" The weather was horrendous. The mist was heavy, 226 with visibility down to no more than twenty to thirty meters, and ice on the road was slowing everybody down. As soon as we went over about 30 mph, we started skidding. It was better just to slow down, take the vehicle to a maximum speed of about 25 mph; at least we would get there, not crash and lose 25 percent of the troop's effectiveness.

We could hear on the net that the other two cars were now in the area of the hotel and starting to search. One of the suspicious vehicles in that area that we knew to look out for was a blue van, possibly of foreign make.

Eno said, "I bet it's a f.u.c.king come-on." Maybe the boys wanted us in the area because they had planned a party.

The Boss was map-reading with a small Maglite torch: "Down here, turn left."

The car slithered around the bend. Frank said, "No point rushing.

Let's just trogon; we'll get there eventually."

Then we heard: "Stand by, we have a possible here, wait out."

Everybody shut up now, 'waiting to hear what happened next.

Al, Eddie, and Clive were in one of the cars and drove past a blue Toyota van parked up on another road just off the Drumrush Lodge.

Everyone apart from the driver was keeping right down; they didn't want to put anyone off their work. They came ' back on the net: "It's parked up, no lights, no movement, but the door is slightly open. It looks like something's going down."

Ken was on the net: "Block the road. We'll stake it out and see what turns up."

His team was now at the other end of the road. The van wasn't going to go anywhere; with luck the area was contained. However, we still didn't know what was going on.

Clive's team were out of their car and Al put out the caltrops, spiked chains that would stop a vehicle by blowing the tires out.

Ken was on the net to Fraser: "Is there any area that I've left?"

He obviously wanted to know if there was any road or track between the two cars that they hadn't seen.

"No, that's okay, everything's covered."

They stopped and listened. Sound travels much more at night and even further on cold ones.

As we slithered along as fast as we could on the ice, I pictured Eddie listening in the fog as he tried to learn what was happening around the car. He'd be opening his jaw to take out any noises of swallowing that he made with his mouth and leaning his ear to the area.

Eddie could hear something, but he needed it confirmed: "Clive, listen to this." He came to Eddie and turned his radio off so that there was no interference from his earpiece.

Someone was walking down the road. In the freezing fog this was wrong.

"Stand still, and put up your hands where I can see them!" Eddie shouted. "This is the security forces!"

The walker was about ten meters away and Eddie had decided that that was close enough. He called out just loud enough for this walker to hear, not loud enough, he hoped, to alert anyone else further afield.

"It's okay, it's only me!" The boy sounded as if he was flapping good style; he was hoping no doubt that his challengers were just a local army patrol so he'd have time to think of something or get some backup.

"Shut up, stand still or I will fire-do you understand?"

By now Clive had his HKS3 in his shoulder and was starting to move forward.

The boy ran.

Al moved to the back of the car to get a Schermuly flare from the boot.

He fired it into the air, and night turned into foggy day.

Clive and Eddie fired to the side of the boy as he ran over a ditch and fence and into a field. Night viewing aids were of limited value in fog. They were going to lose him; they had to do something.

From Ken we heard: "Contact, contact, wait out."

We started to get sparked up. The Boss said, "f.u.c.king h.e.l.l, it's on! We need to get there as fast as we can."

Frank said, "It's pointless rushing. We'll get there."

I knew Frank was right, but I felt helpless in the backseat.

Ken's team didn't know any more than we did; they would not move forward in case of a blue-on-blue (friendly fire). If Clive and Eddie needed any help, they would call for it.

All this time two other members of the PIRA gang had been no more than five meters away from Clive's team in the car. They must have heard it stop, and remained hidden. As the Schermuly went up and Clive and Eddie started to fire, so did they-at Al.

Clive and Eddie had got the runner. He quite sensibly stopped as the Schermuly was doing its job and he knew that he was in the s.h.i.t.

"Bring your hands up and turn towards me. Now walk towards me."

Clive was giving commands, but the boy wasn't listening. He got dragged onto the road and put facedown.

"I am going to search you," Clive said. "If you move, you will be shot, do you understand?" Eddie shouted for Al to bring some plasticuffs so they could immobilize him until the R.U.C arrived.

' We were nearly there now and telling Ken the direction of our approach so he could put us in where he wanted. The area was in darkness again.

Al hadn't responded to their request, so both men dragged the prisoner to the car.

Eddie said to Clive: "Take my weapon. I'll get in the back for the cuffs."

He handed it over to Clive, who covered the boy on the ground.

There wasn't a sling on Eddie's weapon so Clive was holding it in his hand.

Next person we heard on the net was Eddie: "h.e.l.lo, all call signs, we have a man down. It's Al-we need a heli. Get a helicopter in now!"

Fraser came back: "Roger that, confirm it's Al. Confirm it's Al, over."

He needed to make sure so that the blood type could be matched.

Eddie came back: "Yep, it's Al. Get it in now! We need it in now!"

We heard Ken say, "Get it in now! f.u.c.k the weather, I want a heli in there now!"

The scaleys were on other frequencies now, trying to get a heli up. But there was no way a helicopter could fly in freezing fog. The boss down at TCG was trying to organize to get an ambulance in.

Fraser came back to Clive and Eddie a few minutes later. "We can't get a heli in; the fog, s down too much.

We're trying for an ambulance, we're going to get something in for you, wait out, wait out."

Al had taken rounds in the arm and chest. Eddie got the trauma pack out of the boot to stop the bleeding and get some fluid into him.

This wasn't looking good: As well as Al's being down, there were more players around in the darkness.

Ken's team were out in the fields following up, and by now so were we.

The boy on the floor must have heard everything and considered himself deeply in the s.h.i.t because he decided to go for it. He lunged at Clive in an attempt to get past him; Clive dropped Eddie's HK53 so he could use his arm to drop him.

He was too late. The boy was gone, and so was the weapon.

"He's got a fifty-three!" Clive shouted. "He's got a fifty-three!"

They went after him.

Eddie had drawn his pistol; they both fired, and the boy dropped.

They ran forward and checked his body, 230 but there was no pulse.

They went back to Al, but it was too late. Al Slater was dead.

Ken came over the net, "Contact, wait out."

Frank replied, "We're about two minutes away. I'm stopping anything moving out."

We stopped any vehicles we saw coming from that direction. I was glad we were in uniform; there was a security base nearby, and now the s.h.i.t had hit the fan I wouldn't have wanted to be in civvies.

We saw lights coming along the road and put in an instant VCP.

Frank went to the car as any normal soldier would, so as to not arouse any suspicion: "h.e.l.lo, could I see your driving license please?

Where are you going? Thank you, good night."

What they didn't know was that I had an M16 pointing at the head of the driver and Eno had an LMG ready to stop the car and its pa.s.sengers if there was any threat to this local army VCP.

We started to follow up in the area, but it was going to be more luck than anything if we b.u.mped into ihem.

We had to cover as much ground as possible as quickly as possible.

On the net we heard the local unit's QRF being called forward by Fraser to cordon off the area, hoping that the players from the bomb team were still in the area feeling like trapped rabbits.

We could tell by the radio traffic that there were far more chiefs than Indians. Some of their Land Rovers were in ditches because of the ice.

All they knew was that. there were casualties and terrorists in the area. Every time a tree moved it was reported. There was a danger of our being shot by our own QRF.

There were short bursts of gunfire in the distance. Every time we got on the net: "What is it? What is it?" We wanted to react. Fraser came back each time. "Stand down, stand down." It was the QRF, firing at shadows.

There was a good chance that the boys could still be in the area, but the QRF were multiplying the problems, and if any more time was wasted, we might lose them.

Ken was severely p.i.s.sed off and got on the net: "Get this to the QRF: We will contain this area. They are to stay where they are. They are not to fire at anything unless one of us tells them to or they are being fired at.

No patrols, no movement; stay in the vehicles. Tell them not to react to anything until they're told."

We were well insulated, but my feet 'and hands were stiff with cold.

Every few steps I was slipping on the ice.

Fraser said, "The QRF have reported movement in some hedgerows by the river. Are there any of our call signs down by the river, over?"

Silence.

Frank said: "Me and Andy will take that."

"Roger that. Frank's going down to the river. Ken, acknowledge."

"Ken, roger that."

Frank said, "Andy, what I want you to do is just keep I moving forward and scanning the hedgerow with your night sight.

I'll be behind you with mine, and we'll get these boys out."

I switched my sight back on, took a deep breath, and started moving.

It was eerily quiet. I could hear the ice cracking on the gra.s.s.

I was in a semicrouched position, safety catch off, b.u.t.t in the shoulder, picking my feet up really high, trying not to breathe too hard, trying to keep the noise down, trying to keep as small as possible. Frank was about five to seven meters behind, aiming just to my right so he could take anybody on. Because he was detached, it would be easier for him to react.

I was listening in on the radio, making sure I knew where everybody was.

By now an ambulance had turned up, and it had its blue light flashing.

It was a fair way away from us, but as the light spun around, it was catching us like dancers in a disco strobe. I thought, f.u.c.king h.e.l.l, this is a good day out this is.

I took two or three steps, stopped, ran my night sight up and down. We moved on, stopped, moved on. At any moment I was expecting to hear a burst of gunfire and to feel the rounds thud into my body.

It wasn't a nice feeling at all.

Big drainage ditches ran alongside the hedgerows. It was pitch-black; visibility was s.h.i.t; there was lots of commotion, lots of noise in the distance. Running around in there somewhere were terrorists who'd just had a contact. They would be flapping, they would want to get out of it, and they would be armed.

It was only after about twenty minutes that I thought: s.h.i.t, I've drawn the short straw here, haven't I? I'll take all the rounds and Frank lands up shooting them.

We found nothing.

After a few days pieces of the puzzle started to come. together.

Antoin Mac Giolla Bride was an ex-Southern Irish soldier and a well-known terrorist since he was first arrested with a rifle in 1979.