Chapter 63
Northern Ireland, 1984
A block from the main headquarters of the Royal Ulster Constabulary, Roger Monaghan swung his car into a parking space. He headed through the rear door of an establishment that still listed the owner as O’Donnell but in truth had long been the property of Jack Walsh. In the office, from a safe phone, he placed a call.
“Davy, where is Walsh?” He demanded.
David Martin, only a few minutes back from a trip over the border that had restored his confidence in his own ability to move freely since the bombing, answered in a light tease. “He doesn’t usually check in with the likes of me. My guess, mind ya, he’s still in the States.”
The tone of Martin’s voice irritated the doctor. “Damn it!” he barked, “This isn’t a joke. I can’t locate my father so you have to help me.”
“Calm down, you’re in trouble?”
“I’m in trouble? We’re all in bloody trouble. Sean.”
“Sean? What’s with Sean?”
“He’s been shot. They cut twin bullets out of his chest. He may not make it. Then the Army lifted his kid brother. A mistake, I think? I don’t know?”
“Colin? Christ! He’s a mite. Why him?”
“I warned my pa earlier this morning that they were looking for Sean. The kid didn’t know anything so my pa said it was safe enough; they’d turn him loose in a hurry. He promised O’Neill would be there before they did any harm to the lad. But someone got to Sean first and shot him.”
~~~
In Roger’s excitement it was coming forth in a ramble and David Martin wasn’t going to waste time deciphering it. He had better means of gaining information.
Damn Monaghan to hell, Martin thought, Sean wasn’t a safe pickup. The kid was all bluff. He’d squawk quicker than sneeze. Could he pick out a print of Dede O’Neill if they scared him enough? Hell, they could already be hunting me! he realized and cut into Roger’s tirade. “Where are the O’Donnell boys now?”
“Both in hospital. Colin’s only got a broken wrist but Sean can’t be moved.”
“Get yourself back to that hospital. You see no one gets to questioning Sean till you hear back from me.” The receiver went dead in Roger Monaghan’s ear.
~~~
Less than an hour later, while only the pale hint of dawn washed over the land, an ambulance pulled into the accommodating parking space. It bore a legitimate name so drew only mild attention from Kelsey, who’d stepped out for a smoke.
The RUC man had been called in to interrogate Colin O’Donnell as soon as the doctor passed the boy fit for questioning. Must have been a rough one, Kelsey thought, contemplating an auto accident as the attendants wheeled in two apparently expected stretchers.
He followed them through the emergency doors and his eyes automatically dropped to view the artificially induced bloody face as he paused at the first stretcher. He was not aware of movement at the side of the gurney until he found himself confronted by the muzzle of an M1 poking his belly from beneath the sheeting. With death gaping at him from that muzzle, he froze and gave no warning while the medics with the other gurney continued on down the corridor towards two stiffly standing guards.
Army issued rifles clanged on the tiles as matching thirty-eights, in the grips of the medic, poked into tight bellies and two surprised young soldiers sucked in hot breath.
At the desk, in a whisper, a young woman warned Martin. “Two more. One inside Sean’s room. One with the little guy. You’d best tie me up,” was met with a soft grin.
Then in a tone easily overheard Martin said, “Lass, you stay sitting, not touching anything, acting normal. You got my word nothing will happen to any hospital staff. You?” He crooked a finger at Kelsey. “You know what we’re after. Lead the way. Colin first.” There was no hesitation in the RUC man as he stepped quickly to obey.
The familiar sight of Kelsey coming through the door caused no reaction from the lone constable in the room. Then he saw Martin’s weapon and his face registered shock. Martin tossed a roll of adhesive tape to Kelsey. “Tape your buddy nice and tight less you want him permanently disabled.”
At the words, a somewhat groggy Colin turned on the hospital bed to see a familiar face. Sobs of relief clogged the young throat making speech difficult as he came off the bed into David Martin’s arms. “Davy?” he whimpered.
“You’ll be fine now, lad, you go with this fellow.” Martin pulled the clinging arms from around his neck.
“Sean?”
“And sure, I’ll see to him. You be off now. We can’t waste time.” He eased the boy towards another man who took him out of the room.
“Kelsey?” Martin snapped and quickly the man headed for Sean’s confine-ment. The remaining soldiers were herded into the room while the second constable was being taped up.
Roger Monaghan, already at Sean’s bedside, appeared more concerned for the patient than in blowing his cover. “You take him out of here; he could be dead in an hour.”
“You, Doc, are going to tend to that.” Martin spoke as if they were strangers and grinned at the surprise on Monaghan’s face.
“What?”
“You’re gonna be our guest—unless of course?”
Another man stepped quickly to Kelsey’s rear. A skinning knife appeared in his hand and he struck without warning. The doctor squealed in shock as he watched the blade ripped across Kelsey’s throat.
“It was time to pay up, lad,” the man said. Kelsey stared down at his blood running out of his torn throat between his clutching fingers. “Pity we can’t let ya sing like you made so many other poor blokes.” He shoved the dying man so he fell on the bed they’d just removed Sean from.
The other officers in the room stared in unspoken fear but the man simply wiped the blood from his blade on to the bed sheet.
“You can join him Doc or come with us?” David Martin said without a lift in his tone.
As Martin shoved Roger Monaghan from the room, he turned towards the other prisoners but only to gesture as he ordered his companions, “Knock ‘em out.”
Thirty minutes later, Inspector Dan Mitchell would have been ashamed to admit it but he was rather enjoying a sight he never thought he’d witness. Colonel Oliver Reed was about to lose his cool.
The Colonel’s face was tinged a slight blue as if he was physically struggling with a desire to bodily attack the young men in front of him. “Bloody insane! Just stroll into a hospital. Butcher a constable with soldiers looking on. Take two injured prisoners and flounce out, not to mention kidnapping a doctor and stealing a load of supplies. And all you can report is they were dressed like medical staff. Kelsey was with them and it all appeared perfectly normal until…”
~~~
Dan Mitchell had been questioning the nurses at the desk; now he picked up the pad and held it up as he called out, “Reed.” He was pointing to the line that indicated the ambulance admittance and it stated in bold letters, UDA. “Think somebody is trying to remind us the O’Donnell boys are Protestant?”
“As was Kelsey and two-thirds of this hospital staff,” The Colonel acknowledged. “I’m also taking into account the constables and soldiers, yet no one but Kelsey was harmed. Still, the killer told Kelsey it was time to pay up. Perhaps now you’ll accept there is something developing here that goes beyond what we expect. And Seamus O’Donnell is likely part of it.”
Meanwhile, another voice seethed with its own rage as it bellowed over the long distance line. “What the hell are you doing over there? That bombing even hit the Clovis Times this morning. This keeps up and the flow of Yankee dollars is going to dry up.”
David Martin stammered in frustration. “I haven’t a clue. Hanlon set Reed on the O’Donnells. Trying to save his own ass, sure, but didn’t Packy light a fire under Seamus. He had nothing, it was guess work, but Roger said Reed ate it up like butter on potatoes.”
“Shit! Davy,” Thomas Devlin said. “I can’t reach Seamus. I’m seventeen hundred miles away. I didn’t even know he was in New York or where he’s staying. Walsh is probably already in flight. Seamus could be on the same damn plane for all I know. Monaghan should be able to reach Walsh.”
“Haven’t got to him yet either.” Martin admitted. “Sure, but Brendan Monaghan, the important business man, is all tied up in London with bankers and insurance and such—trying to get the business of the old pub taken care of right smart so he can open him a new one.”
“Walsh is headed straight into Dublin; you’ll have to stop him there. Where are the O’Donnell kids now?”
“I’ve got them stashed at Monaghan’s home. Should be safe.”
“Like hell! You have to get them South.”
“How Tom? Sean’s in rough shape and the young one is ready to take off screaming at the sight of a uniform. And man, take it from me, the streets are full of uniforms.”
“Seamus will have everybody’s ass, something happens to his boys. I can have a ship off shore by tonight. You’re going to have to boat the kids out to it. Bring them in at Dun Laoghaire. I’ll see there’s an ambulance and medical personal waiting there.”
“You don’t hear so good.” Martin yelled at his boss for the first time ever. “Blowing up them officers was some fool’s play. The whole of Ulster is now a bloomin’ prison camp.”
“Never mind that right now. You’ll manage. You already got the boys out of Belfast—that was the tough part—out of Killyleagh will be a cinch.”
“Who do you know that’s dumb enough to lay off shore in the open?”
“All the world loves an injured child. You just be sure you get them out there.”
“What are you doing in God’s country anyway?”
“Making commercials.” Devlin laughed then grew serous again. “William Connors came up with this gem. Actually the little fag is using his head for a change. Playing up the angle that John’s a New Mexico rancher. A hometown boy will appeal to the western voters. Best thing I ever did was divorce him from Beechen. Deprivation of the body makes his brain work better.”
~~~
A few hours later, Franco Andre Baumont the Third paced the deck of his mother’s yacht. As usual he was cursing the Irish bastard who purchased his soul, while he waited for nightfall. He had made plans for this evening and they didn’t include a trip to the Irish coast. But Rory Hanlon gave him an order. So he was forced to cancel dinner with his ex-school-chums RJ Connors and Stew Shepard. He had tried to explain to the damn Mick that his relationship with these relatives of political leaders was vital to furthering their own interests.
But Hanlon only said, “Play games with your pals tomorrow, tonight you play with my mates.”
~~~
The child sat by the curtained window watching the armored cars as they moved along the roads on their endless patrols. Before today, the boy had never met any of these men except David Martin. Martin worked for his uncle and often stayed at their home. Hours ago, Martin had pried Colin’s arms from his own neck and made the boy sit down. Martin told him to wash his face, eat some food, and swore he had nothing to worry about. He promised the boy that he would be right back, but he hadn’t returned.
“Colin it’s only a short trip, and then you’ll be on the boat, then home.” The doctor turned from his final preparation of Sean. “You can take him now,” he said to the other men in the room.
“Damn it, lad, put your pants on.” Brendan Monaghan’s patience was fast giving way to anger as the child refused to dress.
Colin sat helplessly as they lifted his brother. Suddenly the tears came again and he begged, “Please don’t take Sean outside. The Army’s outside. Wait for Davy.”
“Martin’s getting us a friggin’ boat.” Brendan Monaghan hollered. “You want I should dress ya like a damn wean?” The boy’s cowering seemed to draw only disgust from the male now closing the distance. “I’ll carry you out in your undies, makes no never mind to me.”
Sensing that when his father reached the boy, blows might follow, Roger moved quickly between them. Bending down, he laid one hand on the child’s shoulder as he assured, “Davy is waiting at the dock. I wouldn’t lie to you Colin.” His other hand came quickly down.
The unexpected prick of the needle made Colin squeal, “Why did you do that? What’s it gonna do to me? I’ll puke!”
And though he remained unconscious until he was safely upon Baumont’s yacht; consciousness brought his forewarned reaction. True to his word, he sat up as the violent upheaval rose from his stomach. He tried to jump from the bunk but his legs buckled. Instinctively Brendan Monaghan caught the staggering child. As he did, Colin’s forced supper spilled out over the man’s jacket.
Roger moved quickly before the look on his father’s face turned into action. He dragged the boy into the toilet and securely latched the door.
Bringing up nothing but phlegm now, Colin worried, “That man’s gonna kill me.”
“Hardly.” Roger struggled to contain his mirth. “Can’t say I’d be overjoyed if I was my pa right now. You wait here; I’ll bring you a shot to settle your stomach.” And get a shot of another kind to settle my pa. He suppressed laughter.