Prologue: Terror Prelude
During the time from 1970 to 1997, there was a terrorist bomb attack almost every year in London, and almost every attack is accompanied by heavy casualties and atrocious economic loss, and at 11:17 on June 15th, Corporation Street in the centre of Manchester was ruined by a 1500-kilogram lorry bomb in an enormous bang, causing more than 500 injuries or death, and the executor IRA (Irish Republic Army) should have used their old trick, setting up a bomb which is extremely hard to defuse and call the police to evacuate civilians an hour or 90 minutes before they detonate it in order to keep their own “Image of Justice” and avoid causing public repugnance.
But this time, they just “should have used”.
Sometimes tea drinkers will take things more seriously than vodka drinkers when they got angry.
December 25th,1990 Belfast, North Ireland
“Check time.” With the soft rustling of clothes, a male with east London accent breaks the long last silent.
“Twelve thirteen.” Here goes an answer, from southern Wales, with the thickness of the huge splash that great surges crash onto the southern coastline cliffs.
“Twelve thirteen.” Then an older man’s well experienced voice comes from the dark backseats, a standard British accent as you can’t tell where he comes from.
The man sitting on the main driver’s seat draws out a pistol, Swiss SIG SAUR P226 semi-auto pistol. In order to keep convenience of carrying, he even don’t used a suppressor. Like a child playing with his toy skillfully, after pulling the slide back twice, his pistol extracts two 9×19mm Parabellum rounds as his will. Release the magazine, push this two “metal stick” shining in the darkness back into the magazine, he finished the checking progress of his toy, it is believed that so do his 2 playmates.
Once then he wants to stop to thank weaponry officers for their professional firearms field strip, but obviously he is quite busy right now, no time to waste.
“Three, ready to go.” This is not chatting about weather as before, this is talking to the other side of the earphone.
“Green light.” This is the answer from that other side which means everything will go as it planned.
Letting yourself smell gunpowder possibly leads to the ruin of this holy day.
Three men almost open the door and dismount at the same time, the air conditioner inside the car keeps shutdown so they don’t need to adapt to the freezing cold temperature outside, sunlight brings no warmness but a little bit of brightness.
There’s no possibility to park the car besides the HVT’s house, of course they are not to welcome that guy respectfully. Right now, right here, no one is in the street, except those Royal Marines soldiers hiding in the shadow without doubt.
The action of drawing the gun completes in a second, they just lean their upper body and slip their hands under the coat near their waist, the gun has been already held in hands. They lower the gu****************thily to the alley located in the middle of two apartments, there is a wooden clapboard where a yard is behind, the man from the East End tries the wooden door on it.
Good, unlocked as usual.
After pushing the door open he checks corners both sides and at this moment another teammate moves two steps forward with his MP5A3 arise, the third then comes in backward and lightly holds the door before he closes it and releases the handle slowly.
Close quarter battles need to play to the score as you can’t completely predict what will the circumstances be in the next second no matter how much analyzing and preparation you’ve done, their training all year round provides them with extremely fast reaction speed, sensitive situation perception, strong body, accurate shooting skill and unbeatable will.
Move alongside the path in the yard, they keep close to the wall but not to cling on it, this not only provides concealment and cover but also prevents being shot by the ricochets off the stone wall, the bullets are blind flying to the both of them after all.
According to intelligence analyses of long time reconnaissance, the target must be inside the room where at the end of this path, terrain goes down along the path as it leads to the basement. On the basis of the construction plan they retrieved before, go through the storage room after making an entrance into the building and then there is the door of the target’s room. Barring any unpredictable circumstance, the bullet loaded in the chamber will only play the role as a threat, in this case they can avoid hearing gunfight and smelling gunpowder in this festival.
PE4 for plastic explosive type 4, surprisingly effective in only a small piece of it, attach to the position of the door lock, detonate with a mini-type detonator, and the door lock will be blasted off with a bang.
“BANG!”
It’s meaningless to kick the door now, the Welshman break into the door and rush straight into the bedroom, the easterner is closely behind him, left a MP5 at the doorway on guard.
“Freeze! Hands in the air! NOW! Show me your hands!” The target is in a black jacket, just as the intelligence said. One second before he was napping, and now he is put down by the Welshman with his hair caught, when his face roughly hits the fully dusty floor, it seems like that the whole apartment is quaking, although this Irish Republic Army’s “Colonel” is quite strong, the soldier which he is facing is stronger like a hill comparatively.
Being body searched all over, the target’s head is hooded in a black head cover and his hands are cuffed behind his back, in just seconds he gives up the thought of resistance, these people who caught him are damn professional, whoever they are, this Colonel has already hidden his courage in his boots.
“Gotcha!” The easterner half-jokingly yells in the radio.
After regrouped with the MP5 shooter at the doorway, they are going back through the way they came as the plan, they don’t need any unknown factors. Walk up alongside the stone wall, they are moving towards the wood door slowly, accurately speaking, very slowly. All soldiers in these guy’s regiment will take a tactic which is extremely slow in speed and taking care everywhere discreetly in some certain occasion, for example, now.
Although they all know how much rounds their weapons in their hands can shoot, but again, no one is willing to make himself or the residents in the district hear the gunshots.
But obviously their enemies don’t give a shit.
“The next-door neighbour’s yard is connected with this side, only separated with a short line of stone wall at the height of a man in the middle, we can assume that the target’s bodyguards will appear from here after hearing something strange, on the left of the stone wall.” This is an extract from the MI5 intelligence’s brief before the operation, as essential information, these soldiers will pay extra attention to these details.
“Rat-tat-tat!” Good guys open fire first, with the hot air produced by smokeless powder, the rifling engraves six grooves on the projectile. At the same time when the projectile is spat out, a few metal particles are sprayed out along, but the things noticeable sometimes are not these. Mixed with stale see breeze, the projectile is spinning and crashing into the edge of the stone wall, generally speaking, the 9mm Parabellum pistol round is unable to penetrate the stone wall completely, but when it’s shot from an oblique angle, the projectile is one hundred per cent sure of penetration and kills.
They won’t give a single early chance to the e***********aunch an attack, their target capturing rate was one hundred during these time, and their four men team got no single casualty.
As you are going to ask where the fourth member is.
“Puff, puff” Here comes the moans when rifle rounds drilling into human’s body, if you are going to find the source of these 7.62mm NATO shots, you better check it out with the fourth team member in the radio.
“Two Targets down.” There is a voice in the radio, “Clear to go.”
As usual, the three men keep moving forward, return as how they enter.
On the way back.
“Who’s next?” this is the voice of the easterner.
The sound of rummaging files rings like that’s an order.
“Simon Mathews.”
Placid sea breeze blows every corner of British Isles, at the time when the policemen arrived, the smell of the gunpowder had been blown away. The name noticed unconsciously, sowed the seeds of catastrophes in the future.
But this time, they just “should have used”.
Sometimes tea drinkers will take things more seriously than vodka drinkers when they got angry.
December 25th,1990 Belfast, North Ireland
“Check time.” With the soft rustling of clothes, a male with east London accent breaks the long last silent.
“Twelve thirteen.” Here goes an answer, from southern Wales, with the thickness of the huge splash that great surges crash onto the southern coastline cliffs.
“Twelve thirteen.” Then an older man’s well experienced voice comes from the dark backseats, a standard British accent as you can’t tell where he comes from.
The man sitting on the main driver’s seat draws out a pistol, Swiss SIG SAUR P226 semi-auto pistol. In order to keep convenience of carrying, he even don’t used a suppressor. Like a child playing with his toy skillfully, after pulling the slide back twice, his pistol extracts two 9×19mm Parabellum rounds as his will. Release the magazine, push this two “metal stick” shining in the darkness back into the magazine, he finished the checking progress of his toy, it is believed that so do his 2 playmates.
Once then he wants to stop to thank weaponry officers for their professional firearms field strip, but obviously he is quite busy right now, no time to waste.
“Three, ready to go.” This is not chatting about weather as before, this is talking to the other side of the earphone.
“Green light.” This is the answer from that other side which means everything will go as it planned.
Letting yourself smell gunpowder possibly leads to the ruin of this holy day.
Three men almost open the door and dismount at the same time, the air conditioner inside the car keeps shutdown so they don’t need to adapt to the freezing cold temperature outside, sunlight brings no warmness but a little bit of brightness.
There’s no possibility to park the car besides the HVT’s house, of course they are not to welcome that guy respectfully. Right now, right here, no one is in the street, except those Royal Marines soldiers hiding in the shadow without doubt.
The action of drawing the gun completes in a second, they just lean their upper body and slip their hands under the coat near their waist, the gun has been already held in hands. They lower the gu****************thily to the alley located in the middle of two apartments, there is a wooden clapboard where a yard is behind, the man from the East End tries the wooden door on it.
Good, unlocked as usual.
After pushing the door open he checks corners both sides and at this moment another teammate moves two steps forward with his MP5A3 arise, the third then comes in backward and lightly holds the door before he closes it and releases the handle slowly.
Close quarter battles need to play to the score as you can’t completely predict what will the circumstances be in the next second no matter how much analyzing and preparation you’ve done, their training all year round provides them with extremely fast reaction speed, sensitive situation perception, strong body, accurate shooting skill and unbeatable will.
Move alongside the path in the yard, they keep close to the wall but not to cling on it, this not only provides concealment and cover but also prevents being shot by the ricochets off the stone wall, the bullets are blind flying to the both of them after all.
According to intelligence analyses of long time reconnaissance, the target must be inside the room where at the end of this path, terrain goes down along the path as it leads to the basement. On the basis of the construction plan they retrieved before, go through the storage room after making an entrance into the building and then there is the door of the target’s room. Barring any unpredictable circumstance, the bullet loaded in the chamber will only play the role as a threat, in this case they can avoid hearing gunfight and smelling gunpowder in this festival.
PE4 for plastic explosive type 4, surprisingly effective in only a small piece of it, attach to the position of the door lock, detonate with a mini-type detonator, and the door lock will be blasted off with a bang.
“BANG!”
It’s meaningless to kick the door now, the Welshman break into the door and rush straight into the bedroom, the easterner is closely behind him, left a MP5 at the doorway on guard.
“Freeze! Hands in the air! NOW! Show me your hands!” The target is in a black jacket, just as the intelligence said. One second before he was napping, and now he is put down by the Welshman with his hair caught, when his face roughly hits the fully dusty floor, it seems like that the whole apartment is quaking, although this Irish Republic Army’s “Colonel” is quite strong, the soldier which he is facing is stronger like a hill comparatively.
Being body searched all over, the target’s head is hooded in a black head cover and his hands are cuffed behind his back, in just seconds he gives up the thought of resistance, these people who caught him are damn professional, whoever they are, this Colonel has already hidden his courage in his boots.
“Gotcha!” The easterner half-jokingly yells in the radio.
After regrouped with the MP5 shooter at the doorway, they are going back through the way they came as the plan, they don’t need any unknown factors. Walk up alongside the stone wall, they are moving towards the wood door slowly, accurately speaking, very slowly. All soldiers in these guy’s regiment will take a tactic which is extremely slow in speed and taking care everywhere discreetly in some certain occasion, for example, now.
Although they all know how much rounds their weapons in their hands can shoot, but again, no one is willing to make himself or the residents in the district hear the gunshots.
But obviously their enemies don’t give a shit.
“The next-door neighbour’s yard is connected with this side, only separated with a short line of stone wall at the height of a man in the middle, we can assume that the target’s bodyguards will appear from here after hearing something strange, on the left of the stone wall.” This is an extract from the MI5 intelligence’s brief before the operation, as essential information, these soldiers will pay extra attention to these details.
“Rat-tat-tat!” Good guys open fire first, with the hot air produced by smokeless powder, the rifling engraves six grooves on the projectile. At the same time when the projectile is spat out, a few metal particles are sprayed out along, but the things noticeable sometimes are not these. Mixed with stale see breeze, the projectile is spinning and crashing into the edge of the stone wall, generally speaking, the 9mm Parabellum pistol round is unable to penetrate the stone wall completely, but when it’s shot from an oblique angle, the projectile is one hundred per cent sure of penetration and kills.
They won’t give a single early chance to the e***********aunch an attack, their target capturing rate was one hundred during these time, and their four men team got no single casualty.
As you are going to ask where the fourth member is.
“Puff, puff” Here comes the moans when rifle rounds drilling into human’s body, if you are going to find the source of these 7.62mm NATO shots, you better check it out with the fourth team member in the radio.
“Two Targets down.” There is a voice in the radio, “Clear to go.”
As usual, the three men keep moving forward, return as how they enter.
On the way back.
“Who’s next?” this is the voice of the easterner.
The sound of rummaging files rings like that’s an order.
“Simon Mathews.”
Placid sea breeze blows every corner of British Isles, at the time when the policemen arrived, the smell of the gunpowder had been blown away. The name noticed unconsciously, sowed the seeds of catastrophes in the future.
ao3fog
