the glass into the thin crack in the bomb’s plastic casing and pushed, gently so as not to disturb the timer, but with enough pressure to separate one end of the outer casing. He wiggled the glass, working it along the widening crack, until he had a space big enough to get his fingertips in.
He pulled at the plastic and it came apart. At the back of the timer mechanism he could see the ends of the four wires. He flicked the display over to check how much time he had left.
2.15; 2.14; 2.13 . . .
He took a deep breath to calm himself. You’ve still got two minutes, he told himself.
Four wires: blue, brown, yellow, green. He followed each along with his fingers. The yellow wire disappeared as soon as it ran into the casing– it wasn’t attached to the actual timer mechanism. So it was a dummy. It could be ignored. That left three: blue, brown or green.
He lifted the digital display so he could see the time again:
1.26; 1.25; 1.24 . . .
He remembered the wiring diagrams from his basic bomb training. Brown live, blue neutral. Green was for earth. But a bomb didn’t have an earth. So why had Deacon put in a green wire as well? To fool him, or anyone else who tried to defuse it? Or had he replaced the brown or blue with a green wire? A wire was a wire. The coloured plastic was just wrapped round it for safety identification.
23; 22; 21 . . . Twenty seconds to go. 19;18 . . .
He held the piece of broken glass in his hand. Blue or brown should do it. Unless the green was a blue or a brown in disguise.
The clock now showed 7; 6; 5 . . .
Mitch sawed at the brown wire. If he was wrong . . .
He kept sawing with the piece of glass; but the edge had lost its sharpness.
Damn! thought Mitch. I need a knife or wire cutters. But right now this is all I’ve got. Three seconds. Two seconds. One . . .
The copper wire separated as the piece of glass cut through it.
Then came the explosion.
13
It didn’t take long for Mitch to realise it wasn’t a real explosion – just the door of his flat being smashed off its hinges. He looked towards the opening. Nelson and Tug were standing there, automatic rifles in their hands. Tug rushed over to the bomb.
‘It’s OK,’ croaked Mitch. ‘It’s dead.’ His throat felt so dry he could hardly speak.
‘We were the nearest,’ explained Nelson. ‘We came as soon as we could.’
‘I told Gaz to make sure everyone stayed away,’ said Mitch. ‘I just wanted the area cleared.’
‘Yeah, Gaz told us,’ said Nelson.
He bent down and examined the bomb. ‘Jimmy up to his old tricks, eh,’ he said.
‘Yeah,’ said Mitch sourly. ‘Your old buddy has a wacky sense of humour.’
Gaz and Benny arrived about ten minutes later. By then Tug had sewn up the gashes in Mitch’s wrists, and Nelson had dismantled the detonator from the plastic explosives.
‘That sure is one big banger,’ he commented.
Gaz joined Nelson, examining the bomb. He nodded. ‘If that had gone off, it would have taken out most of this side of the building.’
‘That’s what your friend Jimmy told me,’ said Mitch.
Gaz grunted. ‘He’s no friend of mine, pal. At the beginning, I was prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt, but not after this.’
‘It’s a pity we’re off the case,’ murmured Tug. ‘If you ask me, this attack on Mitch calls for payback.’
‘We ain’t off the case yet,’ growled Nelson. ‘More than ever, this one’s ours!’
*
A few hours later Mitch was resting in his flat when he got the call from Nelson.
‘Washington came through for us,’ he told Mitch. ‘They agree that we’re the ones most likely to stop Deacon. That’s why we were brought in in the first place.’
‘I can’t believe that Deacon thought that killing me would stop the rest of you,’ said Mitch. ‘He must know how we soldiers feel about our comrades.’
There was a short silence, then Nelson said, ‘If you ask me, it’s just goes to show he’s really lost it. He’s mad, and
He pulled at the plastic and it came apart. At the back of the timer mechanism he could see the ends of the four wires. He flicked the display over to check how much time he had left.
2.15; 2.14; 2.13 . . .
He took a deep breath to calm himself. You’ve still got two minutes, he told himself.
Four wires: blue, brown, yellow, green. He followed each along with his fingers. The yellow wire disappeared as soon as it ran into the casing– it wasn’t attached to the actual timer mechanism. So it was a dummy. It could be ignored. That left three: blue, brown or green.
He lifted the digital display so he could see the time again:
1.26; 1.25; 1.24 . . .
He remembered the wiring diagrams from his basic bomb training. Brown live, blue neutral. Green was for earth. But a bomb didn’t have an earth. So why had Deacon put in a green wire as well? To fool him, or anyone else who tried to defuse it? Or had he replaced the brown or blue with a green wire? A wire was a wire. The coloured plastic was just wrapped round it for safety identification.
23; 22; 21 . . . Twenty seconds to go. 19;18 . . .
He held the piece of broken glass in his hand. Blue or brown should do it. Unless the green was a blue or a brown in disguise.
The clock now showed 7; 6; 5 . . .
Mitch sawed at the brown wire. If he was wrong . . .
He kept sawing with the piece of glass; but the edge had lost its sharpness.
Damn! thought Mitch. I need a knife or wire cutters. But right now this is all I’ve got. Three seconds. Two seconds. One . . .
The copper wire separated as the piece of glass cut through it.
Then came the explosion.
13
It didn’t take long for Mitch to realise it wasn’t a real explosion – just the door of his flat being smashed off its hinges. He looked towards the opening. Nelson and Tug were standing there, automatic rifles in their hands. Tug rushed over to the bomb.
‘It’s OK,’ croaked Mitch. ‘It’s dead.’ His throat felt so dry he could hardly speak.
‘We were the nearest,’ explained Nelson. ‘We came as soon as we could.’
‘I told Gaz to make sure everyone stayed away,’ said Mitch. ‘I just wanted the area cleared.’
‘Yeah, Gaz told us,’ said Nelson.
He bent down and examined the bomb. ‘Jimmy up to his old tricks, eh,’ he said.
‘Yeah,’ said Mitch sourly. ‘Your old buddy has a wacky sense of humour.’
Gaz and Benny arrived about ten minutes later. By then Tug had sewn up the gashes in Mitch’s wrists, and Nelson had dismantled the detonator from the plastic explosives.
‘That sure is one big banger,’ he commented.
Gaz joined Nelson, examining the bomb. He nodded. ‘If that had gone off, it would have taken out most of this side of the building.’
‘That’s what your friend Jimmy told me,’ said Mitch.
Gaz grunted. ‘He’s no friend of mine, pal. At the beginning, I was prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt, but not after this.’
‘It’s a pity we’re off the case,’ murmured Tug. ‘If you ask me, this attack on Mitch calls for payback.’
‘We ain’t off the case yet,’ growled Nelson. ‘More than ever, this one’s ours!’
*
A few hours later Mitch was resting in his flat when he got the call from Nelson.
‘Washington came through for us,’ he told Mitch. ‘They agree that we’re the ones most likely to stop Deacon. That’s why we were brought in in the first place.’
‘I can’t believe that Deacon thought that killing me would stop the rest of you,’ said Mitch. ‘He must know how we soldiers feel about our comrades.’
There was a short silence, then Nelson said, ‘If you ask me, it’s just goes to show he’s really lost it. He’s mad, and
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