Siege

Seventy-nine

FROM HIS POSITION in the Meadow Room on the mezzanine floor, Fox saw them as they emerged one by one from the darkness under the arch, fanning out into the courtyard, their guns trained on the rear of the building as they checked the windows for any sign of ambush.

The enemy.

He slipped back out of sight, his AK-47 down by his side as he counted to twenty in his head, waiting for Bear to detonate the bomb. Willing him not to weaken.

Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen …

Even though he’d braced himself for the impact, Fox jumped when the bomb exploded, the force of the blast shaking the windows. But his reactions were still lightning fast. Taking advantage of the seconds of chaos and disorientation that always follow an explosion, he looked out of the window and opened fire on fully automatic into the thick cloud of rapidly rising smoke.

As the glass exploded, he leaned further forward, strafing the courtyard with bullets, not sure who he was hitting through the smoke, before he was forced to leap back out of sight to avoid a burst of returning fire from somewhere near the courtyard entrance. More of the window glass shattered, spraying shards into the room, but Fox was already rolling away and pulling a grenade from his belt. He yanked out the pin, counted to three and lobbed it out of the window, hearing it explode just as it hit the ground. At the same time, amid the wild ringing in his ears, he heard Bear’s AK-47 open up from the ground floor – a single long burst followed by the angry crackle of returning fire and the whump of a stun grenade.

Fox didn’t know if Bear was going to get out in one piece or not, but he knew that he couldn’t hang around where he was any more. Bullets were flying into the room. The SAS might have been badly surprised and taken casualties, but they were still professional enough to react to the attack, and they’d be concentrating at least part of their fire on him.

It was essential for Fox to keep the momentum of the ambush going. If the SAS thought they’d snuffed out the initial resistance they’d keep coming, and Fox couldn’t afford to have that. They needed to be made to retreat.

Jumping to his feet, he reloaded his AK with the spare magazine and went into the next-door function room, pulling a second grenade from his belt. He strode over to the window and, keeping out of sight, unleashed a burst of gunfire into the glass, before pulling the pin and flinging the grenade out through the hole he’d created.

As it exploded, he let loose another burst of fire through the window, unable to resist taking a quick look at the carnage he’d caused as the smoke cleared.

He stiffened, confused. Unable to believe what he was seeing. Because what he was seeing was nothing. Other than a few small fires and the remnants of the smoke, the courtyard was empty. There were no bodies at all.

The ambush had failed.