Read Online Brute Force by Andy McNab - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Andy McNab
Tags: Fiction, Spy/Action/Adventure
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would have to start all over again . . .
After fifty minutes I turned off the main road and onto a narrow lane. The track that led to Duff's house was a mile and a half further north.
Maybe my enemy was inside the Firm. Maybe the bomb-maker hadn't been shown how to use pigtails in one of the Middle Eastern camps before coming home to put it into practice; maybe he was one of the original trainers now working for the Firm?
The Firm had the motive. Sundance and Trainers were small fry, low life like me. No one would be pissed off about them becoming history. But the Yes Man?
I came to the track leading to Duff's cottage, and carried straight on. Parked right across the gate was a white Ford with the word Garda emblazoned in black across the fluorescent yellow flash along its side. The two officers inside watched me intently. I was probably the first sign of life they'd seen all shift.
I'd have to carry on north. I couldn't turn round and come back past them again. They'd probably already logged my number.
I pushed the Merc another three or four miles before I finally hit the junction I wanted. I turned right and had gone no more than half a mile when my mobile rang. It was Dom.
'Nick, I've just received a really weird message from the station . . . A man called, fifties maybe. English. He said—'
'Don't say it. Have you got to where I thought you were going?'
'Yes.'
'I'm on my way.'
27
The first time I'd gone to Dom's house, the cab driver told me that on the Dublin Monopoly board, the streets in his area were the purple squares. As soon as we'd got there, I could see why. These were big, fuck-off, four-storey houses set back from the road. They had huge rectangular windows, so the grand could look out on the less fortunate. Raised stone staircases led one floor up to very solid and highly glossed front doors.
It was just coming to first light as I drove down the road. I wasn't going to try and hide the car or be covert. What was the point?
Lights were still on in several of the houses and curtains were open to display the gilded furniture and big chandeliers to best effect.
I was still trying to work out what to say to Tallulah and Ruby. I'd keep up the dud boiler story until it went to rat shit.
I drove past 6 Series BMWs and shiny 4x4s. The last time I'd walked past so many brand-new cars I'd been in a Middle East showroom. This place was knee-deep in euros.
The hall light of No. 88 shone through a glass panel over a wide, shiny wooden door. I couldn't see any light or movement through the front windows or upstairs. I guessed they'd all be in the kitchen area at the back.
I parked right outside the house. I wanted to be able to keep an eyeball on Mr Avis's forty grand's worth.
A car went past. Its last three digits weren't any of the combinations I'd memorized. I got out and went and knocked on the heavy iron lion's head on the front door.
The voice that answered a few seconds later was female and Irish. 'That you, Nick?'
'Yup. Failed Boiler Maintenance Man of the Year.'
It wasn't just the housing jackpot Platinum Bollocks had hit. Siobhan looked stunning even in jeans, trainers and a black sweatshirt.
She stepped aside. 'Come on in.'
I crossed the threshold and started wiping my shoes on a big square of matting until I noticed Tallulah's and Ruby's shoes lined up next to a pair of men's trainers. The highly polished black and white chequered tiles looked clean enough to do surgery on. This was a no-shoes zone.
'Dom explained about the boiler. I'm so sorry. It's never happened before.'
'He should try paying the bill. It works for me.'
She was already walking down the chandeliered hall. 'Tea or coffee?'
'Coffee – strong. I might be back on the road.'
'Stay here, there's—'
'Hot water?' I laughed a bit too long.
Subject dropped. Mission accomplished.
We passed the open door to a reception room and finally arrived in the kitchen.
It was a large knock-through that took up the whole of the rear of the building. I was in a
After fifty minutes I turned off the main road and onto a narrow lane. The track that led to Duff's house was a mile and a half further north.
Maybe my enemy was inside the Firm. Maybe the bomb-maker hadn't been shown how to use pigtails in one of the Middle Eastern camps before coming home to put it into practice; maybe he was one of the original trainers now working for the Firm?
The Firm had the motive. Sundance and Trainers were small fry, low life like me. No one would be pissed off about them becoming history. But the Yes Man?
I came to the track leading to Duff's cottage, and carried straight on. Parked right across the gate was a white Ford with the word Garda emblazoned in black across the fluorescent yellow flash along its side. The two officers inside watched me intently. I was probably the first sign of life they'd seen all shift.
I'd have to carry on north. I couldn't turn round and come back past them again. They'd probably already logged my number.
I pushed the Merc another three or four miles before I finally hit the junction I wanted. I turned right and had gone no more than half a mile when my mobile rang. It was Dom.
'Nick, I've just received a really weird message from the station . . . A man called, fifties maybe. English. He said—'
'Don't say it. Have you got to where I thought you were going?'
'Yes.'
'I'm on my way.'
27
The first time I'd gone to Dom's house, the cab driver told me that on the Dublin Monopoly board, the streets in his area were the purple squares. As soon as we'd got there, I could see why. These were big, fuck-off, four-storey houses set back from the road. They had huge rectangular windows, so the grand could look out on the less fortunate. Raised stone staircases led one floor up to very solid and highly glossed front doors.
It was just coming to first light as I drove down the road. I wasn't going to try and hide the car or be covert. What was the point?
Lights were still on in several of the houses and curtains were open to display the gilded furniture and big chandeliers to best effect.
I was still trying to work out what to say to Tallulah and Ruby. I'd keep up the dud boiler story until it went to rat shit.
I drove past 6 Series BMWs and shiny 4x4s. The last time I'd walked past so many brand-new cars I'd been in a Middle East showroom. This place was knee-deep in euros.
The hall light of No. 88 shone through a glass panel over a wide, shiny wooden door. I couldn't see any light or movement through the front windows or upstairs. I guessed they'd all be in the kitchen area at the back.
I parked right outside the house. I wanted to be able to keep an eyeball on Mr Avis's forty grand's worth.
A car went past. Its last three digits weren't any of the combinations I'd memorized. I got out and went and knocked on the heavy iron lion's head on the front door.
The voice that answered a few seconds later was female and Irish. 'That you, Nick?'
'Yup. Failed Boiler Maintenance Man of the Year.'
It wasn't just the housing jackpot Platinum Bollocks had hit. Siobhan looked stunning even in jeans, trainers and a black sweatshirt.
She stepped aside. 'Come on in.'
I crossed the threshold and started wiping my shoes on a big square of matting until I noticed Tallulah's and Ruby's shoes lined up next to a pair of men's trainers. The highly polished black and white chequered tiles looked clean enough to do surgery on. This was a no-shoes zone.
'Dom explained about the boiler. I'm so sorry. It's never happened before.'
'He should try paying the bill. It works for me.'
She was already walking down the chandeliered hall. 'Tea or coffee?'
'Coffee – strong. I might be back on the road.'
'Stay here, there's—'
'Hot water?' I laughed a bit too long.
Subject dropped. Mission accomplished.
We passed the open door to a reception room and finally arrived in the kitchen.
It was a large knock-through that took up the whole of the rear of the building. I was in a
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