Contact by A. F. N. Clarke Page B

fuck just look at that!" The rest of the toms are sitting around the box shaking their heads.
    "Wow, oh wow, wow, wow."
    "Shit. Crazy cunt." Wonder in their eyes. Wish I'd been there.
    Strange city. Get into a gunfight, kill a few people, then relax and watch the replay on the box. At the moment, it's still the interminable census. Street-walking, door-knocking, brain-draining boredom.
    Hearts and minds.

 
     
     

    2200 hrs. July 1973.
    Warm night,
    Cool head,
    sore feet.
    The shot you don't hear Is meant for you.
     
    SUPPORT COMPANY HAVE been enjoying themselves over the past few weeks with a couple of contacts and a good publicity-earning kill in the Old Ardoyne. A gunman complete with Armalite rifle just about to zap at a foot patrol. He never got the butt into the shoulder. There was also a contact that we came superficially into when a stolen car was chased down the Crumlin and into the Shankill. It was eventually stopped, the occupants were turned onto the street and a seriously wounded terrorist was found lying on the back seat. By the time the patrol commander had finished a lengthy P. Check, the guy on the back seat was going cold. What a pity. Never mind. We all cheered and laughed, of course. One more of the bastards down.
    Apart from the odd low-velocity round and occasional scuffle, there has been little going on in our area. Although to date we have had the largest number of finds of arms and ammunition, it has caused little upset amongst the people. We've never been too friendly anyway, so any cooling off of attitude really doesn't bother us. In fact there are those among us who would dearly love to stir the pot a bit and crack the self-satisfied smugness of the U.D. A.
    Hookey and I have decided upon a little plan of action.
    "O.K., Hookey, on every late-night patrol, after midnight every swinging dick that moves in the area gets the complete treatment. Hands against the wall, complete body search. The lot. Any cunt that gets a bit mouthy, on the deck, spread-eagled. We don't particularly want to lift a whole pile because TAC. will only let them go."
    "O.K., boss." Bright gleam in his eyes.
    The choice of after midnight is logical, in that anyone moving around, that late at night in a hard area, was probably on the fringes of the outlawed organisations, otherwise they would not have the nerve to be out and about.
    Funny things happen in the dead of night in the Shankill.
    Standing around in the Ops. Room looking through the personalities file, when a call comes through on the radio. A panic voice, indistinct amid the crackle of static. Immediately the whole atmosphere changes. The stand-by section commander, half-asleep in his chair, suddenly wide awake and half-way out of the door to get the section ready and Saracen fired up. Within two minutes they are sitting in the Saracen and I've joined them with the information that a patrol has been ambushed in the Shankill Road. No other information bar the exact location.
    "Straight down to the Shankill, turn left and up to the Agnes Street junction. Go like hell." I'm shouting into the driver's ear above the roar of the engine.
    "When we get there, I'm dropping three of you off short of the turn and want you down in fire positions covering the rear. Jimmy, take the other three round the immediate area. There's a back-up on its way as soon as they get a Pig out to pick them up." Shouted orders. Thumping heart. Eyes wide in expectation. Cocked weapons. Holy fuck, this is it!
    There's a grey Morris 1800 in the middle of the street. Confusion. A Military Policeman kneeling beside the front wing. Another appearing from a doorway.
    "What the fuck are you doing here?"
    "We were just doing a routine car patro l, checking on stolen vehicles. "
    "You were what?" I'm incredulous. I don't believe my ears. Two M. P. s casually driving down the Shankill in the middle of the night in a civilian car in full uniform.
    "Oh, forget it. What happened?"
    "As we were driving along,