I was up at him now, and he was still looking straight at me.

"That's confirmed, two up, very aware."

We were not going to do anything yet as they might take us to another safe house. But if they were going to place the bomb, we would be there. We just had to keep with it.

By now I had the skill to give a commentary on the net, telling everyone what was going on, not moving my lips, trying not to catch the eye of the boys in the car but at the same time stay with them.

"He's turning left. Stop, stop, stop. Delta's Foxtrot."

He got down to the bottom past the Bogside and turned left toward the Little Diamond.

"That's now left towards the Little Diamond. He's going into the first o tion left." I knew the c' back to pity front; I'd spent so many hours learning it and walking it; I knew where all the players lived, what their' kids looked like, where the kids went to school. I knew this was a dead end. "That's a stop, stop, stop! stop, stop, stop!"

I drove past their car and went off onto the waste area of the Rosville Flats, the area of the b.l.o.o.d.y Sunday shootings, where there was a car park. I stopped and got out. I had to get on the ground straightaway so that by the time he'd parked I was out and walking.

"Lima's Foxtrot."

Rick was right behind me and stopped his car as soon as they turned into the Bogside. I saw him walking into the dead end of the estate. That took a lot of b.o.l.l.o.c.ks; he didn't know what he was walking into. Were they armed? Were they ready with the bomb; was it now being brought out and moved into another wagon? Was it going to be an armed bombing?

As I walked toward the open square of the estate, I saw-an old converted container lorry that served as a shop. Children were running around; women were hanging off the balconies. There were a few cars parked up.

There was nowhere to go, but we had to make it look as if we were going somewhere. It was no good knowing just that the bomb was in the Bogside, because i the estate was a warren of little alleyways.

We needed to know precisely where it was and who was handling it.

Rick walked past the shop and then saw the car. I followed to back him up in case of d.i.c.kers or a trap.

He said, "Stand by, stand by. Charlie One's being unloaded.

That's now being unloaded."

I said, "Delta's backing. Delta's backing you, Lima."

"They're loading it top left-hand side. It's getting unloaded into the top left-hand side flat. That's confirmed.

That's confirmed."

Rick was walking through the alleyway. As he got further out, he was able to talk. "Alpha, Lima. The device was unloaded, and it went into the top left-hand flat. There were about three people holding it, and there were two d.i.c.kers. It looks abandoned. There's some boards up on the windows."

"Alpha, roger that."

By this time I could hear the other cars in the area, keeping an eye out for other players. They would be watching the entrance to the square; the players might just be putting it in there, priming it up, putting it in another wagon and running it out. That bomb now had to be controlled all the time. It mustn't go anywhere.

Not so easy in the Bogside, but we did it.

The decision was made to lift the bomb by having the police raid the square and take it. There was nothing much said in any newspaper, national or local, about the incident. It was just another "find."

PIRA -put it down to a tout, but it wasn't anything of the kind.

It was the Det spending hours of intelligence gathering and surveillance.

The way this was done was by people being in these hard areas and getting up against the targets. If that bomb had gone off, tens of people could have been killed.

Such incidents made me glad that I had been sent to the Det. They made me understand how professional they were and not just Walter Midis.

Having said that, I itty Waits. would never admit it: they were still the By now I was a corporal and things looked promising.

Eno and I were team leaders in the Det and even considered coming back for a second tour. The words of the CO at the time of the great press-gang had been: "What we want is a complete soldier, one who can operate from both sides of the coin. The only way you are going to get operational ex erience on the other side ising to the Det." p by goHe was scoffed at then. But now I knew he was right.

The Regiment were getting the most highly trained and operationally experienced soldiers in the world, capable of manning a GPMG in a slit trench or walking around an alien environment, blending in and gaining information, and I was very proud to be part of that.

Eno, Brendan, Dave 2, and I were out on the ground one day, following two boys out of the Bogside up toward the Creggan Estate.

They were moving carrying rifles and radios wrapped in black bin liners.

On the net I heard, "Stop, stop, stop." The boys had stopped somewhere behind a row of buildings. Eno came on the net "That's them now complete. That's now complete-o'the of the gardens. Wait wait That's now complete the row of gardens-twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six."

We now knew that they were messing around in the area of those gardens and Eno could see them. As he walked past the fence that ran parallel, he looked left out of the corners of his eyes. "They're putting it in the coal shed. They're putting it in the coal shed.

Wait wait That's confirmed, the weapons are in the coal shed."

Brendan, the team leader, still in his car, came back: "Alpha, roger that."

We'd just spent the last three hours following these people around. We'd picked them up in the Bogside, where there was a hide that we knew contained weapons. The Bogside was a maze of sixties-style concrete and-gla.s.s flats and maisonettes linked by alleyways and dead ends. The place was in s.h.i.t state. Dogs barked and skulked; kids hollered and hurtled around on push bikes or kicked b.a.l.l.s against the wall. Women shouted at one another over the landings.

Unemployed men sat on steps, smoking and talking. It was November, and at three-thirty in the afternoon it was very cold.

We wanted to make sure where the weapons were going to. We "took" them from the Bogside up toward the Creggan, and now they were behind these three houses.

The Creggan was on the opposite high ground, the other side of the valley, looking down on the walled city of Derry. Unlike the Bogside, it was laid out in long lines of brown-brick terraced houses, a big estate with a central gra.s.sy area and shops and a library. By the time we got up there it was just starting to get dark and I could see my breath. I was wearing an old German army parka, jeans, and trainers.

My hair was still long and greasy, and I hadn't shaved for days; I blended in well. I felt quite happy in these areas now; we'd been on the ground for some time and were well tuned in. And at the end of the day I had a big fat gun tucked inside my jeans.

These were hard areas, and there had been a lot of contacts. I laughed to myself when I remembered the phrase "pa.s.sive surveillance."

I thought, There's f.u.c.k all pa.s.sive about being in the Bogside, following two blokes with weapons, going up to the Creggan to see what they're going to do with them.

Eno came on the net. "I'll go for the trigger."

Alpha came back, "Roger that. November's going for the trigger."

We now had to control the weapons; if they were moved from that spot, we had to know and be able to follow them, wherever they went.

If they stayed put, the plan was to get them out of the coal shed later that night and lark them there and then on the spot. Either way we would have control. The problem was hanging around in the Creggan for that amount of time. Everybody on these estates was very aware, from small children to old grannies. There was always an atmosphereof high tension. Two weeks before, a soldier had got shot straight through the head, and everybody on the estate was well pleased with the effort.

Eno was at the bottom of the garden, down a little walkway that ran between some garages and the garden itself. He was tucked in to one side; if he got discovered, he'd just pretend that he was having a p.i.s.s and then walk away. This was where all the CQB training and skills came in; it was deciding when the situation demanded that you pull that gun.

He whispered, "November's got the trigger. I'm down the bottom of the path, between the garages and the gardens."

"Alpha, roger that. November's got the trigger."

Eno was going to stand there in the dark, about fifteen meters from the weapons. If there was no need to move until midnight, he wouldn't.

Brendan was further down the road in a car, ready to back Eno if anything happened. Dave 2 and I were just swanning around, me in my eight-year-old Volkswagen GT waiting to respond.

I parked up. It was now about five-thirty in the evening, and all the streetlights were on. Smoke started to pour from the chimney pots, and I could, smell burning peat and coal. The field across the road was a jumble of wrecked cars and roaming horses. It was starting to drizzle.

I got out of the car and said, "That's Delta going Foxtrot.

"Alpha, roger that-Delta's going Foxtrot."

I heard: "That's Golf going Foxtrot."

We were all off to the Spar shop down the road. I bought my "blending-in" items-a can of c.o.ke and a copy of the Sun-and lounged against the wall. Dave 2 bought a bag of chips from the van outside and joined me for a brief chat.

I drove around the block, parked up somewhere else, and went for a walk.

It was about seven o'clock when I heard Enos voice, calm as ever: "Stand by, stand by.

That's two Charlies coming in."

He gave the registration numbers and descriptions of the cars.

"That's three Bravos coming out. One with long dark hair, jean jacket, and jeans; one with a blue nylon parka and black trousers; one with a green bomber jacket and blue jeans.

"It's looking all very businesslike," he said. "It isn't a social thing. They're very aware. Something's on."

I sat in the car, reading the Sun and drinking my c.o.ke.

Alpha acknowledged. Other call signs went mobile, orbiting around Eno.

About twenty minutes later I heard: "Stand by, stand by. That's three Bravos Foxtrot towards the car. That's at the cars, still going straight. They're walking towards me. They're starting to put masks on. Possible contact.

Possible contact. Stand by." Eno never flapped; his voice was calm and relaxed.

If they were putting the masks on and walking toward him, as far as he was concerned he'd been compromised-but maybe not yet. He hadn't seen any weapons, so it was pointless doing anything at the moment.

Very casually, he started to describe what was going on: "They're still coming towards me."

We were getting out of the cars; we had to start closing in, but we had to do it in such a manner that it didn't compromise what was going on.

It might be a false alarm. They might just walk past and go and do something else; then we'd follow them. As they got closer to him, Eno couldn't talk. I started to walk quite fast toward him.

Alpha got on the net: "November, check."

Eno gave him two clicks.

"Are they still coming towards you?"

Click, click.

"Have they still got their masks on?"

Click, click.

It went quiet for a while. I was still walking fast. As I got to the area of the cars, I could see down the alleyway. I always used to carry my pistol tucked down the front of my jeans. I remembered the story Mick had told us about the boy getting pushed in the Shantello; the only thing that had saved him as he rolled was having his pistol to the front. I took my gloves off as I walked and threw them on the floor. If I had to draw my gun, I'd lift my jacket with my left hand as high as it would go, with a big aggressive motion, then draw my pistol with my right. I was expecting to see these boys going down the alleyway to Eno and opening fire, but I saw jack s.h.i.t.

All of a sudden Eno came on the net. "They've gone right; they've gone down the side of the garages."

As I looked down the line of the fence, to the right of me was a line of garages. I knew they'd gone down there and were walking behind the garages. They didn't have the weapons; those were still in the coal shed. So what were they up to?

Brendan was coming from another direction, walking along the back of the garages. As soon as he heard that they'd turned right, he did a quick about-turn and walked off. He didn't want a head-to-head.

However, he now had these three masked boys behind him.

He landed up %walking about ten meters in front of them, down the same roadway. He could hear them getting closer and closer. He could hear them talking.

"That's it-they're right behind me. Stand by for a possible contact."

I knew Eno was off to my left-hand side somewhere. I wanted to make sure I got behind these people. Then I heard Brendan: "I have from the front. I have from the front."

I said, "That's Delta backing you, Hotel."

Dave 2 said, "Golf's mobile."

Wherever we went now, Dave 2 would make sure he was following us with the motor. We kept on walking.

They weren't talking and were fairly aware. The alleyway was a well-used thoroughfare that linked two sets of gardens; it wasn't suspicious for us to be there. The ground was pitted asphalt, littered with old cans. Looking to the left, I saw people doing their dishes at mistedup kitchen windows.

"Golf, Delta, check."

Click, click.

"Are you still backing?"

Click, click."

"Are they still along the back of the garages?"

Click, click.

"Are they still hooded up?"

Click, click.

The garages went on for about sixty or seventy meters. As they got to the end, they turned right. Brendan kept on going straight; I came on the net and said, 'They've gone right towards the main [main road."

Brendan said, "Roger that. I'm going complete. I'm going to my car."