I was used to seeing on TV. The 105s had wreaked devastation. The remains of a six-barrel rocket launcher lay mangled on the back of a truck. Pete had homed in on what was left of a body. The image shook as the Bulldog bounced about, but he looked to be in his teens. The shredded clothing was still smouldering. An arm was missing, and a big chunk of the launcher stuck out of his back.
'We got one of the fuckers, anyway.' Sonia's East London tones even drowned the engine noise.
My nostrils twitched. I could smell shit. I looked at Sonia and raised an eyebrow.
'Not me.' She smiled. 'We're nearly there. Their sewers are fucked.'
Dave got on to his PRR. 'Front vehicle, count us in. Everyone, listen in.'
The company commander's head was buried in his laptop. Signals popped up on the screen every few seconds like messages in a chatroom. He talked non-stop on the net. The signaller worked frantically beside him. It was almost like watching a movie.
The Fijian's voice filled the net, very slow, very laid back, speaking as if he couldn't smell a whiff of shit. 'We're turning on to the target street now. Four hundred to go. Street is lit, house lights going out.'
13
The PRRs fell silent as the Fijian counted us in. Serious faces looked up and out at the buildings that hemmed us in on both sides.
'Fifteen . . . twenty . . .'
Dave pushed down the locking bar of the rear door and held it closed.
I checked my Osprey collar was up and the Velcro fastening in the front was secure enough to keep it that way.
'On target – stop, stop, stop!'
The wagon tipped forward. Dave hurled the door open before it had even finished rocking. He and the second medic both jumped out and disappeared towards the front of the wagon. He had to organize the strike and the protection, and relay everything back to the company commander. Sonia stayed in the wagon to receive any casualties.
Pete tumbled out. He had a job to do as well. He had to keep as close as he could to the entry team without getting killed.
Dom and I were close behind. All the Bulldog commanders were ripping down the cables overhead. Bulbs shattered on the ground. Lights went out along the rows of buildings as the area closed down and got ready for a nightmare. Petrified kids screamed at each other inside the buildings all round us.
Pete had reached the door in the outer wall of the target. The strike team was forming up each side. Terry checked it wasn't unlocked before the battering ram was swung into action. The bang of steel on steel mixed with the rumble of the wagon power packs, smashing glass and the screams of revved-up soldiers and terrified civilians.
Dom filmed with the IR camera in front of him as we moved along the line of Bulldogs. I gripped the back of his Osprey to steady him and keep him out of the team's way as he concentrated on the small digital screen.
The ladder crews ran across our path from left to right, heading for the rear of the building. Others legged it to the far side of the street. They needed to get Barney and his snipers up on vantage-points both sides of the road, soon as. Guys with Minimis followed to give all-round defence.
There was an almighty crash as the battering ram slammed into the steel door for the fifth time. Its top hinge ripped apart and the door fell halfway to the ground but held.
Pete's stills camera flashed on multidrive. The strobe effect made the entry team's movements look like something out of the Keystone Kops.
Snipers raced up ladders and on to walls.
The entry team formed up on the front door, half a dozen each side. Terry already had his weapon in the shoulder, facing in. His zit-covered face glistened with sweat. His mate behind held him by his Osprey, as if he was restraining a hyped-up greyhound.
'Get that fucking door in!' The yell echoed above the Bulldogs' engines.
The battering ram crashed against the steel door again and again. Pete did his paparazzo thing, triggering so many bursts of flashlight it seemed like there were a dozen cameras, not just one.
The steel door came off its hinges and crashed to the ground.
'Get in there! Now!' Dave somehow managed to make himself heard above the din of engines, shouts and screams from what seemed like every building in