enjoying the football. Don't
you think Barcelona are the best team in the world
– such skill . . . ? We will wait till after the match.'
In the nearby office, Deveraux glanced at one
of her operators. 'Clever bastard,' she breathed,
recognizing the tactics. 'He's just twisting the knife.'
It was too much for Teddy. He stood up. 'No!
Please – surely you can tell us now! We have a right
to know what you're planning.'
'Teddy!'
said Will, getting to his feet and taking his
brother's arm. 'Don't let's rush Mr Kubara. We
don't want to spoil his enjoyment of the match.'
Kubara smiled at Teddy and put one huge hand
on his shoulder.
'No, you are right, my friend,' he said, pushing
Teddy firmly back down onto his chair. 'You
do
have
a right to know about my plans, so I shall tell
you . . .'
He reached into an inside pocket of his leather
jacket and pulled out a thin, solid silver toothpick.
Carefully he slipped it into his mouth and freed
something jammed between two of his back
teeth.
Teddy and Will watched as he licked his lips and
winked at them before putting the toothpick back in
his pocket.
'The reason for our meeting . . . ' he said, his face
still friendly and open. 'Well, it is very simple. I am
taking over the business.'
Teddy's mouth gaped open. He was speechless.
'No,' said Will firmly. 'I'm afraid you've got it
wrong, Mr Kubara. We're not interested in selling
out.'
Kubara's mocking laugh was deep with menace.
'You people – even kids like you – you still
think you rule the world. You still think we are
scared of you. But you are nothing. You are not
selling
to me. I am
taking
the business. You have no
strength; you are weak. From now on, you will
work for me.'
Teddy's mouth was still gaping, but Will was redfaced
with anger. 'How dare you! You can't just
order us around, tell us what to do. We're . . . we're
British subjects. We won't work for you!'
Kubara took a step closer to Will; he was so close
that Will was forced to stagger back down into his
chair.
'Oh, but you will . . . Will.' Kubara laughed at his
own joke. He nodded slowly. 'You, I have just a little
respect for. At least you try to fight. It's useless, but
you try.' He looked at Teddy and sneered with
distaste. 'Him? He is . . . nothing.'
He turned back to Will. 'You are both coming with
me, to my new factory. It is in . . . ' He paused and
smiled again. 'It is far away. There, you will work
for me, preparing the laboratory and eventually
producing Meltdown. You will show my people
the formula and the manufacturing process. In the
meantime, production will continue in England,
until we have no further need of England—'
He broke off as his eyes were drawn once again to
Teddy, who was surreptitiously reaching for something
in his jacket pocket.
Kubara smiled. 'Trying to call your security,
Teddy?' The smile vanished. 'Give me your phones,
both of you. Now.'
Teddy looked at Will in dismay.
'You can't do that!' shouted Will.
'Don't make me have to ask our friend behind
you to take them from you by force.'
Slowly, reluctantly, the twins handed over their
phones. Kubara tucked them into his jacket pocket
and then went back to his food.
When the match restarted, Barcelona again had
most of the play, and after a few minutes of sustained
pressure, their Portuguese midfielder, Deco,
was brought down in the box.
'Penalty!' screamed Kubara – along with every
Catalan in the Nou Camp.
The referee agreed. Deco put the ball on the spot
and stroked it casually into the net. The stadium
erupted: two-nil.
Kubara broke off his celebrations and seemed
to be lost in thought for a few moments. Then he
gestured to his bodyguard, who pulled out a mobile
and speed-dialled a number.
Outside, Danny saw the Merc driver answer the
call.
'Stand by! Stand by! That's the Merc driver on a mobile.
Wait . . . That's jacket on.'
In the executive box, the bodyguard nodded to
Kubara that everything was ready.
He turned to the twins and smiled. 'Don't look so
worried, boys,' he said. 'I will look after you.'
Without warning, his smile disappeared and his
voice took on a new menace. 'If you refuse, or try to
resist in any way, I will kill one of you tonight.' He
shrugged. 'It doesn't matter which one. You are
both the same to me.'