Then how much cover did the man want? Did he want to cut himself totally away from everyday life, or did he want to carry on as if nothing had happened' A lot of people choose just to carry on; they might have kids and want them to have a normal existence.

Fraser got us together the next morning, and we left ',n pairs, driving around the area. We drove past the U.D.R man's house, then took the route that he normally took to work, which was downhill from the house, down what was known as the old Dungannon road. There wasn't that much to look at; we just oriented ourselves to the area, turning down all the roads. Fraser had it staggered so there weren't loads of cars screaming around the place at the same time.

At two o'clock we arrived for another briefing. Ken and the Boss came in, straight from TCG in Armagh. en sai, "Right, it's on. The boy's no hyper d.i.c.khead; he's switched on, and he knows what he's seen. As far as TCG is concerned, the boys are going to hit him on the way to work, just as he reckoned.

So the plan still stands. Al, you still on for it?"

"No problems."

"Good news. Okay, we're going to insert at about four o'clock in the morning. Al's going to go to the house and sort all the s.h.i.t out for the drive to work.

We're going to have three groups. I want one group that's going to be on the roundabout on the old Dungannon road.

They'll be dropped off by a two-man car team, who'll then stay out of the area backing up the two blokes on the roundabout. Your names are up on the board with the vehicles.

"Then there's going to be two cars to back Al in the Saab.

There's going to be my car, the Lancia, call sign Bravo, and we'll take the maroon Renault, call sign India. My car will be three up, including me; the Renaults going to be four up."

As I looked on the board, I could see my name down as the driver of the Renault.

"Bravo and India are going to move down to the area, and I'll drop off Al. Al will go into the house and stay.

We'll then support Al from the outside. About an hour later I want the ground call sign to insert. I reckon that the hit's got to be around that area anyway, because once he gets on the old Dungannon road it's quite a good run all the way to work. The dodgy area is the slow patch where there's all the junctions going up to Henderson's."

I knew the roundabout he was talking about. It was where the Mi met the Coalisland and Dungannon road.

The U.D.R major was always running down the old road, which was smaller and with less traffic. Everything converged at this roundabout. From there it became a faster road.

"Ground call sign, you will be in uniform. Your job is to give us early warning of anything that you see. If we're really going for it, your job is to get out on the road and act as a cutoff. India, when Al starts moving in the Saab, I want you to back him. Al will give a running commentary of what's going on. I'm going to be floating around.

I just want you to stay static, backing up Al all the time.

If there's any hijackings in the area, hopefully we'll know straightaway, and we should get a list of recent stolen vehicles as well."

It would have to be a van or truck, so they could get in a good fire position to take out the Saab- Even if they were looking at ramming it, the Saab was a big heavy machine, so they'd need something really big.

"It's a matter of keeping flexible," Ken said, "and keeping on Al's a.r.s.e, making sure you back him up."

If nothing happened on the way down, we'd then cover him on the way back. All he was going to do was drive the route to work, turn around, and drive back to the house.

"Any questions?"

Eno said, "Do we know how many players are involved?

"Not a clue. It's got to be at least three men-two firing, one driving.

It might be a hit as soon as he comes out of the house, but it's our job to make sure that doesn't happen." He turned to Al and said, "If you want to try some body armor on, it's up to you, mate.

You can wear it or not. Make sure the U.D.R boy's got so much body armor on the f.u.c.ker can only just about get in the car!"

Al said, "I'll try it on and see what it looks like. If it looks s.h.i.t, I'll take it off."

"I want you with comms, and I want you to give us a running commentary as you're going along the road.

You can hear what we're doing, so if we say to get out of the way, just f.u.c.k off out of it and we'll take over. If the van comes up in front of you, act on it. just ram the f.u.c.ker," and we'll be straight in and climbing aboard them."

That was it; there wasn't much else to say. "There'll be no move before two o'clock."

This was where, as much as the training and the skills that we'd learned, the relationships between people came into the equation: Al had to have total and utter trust in the people who were covering him.

He also had to make sure the U.D.R man was calm and feeling secure because he might have to control him if the s.h.i.t hit the fan. Al's job was twice as hard as ours; not only would he have to react to the incident, but he'd also have to get to grips with the man he was protecting.

During all the planning and preparation, the head shed and the troop worked out together the way we could best protect, these two. We worked through our "actions on" for all the possibilities-whether they were going to come and ram the car or come up behind it, overtake, and then start shooting at him as they drove past and got in front of him; whether they were going to force his vehicle to stop and then shoot him or wait until he got out of his house and into the car, or vice versa.

Ken said to Al, "When you come out of the house, we'll have you covered, so don't worry about that. Let him ' do the normal checks that he does under the vehicle, get in, and away you go."

"No drama."

We all knew that the highest risk times of any hit were (a) when coming out of the house, (b) driving to and from work, and (c) coming out of the place of work.

Terrorists studied routines. There was nearly always a time frame, say, between eight or eight-thirty, when the target would go out, kiss his wife and kids good-bye, get in the car, and go; people always drov set routes if they were unaware. At the other end of the day they'd always leave work at the same time. A professional terrorist would always go for the most predictable timings.

That's when kidnappers, struck, too.

Al tried on some of the different body armors, but he just didn't look right. He decided to bin it. It was a personal choice. Had he wanted to look like the Michelin man, that would have been his prerogative; he was the boy who was going to get shot at.

At two o'clock we were ready to go. All the weapons were loaded and in the cars. I took an HK53, the 5.56 a.s.sault rifle. Most people were taking 9MM MP5s or 5.56 to give a combination of concealment in the car and a good amount of firepower.

The other weapon I had was the car itself; I could use it to ram.

Fraser was going to be running the desk with a couple of the scaleys. We had the two boys in uniform, who had M16s. The cars were loaded up with flasks, pies, and sandwiches; it looked like it could b'e a long night and a long day.

We sat in the briefing room again, our 9MM pistols in holsters on our belts. We had magazines strapped all around us, we had body comms, and each man had a pair of thin leather gloves and industrial gla.s.ses, so that if the windows went in, at least we could still drive and protect ourselves.

Ken said, "Before we go, any questions? No right, let's crack on and get it done."

I got into the driver's seat and put my HK53 across the bottom of the footwell with the muzzle sticking UP by the gearstick. I checked the comms: "Bravo, India, check?"

"India, okay."

From the ground call sign dropoff car we heard: "Delta, check?"

"Bravo, okay."

We drove along and kept Fraser informed of our location. We were the first ones in position; I drove past the house and got on the net: "Bravo, India, that's the house clear."

Ken came on the net: "Bravo, roger that, going for the drop now."

The car pulled up, and Al got out casually and walked to the door.

The door opened and he walked in. As the car drove away, Ken said: "Bravo, that's dropoff complete.

"Delta, roger that."

"India, roger."

It was Just a matter of hanging around now. After about five minutes we heard Al doing his radio check on his personal comms. We were ready to go.

We were parked up in a little alleyway about three hundred meters from the house, drinking coffee and eating biscuits. There was a pocket scope NVA (night viewing) in the car and occasionally somebody would pick it up and have a look around.

Everything was fine.

We sat in darkness.

Every half hour Ken came on the net. "h.e.l.lo, all stations, this is Bravo, radio check."

"Delta."

"India."

"Bravo, roger that."

It was quite chilly. My feet were cold, and I started to shiver.

I did my coat up a bit more, and then I became conscious of the wind on my face from the half-open window. I was starting to get a bit tired.

I wanted morning to come so we could get the job over and done with.

It started to get light at about half past seven, and we heard Ken on the net: "That's Bravo going mobile."

He was going to have a cruise around the area to see if there was anything outrageous going on. We knew that Al would soon be coming out.

A couple of minutes later Al came up: "Radio check."

"Bravo, roger that."

"Another five minutes and I'll be going."

"Bravo, roger that."

The Lancia, call sign Bravo, was cruising around but didn't see anything. The plan was that Ken was going to be in front, clearing the area as we moved; Al was going to be in the center, and we'd be backing him from the rear.

"That's me moving out of the house now," Al said.

"Bravo, roger that. India and Delta, acknowledge."

I switched the engine on. Everybody picked up his weapon and held it between his legs, ready to go. All the banter stopped now; this was serious time.

"That's me now at the door."

"Bravo, roger that. Call signs acknowledge."

"Delta."

"India."

"Walking towards the car."

"Bravo."

"That's garage doors open."

"Bravo."

"He's checking the car."

"That's me now in the car."

"Bravo."

"Engine on."

"Bravo."

"Stand by, stand by. That's me now mobile., "Bravo, roger that."

We came up: "That's India mobile."

"Bravo, roger that."

Al drove past us in the car, a top-of-the-range Saab. I fell in behind him, covering his moves from positions where we knew we would be able to get to him as soon as the shoot took place.

Al was giving a running commentary as he was moving along: what cars were coming up, their registrations, how many people were inside, what he could see ahead, what he could see behind him, what speed he was traveling at, whereabouts he was on the road. I had a mental picture of exactly where he was and what was going on around him.

Ken came on the net from his vehicle: "That's a yellow van moving around in the area. It just doesn't look right; it's hanging around the junction for too long. It's a. yellow Enterprise Ulster van. It's gone towards the old Dungannon road and I can't see it now. It's out of sight.

Call signs acknowledge."

Everybody acknowledged. We were all sparked up; it looked as if it might be on.

Ken drove up toward the roundabout and parked up.

He was going to let the Saab and us go past. All of us were looking for this yellow van. It sounded right.

Al, still very calm, was talking into his covert comms.

There's quite a skill in talking while people are looking at you, without their realizing what you're doing.