Chapters (69)
- Cover
- Half Title
- By the Same Author
- Dedication
- Acknowledgements
- Prologue
- Part One
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Part Two
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Part Three
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Part Four
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Epilogue
Where both Miller and Ward had gone on to non-military careers, Abbott and Brace had stayed with the life. Abbott in security, plying his trade in the Middle East and then in Singapore. Prior to the trouble with Nathan, that was. While Brace had become a gun for hire, working wherever the money took him. Not always for the ‘right’ people, it had to be said. But then, that was the nature of the beast. ‘We’re going up against traffickers,’ Abbott told him. Brace had always nurtured a special disgust for them. One thing Abbott could count on was that.
The guys caught up. Abbott offering a truncated, condensed version of his life since they last saw one another. He accepted their condolences over the death of Nathan, just about managing to keep his emotions under control.
‘A little birdie told me that you were drinking,’ said Brace. ‘I mean, you always liked a pint. We all did. But . . .’ His eyes went to Miller and Ward, who were both watching Abbott’s response carefully. Brace wore a pained expression, as though he was worried he might have gone too far.
‘No, no, it’s OK,’ said Abbott, addressing them all. ‘You’re right to ask. I’d do the same in your position. No way you want somebody on the team who’s likely to let you down. But you’re going to have to take my word for it that, for the time being at least, I’m off it. Just like in the old days. When you hear what I have to tell you, you’ll understand.’
He outlined the job, giving scant detail. They nodded, saying little.
‘What’s the first step?’ asked Miller.
‘First, equipment,’ said Abbott. He looked to Brace as the team member who was still in the game and could lay his hands on what they needed.
‘We’re going to need NVGs, as well as large dems charges, smaller door charges, solid shot shotgun to take out door hinges and locks in addition to the charges. We’ll need shock tube and detonators. Zip ties. And of course we’ll need weapons. As well as my sidearm, I’d like an FN Scar.’
After the AR-15, the FN Scar heavy and light was the special forces’ favoured weapon. Abbott knew that Brace favoured the SSR – sniper support rifle – which was a marksman version. If Abbott’s previous experience of the men was anything to go by, then Ward would choose the Scar, too, while Miller would opt for the trusty AR-15. They wouldn’t want to make their decision yet, though.
‘What’s our objective?’