Hetman: Hard Kil Read Online Free PDF Page B

Grew. The room became silent.
    Fox shouldered the AK. “Aidan I’m Sorry, I had to make it look real – it was the only option. We couldn’t get away.”
    “I figured that out, eventually.” Snow drank some more. “I could have slotted you, I almost did.”
    Fox grinned and crossed to the window. “What happened to one in the barn?”
    “I slotted him.”
    “Good.”
    “I snapped his neck.”
    “He killed Fannon.”
    “Him?”
    “Aye. Marty here told me. The kid was a real psycho – why do you think McCracken recruited him?” Fox turned and leant back against the Belfast sink.
    Snow pointed at McCracken’s mobile, still sitting on the worktop. “We need to phone in and tell them about McCracken.”
    “And the IED they’ve gift wrapped for Taylor. But first this gob-shite here is going to give us the name of the RUC turncoat who let us through the cordon.”
    “Keep dreaming Paddy. I know my rights.”
    “Left.”
    “What?”
    “Shoot him in the left, Aidan.”
    Snow pulled the trigger and sent a single round into Grew’s thigh.
    “Ya feckin crazy man!” Grew rolled sideways, holding his thigh. “Ya going to feckin pay.”
    “Sorry, I meant to say his right.” Fox shrugged.
    Snow adjusted the aim of the Makarov.
    “O’Briain! Brendan O’Briain that’s the bugger’s name!”
    “Now that wasn’t so hard was it? Where’s McCracken running too, Marty?
    “Yer out of your mind if you think…”
    Snow fired again. This time the round smashed a floor tile next to Grew’s groin. “I shouldn’t drink and shoot.”
    “The Republic.”
    “Where?” Snow pointed the Makarov at Grew’s head.
    “He’s got a safe house – Dolan set it up.”
    Fox nodded. “Marty, one more question, before we put away the guns. I promise. How is your ma?”
    “What?” Grew was confused. “She’s fine. Why do you want to know?”
    “Does she still have that problem with her legs?”
    “What problem?”
    “You know, being unable to keep em closed!”
    “You dirty bastard!”
    “Dirty Sass bastard.” Fox looked at Snow and grinned.

Palace Barracks, Holywood, Northern Ireland.
    Snow sat alone in the mostly empty canteen and nursed his coffee. Examined by an army doctor who had diagnosed a concussion and bruised spine, he had been given strong pain killers and told to rest up for a week.
    After a few hours’ sleep however, Snow had pronounced himself fit for service. He closed his eyes momentarily and when he opened them Fox was sitting opposite.
    “You OK?”
    Snow nodded and wished that he hadn’t. “It tickles a bit.”
    “That’s not what I meant.”
    “I dunno Paddy.”
    Fox’s voice became stern as he stared at the young trooper. “They had guns; they both would have used them on you. You’ve been bloodied. It’s Darwinian, better for you to be walking and talking than them.”
    “You’re right.”
    “Course I am. Look, if I told you that killing a man doesn’t change you I’d be telling porkies. But that’s what we’re trained for, isn’t it? Saving lives by, if necessary, taking others. You know that. ”
    “Yes.” It wasn’t a line that the MOD liked to publish, but it was true nonetheless.
    “Now listen, daft bollocks. I’ve just seen Lancing. The IED’s been neutralised, we’ve got McCracken’s men so Taylor gets to live.”
    “Great.” Snow meant it. Taylor was no gun wielding madman; he was a citizen who had a right to openly express his opinions. Whether or not Snow agreed with Taylor’s opinions was not the issue. McCracken’s men had no right to use force to silence him.
    “But, the Garda have arrested Dolan.”
    “Bugger.”
    “Aye, bugger indeed.” Fox muttered. The police in the Irish Republic were as eager as the RUC to make the ceasefire work, but in his experience their enthusiasm would probably mess things up. He cursed again, this time more at himself for failing to stop McCracken at the farmhouse. “That means we can kiss goodbye to Jimmy