As Rosemary Nelson lay critically injured from the car bomb, her sister held her hand and begged her not to die.
Nelson's legs had been blown away and her stomach ripped apart in the blast. But she was still conscious and the ambulance was on its way.
"I told her to hang on in there," says Bernie McQuillan. "I told her she was a fighter, had been all her life, and this was the biggest fight she'd ever have."
It was one battle Rosemary Nelson – outspoken solicitor, police critic, and mother-of-three, lost. She died in hospital two hours later.
Nelson was the North's best known female solicitor. In a divided community, she provoked strong emotions. "She might have been a hate figure for loyalists and some in the security forces, she might have been a heroine for nationalists, but to us she was just Rosie," says McQuillan.
Tomorrow (Monday), the report of the inquiry into allegations of security force collusion in the 40-year-old lawyer's murder will be published. The £46 million investigation has lasted six years.
"We haven't a clue what's in the report, we're very anxious about it," says McQuillan. "We approached the inquiry with hope more than faith. We can only wait and see now."
On 15 March 1999, Nelson got into her car to drive from her Lurgan home to the office. She braked at the bottom of her street, opposite the primary school where her eight-year-old daughter, Sarah, was playing. A massive bomb exploded under her car.
McQuillan, who lived only 100 yards away, heard the bang and ran to the horrific scene. The Red Hand Defenders, which had never previously made anything more sophisticated than a pipe bomb, claimed responsibility.
Suspicions of security force collusion grew. "We weren't a naturally campaigning family, Rosie was the bolshie one but we've tried our best since her murder to find out the truth. We'll get the report about two hours before it's publicly released. Then we'll know whether Rosie has got justice."
McQuillan doesn't recognise her sister from the image of the very serious, human rights' solicitor that comes across publicly. "Rosie was hugely committed to her work but there was much more to her than that.
"She was full of life. She was never in her car without a CD blaring. She loved to talk. She had a wicked sense of humour."
A journalist once asked Nelson how she relaxed after a hard day's work. "By preparing French cuisine for the family," she replied. "We had a good laugh when we read that," recalls McQuillan. "Our Rosie had many attributes – cooking wasn't one of them."
Contrary to the stereotype of the no-nonsense, professional woman, Nelson loved to shop. Her weaknesses were shoes and jewellery. "You name it, Rosie bought it," says McQuillan.
Nelson's work brought her into direct conflict with the authorities. She represented Portadown's Garvaghy Road residents. She'd be on the streets to the wee small hours. One photo shows the petite, fair-haired solicitor remonstrating with a wall of riot-clad RUC men.
She acted for the family of Robert Hamill who was kicked to death by loyalist in 1997 in full view of police. Her most famous client was leading republican Colin Duffy. Her sister says she'd have represented anybody who came to her.
LVF leader Billy Wright wanted her dead. When Wright himself was murdered in the H-Blocks in 1997 in controversial circumstances, Nelson told her sister there should be an inquiry. "If Billy Wright's father David had walked into her office and asked her to represent him, she'd have agreed, no problem," McQuillan says.
Nelson had her own personal demons. There were extensive rumours that a scar on the left side of her face was caused when a bomb she was making exploded prematurely.
It was a total lie. A childhood operation to remove a birthmark had gone wrong, causing both the scar and a droopy eyelid. Some police called her 'scarface', 'half-face' and 'one-eyed Nelson'.
She established an advice centre in Lurgan to help victims of domestic violence and those on state benefits. Unlike other lawyers, she didn't always keep a professional distance from those in need.
There were constant out-of-hours visits to clients' homes. Anyone suffering particular stress would be offered a break in her mobile home in Donegal. "We heard of husbands or wives visiting her office to start divorce proceedings and Rosie talking them out of it. Even now people stop us on the street to tell us what she did for them," says McQuillan.
Most saw her as a friend, not a solicitor. "She was totally selfless," says fellow solicitor, Joe Rice. "She would go the extra mile for her clients. She would have represented anybody regardless of class, colour or creed.
"She had a huge heart. The last thing she was concerned with was money or legal aid. She was a tremendous example to the rest of us."
Another friend, solicitor Padraigin Drinan, says: "Rosemary was far more sensitive than people thought. She would get upset about the scar on her face. But she had such a big personality that those of us who knew her didn't even notice it."
Nelson "worked hard and partied hard", Drinan says. "But it's sometimes forgotten how much she loved her family. I remember her showing me, with great pride, this cheap wee plastic key-ring her kids had bought her that said 'Best Mum in the World'."
Near the end of her life, the threats against Nelson came in thick and fast. One letter read: "We have you in our sights, republican bastard RIP." A bullet arrived in the post. Nelson would soon be "a dead IRA f**ker", a telephone caller warned.
Most chilling were threats some police made to Nelson's clients which contained unfounded sexual innuendoes. Client I was allegedly told "PIRA b*****d, you're dead. Tell Rosemary, she's going to die too."
Client F alleged police called Nelson "A terrorist with a deformed face". He was accused of "seeing" her: "They said I was a game bastard as she had a face on her like a man's ball bag."
Her family remains deeply hurt by such demonisation. They blame senior RUC figures, claiming it was "an attitude from the top down, not the bottom up".
Nelson complained to police. Amnesty International and others wrote to the RUC and British government demanding action be taken. "Those in authority did nothing," says McQuillan.
No-one has ever been charged in connection with the murder. Her alleged killers' names circulate openly in Co Armagh. Suspects include two Special Branch informers and a soldier serving in the British Army at the time of the killing who has since left the military.
"There are so many questions about Rosie's murder," says McQuillan. "We hope that some will be answered tomorrow."
