‘Do you think Mullen will tell us anything more?’ O’Neil spoke as he took the right-hand turn that would lead to the forecourt.
‘If he knows anything more then he’ll tell us,’ Liam replied. ‘He’s given us enough to set Stanton after him already. No point holding out now and getting killed by us. Mullen’s crazy but he’s not stupid. At the very least he can tell us how to work his recorder, I still can’t work out how to turn it on.’
‘I’m surprised he folded so quickly,’ said Michael. ‘From what you said about him. I thought he’d have held out.’
‘Like I said, Mullen isn’t stupid. He still thinks we might kill him, but he knows cooperating is the only chance we won’t.’
‘Is he right?’
Michael was genuinely uncertain. After so long apart he no longer knew the limits of his brother’s ruthlessness.
‘Is he going to die?’
‘Depends how much of a threat he still is when this is over. When Stanton’s gone. I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it if he did have to go, but you only kill when you have to, Mikey.’
‘Ah, a lesson every big brother should teach.’
The sarcasm in Michael’s voice risked re-igniting the animosity between them. It almost did, until they turned onto the illuminated forecourt.
‘What the fuck?’
The small inner door they had exited hours earlier was no longer on its hinges.
Michael was the first to move. His shock was overshadowed by fear for Sarah. He was out of the car and through the doorway in seconds. Liam and O’Neil were close behind.
All were met by the sight of a massacre.
Robert Mullen, still bound and slumped in his chair. Two bullet wounds decorated his unmoving chest.
There were three more bodies. The number included Jack Thornton.
Each body carried a fatal bullet-wound to either the head or the chest. And only Thornton had drawn his weapon before dying. It was a worrying fact. If only one man had reacted before death then the assault must have been incredibly fast.
Whoever had killed these three men with such efficiency was good. And Mullen’s body made it clear that it wasn’t a counter-attack by his organisation. That left only one option. Stanton. The man so intent on killing Michael and Sarah. Clearly he had decided Mullen had outlived his usefulness and brought in other assets.
‘Sarah?’ Michael had finally found his voice. He shouted Sarah’s name so loudly that it stopped Liam and O’Neil in their tracks. They tore the place apart until it was certain that there was no sign of Sarah. Dead or alive.
‘She’s not here.’
Michael could feel Sarah’s absence as a crippling pain in the pit of his stomach. She was dead. He knew it. And it was a thought that he could not bear.
‘She’s dead, Liam. She’s dead. I should have been here. I should have been here.’
‘Listen to me, Mikey.’
Liam stepped forward and grabbed his brother in a bear hug. His strong arms pulled Michael into his chest.
‘Listen to me. She’s not dead, Michael. She’s not dead.’
‘What?’ Michael’s voice was desperate. ‘How do you know? How can you know?’
‘Because there’s no body, Mikey. If she was dead her body would be here. With the rest of them. Why would they take it?’
Liam’s logic pulled Michael back from the edge. He began to regain some clarity of thought.
‘They’ve taken her alive? Why?’
‘Because they aren’t sure what we have or what we know. She’s a bargaining chip. Sarah, for whatever we’ve got.’
‘You mean the recording?’
‘For whatever. They don’t know what we have, Mikey. They don’t know what they’re actually bargaining for. They’re just hoping you’ll hand over whatever it is to keep Sarah safe.’
‘But then they’ll kill her anyway. They must realise we know that?’
‘Maybe they do. Maybe they don’t. Either way, we play along. We wait for them to get in touch.’
‘Or maybe you contact them.’
The last words came from a deep English voice. It was out of place in a room full of Irishmen. All three span to face the door. Liam and O’Neil reached for their weapons.
‘I wouldn’t do that.’
The authority in the voice was backed by a gun in an expert hand. Intense, unblinking eyes rooted all three to the spot.
Michael studied the man. He took in the details. Powerfully built. Smartly dressed. Clipped military hair. One thought occurred to him: the killer had returned. So the newcomer’s next words were a shock.
‘Were you here when this happened?’
A gesture of his pistol indicated to the carnage around them.
‘Were you?’ Liam asked. Gun or no gun, Liam was control of the scene.
‘You’re Liam Casey.’
Liam’s response had been all that was needed to mark him for who he was. The newcomer continued, gesturing towards the younger brother.
‘Which makes you Michael Devlin.’
‘And who the hell are you?’
‘I’m Major Joe Dempsey of the Department of Domestic Security.’
Dempsey lowered his weapon and took another glance around the room.
‘And I think we can help each other.’