This meant more time had to be spent on the ground, on foot or in cars.Almost inevitably, one of their operators was spotted by Adair’s minders. As he walked past Mad Dog’s house, the Det man was rushed by three men. He pulled his 9mm Browning and shot his way out, leaving behind two wounded men. This incident had a profound effect on Adair, who was convinced the Army was out to kill him. If an unknown car passed him more than once, he would point at it and shout “SAS, SAS” at the top of his voice.By early 1994, the IRA was quietly laying foundations for its ceasefire with the British government.
The RUC took down the beer barrels at night, and Adair put them up by day. Eventually, the road was officially closed.By the end of 1992, Adair had become the most important paramilitary figure in north Belfast. At times of particularly high tension, he would meet leaders of other UDA hit teams to co-ordinate attacks. His increasing prominence and charmed life only enhanced the fears of Catholics in nearby areas.
“To Catholics I worked with, he was the ultimate bogeyman,” said a Protestant. “They saw him everywhere and blamed him for everything.”It was the British army that clashed with him next. The intelligence community had failed to penetrate Adair’s tight security; it decided a military operation was needed. Adair appeared on Ulster news broadcasts demanding that the road should be sealed off “to protect innocent Protestants from assassination”. Unknown to them, the house was owned by a Protestant man who carried a legal firearm after surviving an IRA attempt on his life.The IRA men were waiting for Adairwhen the Protestant pulled his pistol.



