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he was going to go. Mahood turned on his heels and ran back towards his bedroom at the front of the house, he would jump clean through the window if he had to.
    As Foster moved inside the room, the torch on his MP5 lit up the corners of the large bedroom, revealing a king sized bed, sofa and walk in wardrobe, all of which would need checking. Knowing full well that O'Keeffe and MacNeil would carry out a swift search behind him, Foster moved towards the door whilst trying to recall the floor plan in his head as to what lay beyond it. With less than ten feet to go, Foster raised his MP5 up so that it was ready to cover the door in preparation of O'Keeffe and MacNeil joining him to move into the hallway.
    Just before he reached it, the door abruptly and without warning burst open, startling Foster in the process. His huge, surprised eyes locked on the dark figure marauding into the room. In the split second that he caught a glimpse of the figure, Foster knew it was Mahood.
    BANG, BANG the sound of the MP5 discharging two 9mm rounds reverberated around the room. Mahood who was still in full flight was sent tumbling into the dresser adjacent to the bed, sending photo frames and ornaments smashing through the air in his wake. He crashed to the floor with a thud, making no effort to break his own fall and came to a rest face down.
    The first 9mm round had torn through Mahood's jugular causing the large artery to blast a large volume of blood equal to the English channel across the floor. The second had entered his chest cavity, deflating his right lung in the process and inducing a catastrophic bleed inside his chest cavity that would have been impossible to stem.
    Foster instantaneously felt a deep sinking feeling as he realised what had just happened; he had shot a man, and perhaps killed him. MacNeil ran past him and covered the door as O'Keeffe started carrying out first aid on Mahood's motionless body. They could have had all the equipment necessary to carry out open heart surgery but it still wouldn't have saved Mahood. He was now nothing more than another dead terrorist.
    “Where's the gun, where's the gun?” Foster desperately asked O'Keeffe who unable to see the gun, didn't answer.
    “I know I saw a gun, I'm sure I saw a gun!” Foster repeated again and again.
    But there wasn't a gun! As a result of the door unexpectedly flying open in the darkness, a surprised Foster had reacted to movement and instinctively fired off two shots in a panic at the emerging figure of Mahood who was dead before he hit the floor.
    “I've screwed up, shit what am I going to do. He wasn't armed!!” Foster continued.
    Downstairs, Marriot with PC Alex Moore, an officer in his twenties, and Conan were rapidly clearing the remaining rooms without a sign of the other suspects. Until all six men were accounted for and the building was declared a hundred percent clear, there was still a threat. The three officers reached the kitchen which was the last room to be searched, still totally oblivious to the situation unfolding upstairs only feet above their heads. Marriot checked the door.
    “It's locked Conan, sort it out” Marriot commanded.
    Conan moved up to the door and aimed his shot gun at the top hinge, waiting to blow it off when his two colleagues were ready in position to move in neutralise whoever was inside. However, Jennings who was on the other side of the door had other ideas and like Mahood, he was not going to come quietly. He grabbed the AK47 that he had been cleaning, loaded it and cocked it, placing a round into the chamber ready to be fired at anyone or anything that showed itself through the door. From his training with the Taliban and rebels, Jennings knew that a stun grenade would come crashing into the room first, so he trained his rifle on the doorway and closed his eyes to prevent him being blinded by the flash. He would then wait a split second before pulling the trigger, knowing for a certainty that the officers would be