“Team Two CQ," came Hans' voice on the walkie-talkie. He and Marcel were in the overhead ventilation duct above Command, which had been depicted in great detail in the blueprints. Hugo Voorst had been left to fend for himself, while Willem had split off with Dimitri Spiros, forming Team Three.
“Team Three CQ," Willem reported next. "Ingress looks like a go." He and Dimitri were at the rear exit, which passed through Bill Bates' office. They had entered through the tunnel that connected Bates' office and the living quarters. The door had been set with C-4 and was ready to blow.
"Copy. Team One CQ," Armont whispered into his own radio. He and Reginald Hall were now in the outer lobby, and just ahead of them stood the doors that led into Command. Together the teams formed a three-pronged attack that would seal off all egress. "Take down anybody with anything in their hands. And watch out for Michael. I don't think he's in there, but you never can tell."
"If he is," Willem Voorst's voice said, "he'll know what to do."
As they waited, Reggie gazed around Reception in disgust. The deserted guard desk looked as though it had been strafed by an automatic, almost as if the terrorists intentionally were wreaking as much destruction as possible.
"Cheeky bastards," he muttered under his breath. "Why do these terrorist blokes always think they've got to trash a place?"
"Reggie," Armont whispered back, "these gentlemen did not attend Eton. You have to learn to make allowances. And right now they appear to be trying to deliver an atomic bomb into somebody's backyard, which would tend to suggest they're not model citizens. One has to expect a disheartening want of tidiness in such an element." He checked his watch. "All right, get ready."
Ahead of them the doors to Command were closed-who knew if they were locked or even booby-trapped? But it didn't matter. The C-4 had already been attached around the frame. Exploding it and the other door opposite would serve as a diversion, drawing the first fire and giving Hans and Marcel the moment they needed to make their own ingress, rappelling in under cover of flash grenades and mopping up.
That was the plan, at any rate. A three-point entry, with flash grenades and tear gas. It usually worked.
Armont clicked on his walkie-talkie again and checked his watch. "All teams alert. Assault begins in three-zero seconds. Starting now."