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Lima Two 0

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Lima Two 0 sees a covert SAS mission to infiltrate a rogue Islamic cell operating out of a mosque in Luton. The only problem is that the target is right next door to Luton Town FC's ground - and the Boss is a keen supporter. There's only one man in Air Troop capable of such a tricky HALO op. Read on.


Sergeant Mal 'Mac' McNulty of B Squadron's Air Troop sweated under the oxygen mask clamped to his face. He needed it as he was about to exit the RAF Hercules at 50,000ft. His mission was simple: infil, engage and exfil without anyone noticing. It was a dangerous operation and one that only he could pull off. His earpiece crackled in to life. "One minute!" The kite had already decompressed and now the ramp of the aircraft slowly lowered, the hydraulic whine of the servos barely audible over the deep drone of the four Allison turboprops.

The ramp jarred to a halt as McNulty lowered his goggles in the subdued red glow of the aircraft's interior. He pensively watched the warning lights. A voice in his earpiece said "Thirty seconds Mac. Make sure you slot a few of the fuckers for us too, eh?" Mac smiled under his mask, he'd known Ken the Loadie for years now . Ken had been his first dispatcher when he was back in the 'Green Army'.

Mac shuffled forward to the edge of the ramp, the slipstream tugging at his electrically-heated clothing. It was cold too, probably minus sixty. No worries, it wouldn't be long now. The red light flicked off and was replaced by green. Go! Mac spun as he leapt from the aircraft, a perfect pirouette exit which gave Ken the perfect photo opportunity. One for the Crew Room wall.

Mac watched the black shape of the Herc peel quickly away as he plummeted earthwards at 120mph. It was a clear night and Luton was spread out below like a cheap whore, its myriad lights twinkling like a million diamonds on a black velvet cushion. The rush of air past his helmet was deafening as he tracked across the sky searching for the DZ. No easy task, but the satnav projection on to the inside of his goggles made it look like a giant moving street map.

There it was, a dark rectangle - unlit as predicted. Kenilworth Road, Luton Town's ground was the perfect DZ, and almost right next to the target - the Al Jihadi mosque. The barometric opening device automatically opened the 'chute at 150ft. He was right above the ground and descending rapidly. He dropped his bergen and made a quick calculation. The wind necessitated a quick directional change and Mac pulled down on his steering line for a perfect 180 in to the light wind just before touching down bang on the centre spot.

Mac quickly removed the harness and glanced quickly at his Traser® watch. Perfect timing, and another top job from Crab Air. "The beers are on you Ken." chortled Mac. He removed the silenced MP5K from his bergen and packed the lightweight 'chute in to the available space he'd deliberately left. Mac snapped on a full mag of 9mm and readied the weapon. Suddenly a voice shouted "Oi you! What the fuck do you think you're up to?" It was a security guard. Mac hadn't anticipated this. There was no time, and no option. He had to be silenced. Mac leveled the Hockler, the beam of red laser light dancing on the target's forehead, and emptied a stream of lead in to the hapless night watchman. The guards head exploded in a shower of crimson as thirty rounds of premium parabellum silently tore through his swede.

It was an unfortunate waste of ammunition, but vital and necessary for OPSEC. Anyhow, the silly cnut should've stuck to collaring chavs at Sainsbury's. "Sorry chum!" Mac smiled, an apportunity to waste someone was never an opportunity missed. "Now for some real fun" laughed Mac "and time to send those murderous, plotting bastards on a one way trip to Allah!" Mac slung his bergen over his shoulders, stepped over the twitching corpse and tabbed off towards the exit. It was going to be a long night.


Panned by some as a waste of ink, nevertheless Lima Two 0 is a rip-roaring actioner, and one which puts Clunge right up there within the 'pantheon' of other literary greats such as Salman Rushdie. This was the work - the content of which caused much offence within certain quarters of society - that landed a fatwah on Clunge's arse. Good on him!


Another malodorous epic from Cyril Clunge - Mick McStab ex-21 SAS (V)

Nails - Chris Ryan

Clunge is a dead man - Sultan Mahmood bin Jihadi