Day of Reckoning (18 page)

'You think this is cash, Dermot? It's not, it's power.
With money you can do anything, and there's almost
three million here.'
'What about Fox, Brendan? You know what I mean? What
you owe him?'
'Hey, stuff Fox. Look what happened at Al Shariz. It was a total fuck-up, and all because of Fox. It must have been. I
mean, how were the Israelis on to us? I know it wasn't me.'
'So you aren't going to pay him what you owe him?'
Am I, hell.' Murphy locked the safe and put the car
pet back.
'What if he makes trouble, Brendan?'
Murphy laughed. 'Make trouble for me, the Mafia? Dermot,
this is Ireland, the one place in the world where they're
powerless. We're the ones with power, Dermot, you and
me, so let's get on with it and go and crack a bottle and
have a decent supper at the Patriot.'
They all sat round the saloon in the
Highlander,
a large-scale
map laid across the table.
'Kilbeg village,' Dillon said. 'The abbey is quarter of a mile
to the east. The bunker is underneath.' He tapped the map.
'There, where the site of a ruined farmhouse is indicated, is,
according to Sean here, the exit to the bunker.' He looked at
Regan, who sat on one of the bench seats, wrists manacled.
'Isn't that so, Sean?'
'To hell with you,' Regan said.
'So how do you intend to play this?' Helen Black asked.
'Well, according to Regan, there are only two caretakers
in the bunker. I intend to act very quickly, very economi
cally. Blow the exit door, go in, dispose of them, and leave
a hundred-pound block of Semtex to take the place out. They're storing Semtex there as well as arms. It'll be like Bonfire Night.'
'Which, if I'm not mistaken, celebrates Guy Fawkes
failing
to blow up Parliament,' Hannah Bernstein said.
'Well, I won't fail.'
'What about me?' Billy asked.
'You can watch my back,' Dillon said. 'Guard the exit door
after I go in.'
'Oh, great. So I'm standing around like a ponce.'
'Don't be a silly boy, Billy. I'll need you watching out
for me.'
'So how do you intend to do it?' Helen asked.
'Right, there's the pier that used to serve the old granite
quarry. Yachtsmen call in here occasionally and usually
anchor in the bay, according to Roper's information. What
we'll do is this. We'll take the boat in to the pier, you in
charge, Sergeant Major. Billy and I will wear diving suits.
We'll offload diving equipment onto the pier, in case we
have to come back the hard way. You will take
Highlander
a hundred yards out into the bay, and anchor.'
'Fine,' Helen said.
'Billy and I will have transceivers, and so will you, so
we'll be in touch. The farmhouse is what, a quarter of a
mile away? This will be the ultimate in-and-out job. With luck, it'll be so clean that I'll call and bring you into the
pier to pick us up.' He smiled and turned to Billy. 'No need
to get your feet wet.'
'Well, that's nice. It's bleeding cold out there.'
Dillon turned to Sean Regan, sitting there, sullen, on the bench, manacled hands on his knees.
'Now we come to your part, son. Is there anything you
haven't told me?'
'I've told you everything I know.'
'I hope so, for your sake, because if you haven't you're
dead in the water. And that's not just a figure of speech.'
He turned to the others. 'Right, people, that's the way it is,
so let's get it done.'
It was nine o'clock and pitch dark when they drifted in, the engines a muted throbbing. Dillon left it to Helen Black. She
steered one-handed, holding a pair of Nightstalkers to her
eyes, and hardly touched the pier. In a second, Dillon was
over with a line and ran it round a bollard.
'Right, Billy, pass the gear up.'
Billy wrestled with air bottles and other things and Dillon stacked them on the pier.
'All right, son, let's have you.'
Billy joined him. 'First time in Ireland, and what a bloody place.'
'The hob of hell, Billy.' Dillon called to Helen Black. 'On your way.'
The
Highlander
moved out and Dillon checked his transceiver. 'Hey, you still love me, Superintendent?'
'Don't be silly,' she replied, and then added. 'For God's
sake, Dillon . . .'
'I know, take care. Well, here we go to save the British
way of life. An Irish gunman and a well-known London
gangster. Why is it that people like us have to do it?'
He switched off, checked his Uzi, and slung it across his chest. Billy did the same. Dillon checked his Walther, and,
again, Billy did the same. Having heard Dillon talking on
the transceiver, he said, 'Do you know the answer? Why
is
it people like us have to do it?'
'Billy, a great English writer once said – it's ironic that
when it comes down to it – that it's men of a rough per
suasion who have to do all the hard things that the general
population are incapable of doing, and then the general
population disowns them. It's called being a soldier.'
'But I'm not a bleeding soldier.'
'You're a gangster, Billy. It's the same thing, so shut up
and follow me.'
On board the
Highlander,
Hannah obeyed Helen Black's
orders and dropped the anchor. Below, Sean Regan sat on
the bench, manacled, and thought about things. He was a
practical man, and had survived for many years in the Irish struggle by being so.
However, try as he could, Dillon's reputation wouldn't go
away and it was that of the ultimate hard man. The Brits used him on situations they didn't want to go to court. If
he was on your case, you were dead.
With the best will in the world, Regan couldn't imagine a
fate other than being tossed over the side into the Irish Sea,
a convenient corpse, and there was no way he could risk that.
A desperate plan came to him, and before he could hesitate,
he acted. He knocked a tray bearing a teapot and cups off the table and fell on his knees.
A moment later, Hannah appeared. 'What is it?'
'My gut's killing me. I think it must be those seasick
ness pills.'
She crouched and checked him out. 'That bad?'
'I need the necessary. For God's sake, I might mess
myself.'
She pulled him up and took him out to the lavatory. He held out his hands. 'Come on, you can't move in there. I couldn't get my trousers down with these things on.'
She hesitated, then took out her key, uncuffed him,
and pushed him inside. She stood against the wall and
waited.
Regan sat down, breathed deeply, then stood up, shoved the door open hard, catching Hannah and knocking her
against the wall. He went up the companionway fast, ran
out on deck, past Helen Black as she emerged from the
wheelhouse, and vaulted over the rail. The cold March Irish
Sea took his breath away, but he struck out for the shore with all his strength and vanished into the dark.
Hannah appeared on deck. 'Goddammit, he conned me. I
was such a fool.'
'Happens to us all.' Helen Black tried her transceiver. 'Dillon, are you there?'
But in the valley area up from the cliffs the signal was
poor, and there was no reply.
Sean Regan hit the shore, colder than he'd ever been in his life, and immediately started to run, making his way up the cliff path and turning for Kilbeg. He burst into the Patriot fifteen minutes later. There were three drinkers at the bar, Conolly and Tomelty two of them.
He fell across the bar in front of Sullivan, and Tomelty raised his head by his hair. Regan said, 'Thank God you're here. We've got trouble.'
'Well, tell the man here.'
Regan turned and saw Murphy get up from the bench before the fire.
'Why, Sean, I thought the Brits had you in Wandsworth. How in the hell did you get here?'
Suddenly, Regan realized he was in deep trouble here, too,
and tried to recover. 'Never mind that, Brendan. Dillon's here, Sean Dillon. He's here to destroy the bunker.'
'Really?' Murphy said. 'But how would he know? Have you been shooting your gob off?'
'Please, Brendan. They took me out of Wandsworth. Beat
the shire out of me.'
'Well, I must say you don't look too bad,' Tomelty said.
'We came over on a boat. Anchored off the old pier. I
managed to get away. There are a couple of women on
board, one Special Branch, that Bernstein bitch, the other
is military police.'
And Dillon?'
'He's gone to take out the bunker with another guy. He's
going in by way of the exit at the farmhouse.'
Murphy shook his head. 'And how would he know about
all that?'
'Jesus, Brendan.'
'No, you, Sean.'
At that moment, there was a rumble in the distance.
Kelly ran out of the pub entrance, then came back in.
'It's the abbey. Some sort of explosion. Shall we get up
there?'
Murphy cursed. 'No. It's a waste of bloody time now.'
Murphy pushed Regan to the door. 'Let's get out of here,
down to the pier.'
A few moments earlier, as Dillon and Billy had reached the
exit door in the old farmhouse, Helen Black managed to get through.
'Dillon, for God's sake.'
'What?'
'We've got a crisis. Regan escaped. Jumped in the bay and swam for it.'
'Well, that's damn unfortunate.'
'Will you abort?'
'Like hell. We're at the exit now. We'll go in hard and get
out quick.' He switched off
Helen said to Hannah, 'He's still going in. I'll take the inflatable to the pier. Time could be crucial here.'
'Maybe I should go,' Hannah said.
'Not this time. Now I've got to get moving.'
At the exit door, Dillon stopped, took a magnetized block
from his bag, and slammed it over the lock. 'Stay here and
wait for me, Billy.'
He stepped back, the lock blew, and the doors folded
inwards. Dillon ran in, took a smoke grenade from the
bag, and rolled it down the corridor. The water considerably
reduced its efficiency, but he ran on, pulling out a stun grenade,
but again, swallowed by the floor, it wasn't very effective.
Behind him, Billy muttered, 'What the hell,' raised his
Uzi, and went after Dillon.
Brosnan and O'Neill were having a late supper in the office
when they heard the noise, grabbed their Uzis, and ran out.
A certain amount of smoke remained from the grenade and
they crouched from the half-shock of the stun grenade. A
moment later, Dillon ran out of the fog headlong, and
Brosnan rose to meet him, but Dillon was faster, his Uzi
battering Brosnan back against the wall.
Dillon stumbled to one knee and O'Neill stood up in the murk. 'I've got you now, you bastard.'
He raised his AK and Billy came in on the run, firing his
Uzi, and shot him to pieces. Billy dropped on his knees,
breathing deeply, and Dillon stood up.
'Don't fall down on me now, Billy. This is the good bit.'
He kicked open the office door, produced five blocks of
Semtex from the jump bag, took timers from the bag, and inserted them. He left one on the office floor and
pushed Billy.
'Out you go. Three minutes.' He dropped the blocks one
by one, as they ran through the bunker, splashed through
the water, and made it out of the exit. As they went down
the slope to the cliffs, the explosion rumbled underground.
Murphy was into the car, with Regan, Kelly, Conolly and Tomelty, and roaring out of the village within seconds of the explosion. When they reached the top of the road, he said to Tomelty, who was driving, 'Switch off the engine.'
They coasted down the hill silently and braked to a halt. Helen Black, sitting in the inflatable, heard nothing.
Murphy said, 'Not a sound. You go along the strip of
beach, Tomelty. You and I will take the pier, Conolly, and be very, very quiet.' He turned to Regan. And you
be especially quiet.'
They moved out. Helen Black sat there in the inflatable.
There was a footfall on the beach. She turned and took out her Walther, and a flashlight was switched on from
the pier.
'Well, I know you're not Bernstein, I'd recognize her, so I suppose you must be the Sergeant Major.' Murphy frowned. 'You wouldn't be Black, would you? The one from Derry?'