Influence Read Online Free PDF Page B

were they waiting for?'. Marriot, confused himself, looked back at Jones and nodded with a slow calmness, signalling to him to remain sharp and to face forwards again.
    “STRIKE, STRIKE, STRIKE” Murray abruptly boomed out over the radio with Phelps screaming that he should have given the team some warning after the unexplained long wait.
    The members of Red and Blue team jumped to attention like racehorses reacting to a starter pistol as the instantaneous call of strike took them by surprise. The armoured Land Rover's powerful engine roared into action as the vehicle raced towards the front of the house. At the same time Blue team ran up to the front door as Simpson's second section of Red team slammed their ladder against the wall and began rapidly scaling it. Within seconds of the Land Rover arriving at its destination, O'Keeffe sent the ladder on top of the vehicle crashing against the front of the house, landing with pin point precision beneath the main bedroom window seal. Without any delay they flew up it as if the four stone of kit they were wearing was as light as a feather.
    BANG, BANG, BANG. The sound of 'Conan' blowing off the front door's hinges echoed around them. The door had barely come to a rest on the floor before Collins threw a stun grenade into the hallway, the device delivered nine loud bangs and vision distorting flashes before Blue team charged in after it. As if part of a well-choreographed ballet, Evans and MacNeil, Red team's SMOE officers, simultaneously placed their charges against the double glazed windows above their heads and detonated them.
    BOOM, BOOM the percussion of the explosions echoed out into the distance. The combined flash of the charges making the lane momentarily appear as though it was day, lighting up each and every one of the black clad, respirator wearing officers smashing their way inside.
    Inside, Jennings fell to the floor clutching his throbbing ears that were suffering with ringing akin to an extreme bout of tinnitus from the explosions. In the front room the four middle eastern men cowered down low in fear. Collins joined by Jones and Palmer entered the room after throwing yet another stun grenade, the ear drum bursting bangs sent the four men reeling to the ground, unable to deal with the hardcore assault on their senses. With the room spinning, the men opened their eyes just in time to see two large, blurred shadowy figures flying into the room.
    “POLICE, DOWN ON THE FLOOR NOW, GET DOWN, GET DOWN!” Collins and Palmer screamed at the four men who were in no position to do anything else.
    Semi-blind, with their ears still ringing, the four men laid face down on the floor with their hands on their heads. Any remaining fight they may have had (if there had been any in the first place) was now completely gone. Jones stood in the door way, covering the hall whilst being ready to move in and assist them should they have required it.
    Above their heads, the two sections of Red team barrelled into the house through the destroyed windows, guns raised up as each and every one of them jumped off their ladders and into the rooms, preceded by more stun grenades. Once inside they progressively began smashing their way through their respective pre-determined 'limits of exploitation', a term used by firearms officers to describe a designated area where a team would work within, and not beyond, preventing them from running into each other.
    Mahood fell against the bathroom wall, startled by the sudden explosions. He knew what was going on from the very second it had started. There was no way he was going to spend the rest of his life in a cell, so he composed himself and burst out of the bathroom into the hallway looking for a safe route to escape through. As he paused to quickly weigh up his options, he could just about hear the voices of Simpson, Allen and Evans calling out to each other from inside a bedroom to his right through his dulled hearing. This was definitely not the way