Fighting Scared
Para, Mercenary, SAS, Sniper, Bodyguard
FIGHTING SCARED
Para, Mercenary, SAS, Sniper, Bodyguard
Robin Horsfall
Copyright © Robin Horsfall 2002
Acknowledgements
It took me six years to write Fighting Scared. During that time, the final chapters of the book actually took place. There were only a few individuals who influenced me, and it is important that I convey my thanks to them.
Thanks to: Ineke Allez who persuaded me that I had to write the story alone, without assistance; to Diana Lovell-Pank and Elizabeth Sinclair House who read, encouraged and advised on the text; and to Ian Paten for providing the literary polish that turned a story into a book.
Finally, I have to thank my wife Heather, who helped me to express my inner feelings so that I could say how I felt and not just report what happened. She never gave up and always remained positive. Without her, I would never have finished.
Foreword
READERS OF THIS book should understand that the story is told from memory. If you were there, it may have been different; memories become rose-tinted with the years. Three incidents have deliberate misinformation to avoid identifying individuals and some names have been changed. Most surnames were avoided for reasons of security.
Fighting Scared conveys how I felt at the time. If I was proud of my violent behaviour then, I am not now. If I disliked or resented an individual then, it is unlikely that I feel the same way today.
First Kill
THE TWO MASKED men had forced the lock on the back door of the redbrick terraced house and entered through the kitchen. It was 3 a.m.; the house was still and quiet. They knew the way to the main bedroom- all these Belfast two-up, two-downs were the same, and it did not take a Ph.D. to figure out in which bedroom the adults were sleeping. They crept up the creaking stairs and slowly opened the door. The man sat up in bed. Believing it to be one of the children from the other room, he asked, in a calm voice, 'What is it?'
The two men fired together, one with a sawn-off shotgun, the other with an automatic pistol. The bullets and shot spread blood across the sheets as their intended victim rolled onto the floor and lay still. As the firing stopped, the penetrating sound of a baby crying filled the room. The gunmen were gone, down the stairs and out through the back door to the waiting getaway car.