BlindFire (12 page)

  "Stop asking silly
....  Things!
"
She replied. “The ‘Real IRA doesn’t recognise treaties.” 

  "Where’s
my friend
Jack...  Jack McKay?
Do you know where he lives?
"

  "He went away....  away...  Somewhere."

  "Where did he go?"

  "Am....  Am.... 
America
."

  The girl suddenly seemed to fade
as the drugs took hold of her mind
.

  "Where in
America
?"  He
shook her violently.  "Wake up."

  He knew if the girl awakened she would probably remember everything. There was only one course of action remaining. Taking hold  of  her  left  arm  he  administered  the  remainder  of  the syringe into  her  body. From  the  marks  on  both  her  arms  it  seemed  she  did  this  often,  it wou
ld  look  like  an accident. Danny
quickly returned to his cabin  only  to  find  the  other   woman  sat  on  his  bed  waiting  for  him.

  "Where have you been?"  She demanded angrily.

  "I went to the toilet."  He lied.

  "
I don’t
believe you."

 
He shrugged. “
I don’t care what you believe or what you don’t believe..!
Get out
of my cabin
.”

  "What?"  She snapped.
“Who the feck do you think yer’ talking to?”

  "
Don’t make me ask again
."

  "If  you've  been  anywhere  near  my  litt
le  sister  I'll  slice  yer' fe
cking prick  off."

  She stood up and
tried to push her way past.  Danny
  had  already made  his  decision,  she  would  also  have  to  be  silenced.  Grabbing  her hair  he  yanked  her  backwards  into  the  small  cabin  and  closed the door.

  "One murmur from you and you’re dead
!"
He whispered icily.

    He took out the Tanto and gently ran the blunt side along her throat.  "Take off your bra."

  "
Fe
ck you
..!
"

  "Do it...  or else."  He   pressed   harder   with   the   knife.

  The girl stood motionless for a second as if waiting for some miracle to save her.  Then  she slowly  slipped  an  hand  underneath  her  jumper and  a  moment  later  it  returned  with  a
pink
bra.

  "
What next, my
knickers
? You wanna screw
me
,
is that it?"

  "
Frankly my dear I’d rather shoot myself in the face.” He replied. “
No
w then
, lay flat on the floor face down and put your hands on your back."

  As  soon  as  she  complied,  he  bound  her  hands  with  the  bra  and then  realised  the  flimsy  material  wasn't  strong  enough.

  "So you’re a big hard
Provo
..."  He  said,  one  fleeting  glimpse around  the  room  confirmed  his  fears  there  was  nothing  else  to tie her  up  with.
He grimaced, there was no way he could let her go the others would kill him and throw his body overboard.

  "I  need  you  to  tell  me  where  Jack  McKay  can  be  found.  If you do that I’ll let you go and there will be no need for anymore blood shed."

  "Never heard of him."

  "He killed my wife and
he’s got one of my kids."

  "
Is the kiddy a pretty one?” She snarled defiantly. “Jackie boy likes the pretty ones
."  She trembled with anger and insolence.  "Your slutty wife and pathetic brats don’t mean anything. 
Don’t you know this is a fe
cking war?"

  "
You’re wrong! They
mean something
to me
."

  The  woman’s  body  jerked  as  the  Tanto  entered  the  base  of  her neck  like  an  hot  knife  through  butter  and  carved  its  way  into  her brain  sending  spasms  of  pain  through  her  body.  She was dead in a microsecond.

  "For the struggle."  He  growled,   pulling  out  the  knife  and  wiping  it  on  her  hair. He’d  just  killed  two  women  but  strangely
he
felt  nothing, not  the  slightest  bit  of  remorse.

  He  knew  only  one  of  the  crew  would  be  up  at  this time  so  he  decided  to  throw  the  body  overboard.  As  he  dragged  the  limp  body  towards  the  door  he  heard  someone  coming. Quickly throwing  the  body  onto  the  bed,  he  pulled  his pants down and jumped  on  top. A  second  later  the  door  swung  open  and  bathed  the morbid  scene  in  light.

  "
What the hell
is going on
in
here?"

  "Well if y
ou don’t know by now."  He said
in disgust.  "You've got a problem."

  The man came closer.  Danny
waited, just a few more feet.

  "Get off her ye’ swine English bastard."

  "...  I was here first
..!
"

  The  man
  lunged  forward  to  grab Danny
  but  ran  headlong  in  the Tanto.  The man swayed for a moment then collap
sed in a heap on the floor.  Danny
  had  to  put  a  foot  against  the  mans  chest and  pull  with  all  his  strength  to  get  the  blade  out.  The knife had entered vertically between two ribs.

  When  he  arrived  at  the  wheel house  the  boss  was  dozing.  He  had  used  two  pieces  of  flex  to  hold the  large  wooden  wheel  in  place.

  "Oh it’s you."  He said startled by the sudden intrusion.
“Thought I told you to stay below.”

  "Not really very tired, like to stay in here with you, if you don't mind."

  "
What the hell!
Might help keep me awake."

  He suddenly put a hand inside his j
acket. Danny
stiffened, ready for a weapon.

  "There's  nothing  like  Irish  whiskey  on  a  cold night,  would  you  care for some?"

  As much as Danny
wanted it he refused.  "It’s bad for the old gut."

  "Rubbish."

  "I remember the last time me and
my mate
Jack McKay got pissed.
..  Oh what a night."  Said  Danny
  watching  the  Captains  face  for  any  sign  of recognition.

  The large man frowned heavily.  "It’s not like Jack to drink with the likes of you."

  "What’s that supposed to mean?"

  "
You’re a fecking
Brit."   He shrugged.  "Need I say anymore?"

  "Well for your information we are very good friends. 
For gods
sake he’s almost family. My Da’ and his Da’
went to school together."   He
forced a grin.  "He  asked  me  to  look him  up  next  time  I  was  in  town.  I take it he still lives in ehm... Now where was that place?"

  "Giggs farm, everyone knows that.  It’s a lovely little place up in the hills."

  Danny
slowly  unhitched  the  Tanto  and  started  the  short  distance  to the  Irishman.  "I’m sure I can find it now, thanks to you."

  The  big  man suddenly  turned  after  seeing  movement  through  the reflection  in  the   window.

  "What the fuc..."  His  last  words  nastily  cut  short  as  the  Tanto whipped  up  and  sliced  through  his  wind  pipe. The dying man stumbled  forward,  blood  gushing  from  the  open  wound  in  his  neck. He  tried  in  vain  to  stem  the  gushing  fl
ow  of  blood  and  attack  Danny
at  the  same  time.  Once  again  the  blade  flashed  through  the  air  and  cut  across   the  mans  face.  But  he  kept  coming  as  if  some  sort  of survival  instinct  had  tripped  him.

   As a last resort  Danny
  grabbed  the  mans ears  and  head butted  him  as hard  as  he  could.  This time the big Irishman went down hard and fast.

***

  "Driver!"  Shouted   an   impatient   Sergeant.  "How long till we hit
Belfast
?"

  "T
hirty
minutes or so."  Came a hoarse reply.

  The  Sergeant  was   excited  about  the  six  months  tour  in Belfast,  after all  the woman he loved and intended to marry in a few weeks  lived 
t
here.  "Ok lads."  He stood, so everyone could see and hear him.  "You're  in  'Bandit'  country  so  smarten  your  bloody  selves up  and  get  your  Berets  on.

  There  was  movement  as  soldiers  all  over  the  coach  hunted  for  their  own  personal  kit.

  "Who’s got me' shagging Beret then?" Shouted one Private. "Give it back."

  The Sergeant stood up again.  "Who  ever  took  his  beret,  for  Gods sake  give  it  him  back  before  he  starts  crying."

  The coach juddered then sharply came to a halt throwing soldiers forward   in   their seats and the Serge
ant
against the windscreen.

  "W
hat the hell
was that?"

  "I think it was a blowout!"  Shouted the driver.  "Everyone out!"

  The  Serge
ant
  immediately  reeled  off  orders for getting the wheel changed  as  if  he  was  preparing  for  battle.  While the driver just sat and shook his head.  "I don’t think you understand how big this job is."

  The  Serge
ant
  didn't  hear  him  and  carried  on  with  his  plan.

***

  They were tired and they were soaking wet.  The  two  men  had been  waiting  for  countless  hours  hidden  some  fifty  yards  from  the road  in  a  dip  behind  some   blackberry  bushes.

  Suddenly a beep sounded making the younger man jump.

  "Right lad that’s the signal.  We’ve got about two and a half
minutes.  As  soon  as  the
  bus  passes  that  tree,  you  reel  in  your  rope  as  fast   as  you  can  and  with  a  bit  of  luck  we'll  get  ourselves a  blowout."

  The teenager nodded.  He  had  waited  for  this  moment  all  his  life, this  would  be  his  first  kill.

  "Dad."   He whispered.  "Aren't   you scared?"

  "Don’t be stupid, of course I am."

  The radio crackled once more.  "It’s here lad,   get ready."

  The  young  man  stood  up  to  get  a  clearer  view  of  the  road  and took  up  the  slack  on  the  thick  rope,   then  ran  a  shaking  hand across  his  sweaty  brow.

  "Both hands."  Barked his father.

  "Ok....  Ok."

  Suddenly  there  seemed  to  be  a  mass  movement  on  a  broad  front all  along  the  side  of  the  road  as his  brothers  in  arms  moved  to  their  final  firing  positions.  Most  of  the  men  had  Kalashnikovs,  but   a couple carried  self  loading  rifles  captured  from  unwary  soldiers.  One  guy  even  had  an  SA80,   the  weapon  of  the  modern  British Army.

  "Now boy...  Now!"  Screamed his father.

  He hesitated for just a second too many.  "Get out of my way you idiot.  Want a job doing,   should do it my Bastard self."

  The  driver of  the bus didn't  see  the   sharpened  metal  spikes  being dragged  across  the  road,  but  the  men  in  hiding  did  this  was  their point  of  no  return.

  The  terrorists  held  their  breath  as  the  front  set  of  wheels  made  it through  the  spikes  unscathed.  The  rear  wheels  were  not  so   lucky and   exploded  on  impact  throwing  pieces  of  rubber  across  the  road.

  The  coach  skidded  to  a  halt  throwing  the  passengers  forward  in their  seats,  one  hit  the  windscreen  with  a  thud  but  got  up  and  gave orders  almost  at  once.

  The  uniformed  soldiers  moved  about  the  bus  then  appeared  one  by   one  on  the  road  side.

  "Get cracking lads,   I want that tyre off in five minutes."

  "It’s both tyres."  Came a sarcastic reply.

  "Fine...  Ten minutes."

  "Serge, look." Cried  a  Soldier  and  pointed  at  the  metal  spikes scattered  across  the  road.

  "Take cover
men...  Take cover."  His  voice  was  drowned  out  by hells  own  thunder  as  an  hail  of  bullets  swept  across  the  road smashing  into  the  panic  stricken  soldiers.

  Everything  seemed  to  happen  in  slow  motion  as  limbs  exploded  and  bodies  disintegrated.  Soon  all  the  Soldiers  were  either   dead   or dying,   the  firing  petered  out  as  the  bodies  stopped  twitching.