Mitchell pointed his assault rifle at her. 'Shut up!' he hissed.
Shepherd reached out and pushed the barrel of Mitchell's gun to the side. 'It's okay,' he said.
'It's not okay,' said Lloyd-Davies.
'I told you, shut the fuck up and close your eyes!' shouted Mitchell.
O'Brien patted Mitchell's shoulder. 'Come on,' he said.
Mitchell nodded, and followed O'Brien out of the bubble and into the secure corridor.
Shepherd gave Lloyd-Davies one last look. 'I'm sorry,' he said.
'You're throwing your life away.'
Shepherd shifted Carpenter's weight. 'It's my life,' he said. He turned and left the bubble.
Armstrong scannedthe CCTV monitors. There were more than a dozen each divided into four views, with three showing full screen images. From where he was he could see the wall, the secure corridor, the offices, the hospital wing and interior views of all the blocks.
He watched O'Brien, Mitchell and Shepherd leave the bubble and run into the secure corridor. He could also see the white van, with Shortt at the wheel.
On one of the spurs on Block C, a female officer was walking along the top level, checking the spyhole at all the cells.
On Block D, two officers were standing on the ground floor, laughing.
O'Brien and Mitchell reached a corner of the secure corridor and waited for Shepherd to catch up.
Armstrong grinned: Shepherd was panting under the weight of the man on his shoulders. Then he saw movement on one of the monitors.
'Gamma, hold your positions,' he said, into his microphone. 'We might have a problem.'
Lloyd-Davies rolled over so that she was facing Morrison. 'Paul, are you okay?'
Morrison's eyes were tightly shut, and his whole body was trembling. 'Have they gone?' he whispered.
'Yeah. It's over.'
Morrison opened his eyes. Tears ran down his cheeks. 'Jo, I think I've wet myself.'
'It's okay, Paul. I was scared too. There'd be something wrong if you weren't.'
'What did they want?'
Lloyd-Davies realised he hadn't seen Shepherd and Carpenter leave with the men in ski masks, and that she didn't have time to explain now what had happened. They had to sound the alarm.
She rolled on to her back and sat up. Her radio was on the desk but she doubted that she could operate it with her hands tied behind her back.
'How did they get in?' asked Morrison.
It was a good question. Had they come in over the wall? Lloyd-Davies wondered. Dropped in by helicopter? Or come storming in through the front gate? Did anyone else in the prison know that armed men were on the loose? 'Help me get up,' said Lloyd-Davies. 'Sit back to back and push.'
Morrison rolled over and sat up, then shuffled around so that his back was against hers.
'On three,' she said. She counted aloud, then they pushed hard and raised themselves. Almost immediately Morrison lost his balance and fell back against a filing cabinet, cursing.
Lloyd-Davies looked at the monitors. There was no sign of the men, so they must have left the block. That meant the only prisoners they'd released had been Shepherd and Carpenter. An armed robber and a drug-dealer. Where was the logic in that? Armed men in ski masks meant terrorists, but most of the terrorists were in the Special Secure Unit on the far side of the prison. None of this made any sense.
'Gamma, you have two prison guards heading your way.' Armstrong's voice crackled in O'Brien's earpiece.
'Shit,' said Mitchell.
Shepherd looked at the two men. 'What's wrong?' he asked. He leaned against the wall, allowing it to take some of Carpenter's weight.
O'Brien pressed a finger to his lips, then pointed down the corridor and held up two fingers.
'Alpha, how far away?' he asked.
'Gamma, one hundred metres from the corner ahead of you,' said Armstrong.
'Alpha, have they got radios?'
'Gamma, affirmative.'
O'Brien cursed under his breath. The two prison officers might be going to another block or the administration centre. Or they might be leaving, which meant they'd buzz the gatehouse to unlock the door from the secure corridor. If they went to the administration block, he and the team would be in the clear, but either of the other two options meant the officers would have to be confronted and overpowered. They wouldn't be able to summon help from outside the prison but they could use their radios to call colleagues from other blocks.
O'Brien glanced at his watch. Time was running out. 'Alpha, if they stop at the door, let me know.'
'Gamma, will do.'
O'Brien made a clenched fist, telling Mitchell and Shepherd to wait.
Lloyd-Davies groped for the radio. As her fingers closed round it she saw the alarm button on the wall and decided it was a better bet. She hopped over towards it. It was on the wall next to the monitors at shoulder height so she couldn't reach it with her bound hands. She tried to hit it with her shoulder but failed. She cursed, then pressed it with her forehead but that didn't work either. She tried again and fell forward, banging her nose against the wall. She felt blood spurt from her nostrils and blinked away tears. She pushed herself away from the wall, then hopped as close to the desk as she could get and allowed herself to fall forward. Her nose slammed into the button and she felt the cartilage crack. Tears streamed down her face and mixed with the blood, but she heard the alarms burst into life and smiled despite the pain.
O'Brien swore as the alarms went off. 'Where are they, Gamma?' Mitchell was looking back the way they'd come, cradling his rifle and shifting from foot to foot.
'Still heading your way,' said Armstrong. 'They're about fifty feet from the corner where you are.'
'We're going to have to take them,' said O'Brien. 'Are you ready, Beta?'
'Let's do it,' said Mitchell.
O'Brien put a hand on Shepherd's arm. 'Are you okay?' Shepherd nodded. 'We'll rush them but, whatever happens, you keep going, okay?'
Shepherd nodded again.
'Gamma, they're running your way.'
O'Brien jerked his head at Mitchell, then pointed down the corridor. Both men started to run. Shepherd hurried after them.
As they rounded the corner, they saw the two prison officers heading towards them. They were big men with the build of rugby players. They stopped dead when they saw O'Brien and Mitchell.
O'Brien pointed his gun at the men. 'Down on the floor!' he shouted.
The men didn't move, too shocked to react. Mitchell stepped forward, his finger on the trigger of his AKM-63. 'Do it -
The mengot downonthe floor andlay there, spreadeagled. Mitchell bound the wrists of one. O'Brien told Shepherd to go on ahead and knelt down to tie up the second.
Overhead, the alarms were ringing, but O'Brien knew they were internal with no connection to the authorities outside the prison. It was an inconvenience but they were in the end phase now: a few unarmed prison officers wouldn't stop them.
Shepherd ran along the corridor. Carpenter was moaning, but he wasn't moving. Ahead he saw the door that led out of the secure corridor to the courtyard, then heard rapid footsteps behind him and turned. O'Brien and Mitchell were running towards him. The two officers were on the floor, face down, their hands tied behind their backs.
He wondered if the alarm had been sounded back in Block B or if the problem lay ahead, at the gatehouse. His heart was pounding and his back ached from Carpenter's weight. He stopped at the door.
O'Brien skidded to a halt and jabbed at the intercom button to the left of it. 'Alpha, ready for exit!' he shouted.
Mitchell ran up behind O'Brien. The lock clicked and O'Brien shouldered open the door. Then he put his hand
