Authors: Colin Wraight
"
Hold on a minute..!
I think I can see kids in that car......"
Jack shrugged "I’ve waited ten years for this, I’m taking my revenge and I’m going to enjoy it, he has to pay for what he did!"
"Jesus H Christ! The war is over Jack, we’re here for him and him alone"
"He murdered my wife you feck!"
"...But."
"Shut it and follow him
…
"
Said Jack and squinted his eyes to try and get a look at the face of the man he had dreamed about killing for so long.
Both Ohallern and McSheady looked at Jack, he was sweating and the shake of his hands was clearly visible. They knew it was more from excitement than fear, his brothers in arms had long since feared his psychopathic tendencies. How could a man who liked to be known as the Butcher of Belfast be completely sane?
Jack turned his Icy stare on
McSheady
. "Have you got a problem with this?"
“
Me.
?" He replied nervously and raised a hand to stop any intended slaps. "
Nah..!
No problems at all."
"Let’s do this
then."
"We can’t Jack, it’s wrong. We don’t kill children.... What if they were your kids...?”
Jack exploded. "My wife wanted babies..! If you don't want a hole in the back of your fecking head, I suggest you shut up and earn your keep…"
"Sorry." Muttered Ohallern. “Look he’
s pulling into that Burger joint
.”
"Right here goes!" Said Jack by now surprisingly calm again. ".... Pull up over there and keep the engine running."
As soon as the car stopped he climbed out, holding
the pistol high in his palm, and scanning up and down the street for prying eyes he made his way to his target.
The slightest sign of trouble would mean an immediate abort.
McSheady covered his eyes pretending to be asleep, in reality he j
ust didn't want to witness this
slaughter
, he didn’t even want to come on this job but they’d made him
. He had promised himself that
this would be his last one
and then he could give up the game and settle down in a nice little farm somewhere. But not too far from his beloved
Belfast
.
***
Making a mental note of wha
t everyone wanted to eat, Danny
went inside the cafe, it was empty.
"What’s up with the Drive thru?" He asked
casually and checked his wallet for money
.
"Closed." Came the abrupt reply.
He looked at the price list to make s
ure that he had enough
and then made his order in fluent German.
The man beh
ind the counter pressed Danny’s
order in to the till as he said it. "Would you like drinks with that?"
"No thanks."
"That’s Forty seven Deutschmarks please."
***
The Terrorists plan, like all military operations counts on hundreds of factors. Everything from the weather to being in the right place at the right time. But the two most important factors must be surprise and audacity. With this in mind the killer made straight for his targets.
"Excuse me." He shouted, tapping the passenger side window.
Claudia jumped in her seat, she hadn’t seen him coming . "Yes... What do you want?" She thought he looked like a tramp
, and his accent sounded strange, he certainly wasn’t German.
"Are you the wife of Danny Stone." Jack said and smiled broadly, this was a great day and one he’d waited so long for.
"Yes, why? Who are you
?" Claudia said as she
cautiously
wound her window down.
"My names Jack… Jack Mckay! Did Danny never mention me? Well He shot my beautiful wife a long time ago and now it’s my turn…! I’m going to shoot his beautiful wife!
"
Suddenly aware of a gun Claudia
screamed.
"Don’t take this personally!
"
She screamed again as
he aimed the pistol at her head. "Kids, get out..... Get out." Panicking she opened the door slamming it in to her assailants midstream. The gun went off catapulting Claudia on to the driver's seat with blood pouring from a small hole just under her left eye, death was instant.
"Mummy Mummy..." The little girl on the back seat screamed as she desperately wiped the blood
spatter
from her face.
"Daddy." Wailed the boy hysterically, by now on the pavement and running. "Daddy.... Daddy."
Danny had seen the man through Café window, had watched him get out of a car and cross the road. He had frowned as the man approached his car and begin talking to his wife. He didn’t know quite what it was; just a feeling in the pit of his stomach, but something compelled him to walk toward the door. In that second the gun had appeared.
“Claudia..!” Danny screamed and already sprinting for the door heard the report as the gun went off. Then he saw his son running towards him. “Tommy no…! Get down.” He shouted desperately as he went crashing through the door.
The gunman turned quickly and fired two more rounds which missed their intended target and shattered a window just above the door showering him in glass splinters. Then Jack shifted position and fired again, this time he took a fraction longer aiming. Danny had only one thought in his mind; he dived onto his son, grabbed hold and twisted his body around so that he was between the shooter and his boy.
The impact of the bullet tearing through flesh and smashing bone spun him around violently. Searing pain burnt through his chest like an inferno as a red patch began to grow on his white t-shirt.
Looking down at his son Danny
gaspe
d in agony as he noticed another growing red patch on the boys shoulder.
A grin cut across Jacks stony complexion. "You want fries with that?" He asked sarcastically. "Yo
u know who I am? Don’t you Danny boy
?
And you know why I’m here?
"
Danny
stared at the gunman’s face which he failed to recognise.
“My name is Jack Mckay and ten years ago you murdered my wife!”
Danny looked at the
still form of his son and feared the worst. Then he saw the body of his wife slumped against the steering wheel. “No..!” He cried. “What have you done?”
“I ca
me here to kill you!" Jack growled as his finger closed around the trigger.
“But I’ve changed my mind… I’ve decided to let you to suffer for a while like I had to
!”
On this occasion the Terrorist had made his greatest mistake. He had wasted valuable time.
"Halt oder ich shiesse." A German Police officer demanded.
Jack now stunned at his own stupidity turned and fired a sh
ot off but missed, giving Danny valuable seconds to bundle his son into cover
.
The Irishman saw movement in the corner of his eye, turning once again he fired blindly and
missed with the first shot but the second
was closer and forced Stone to drop down and cover his son
.
The Policeman meanwhile, had taken cover behind the open door of his own car. He was speaking wildly into his radio and at the same time trying to take aim with his pistol.
Looking around Jack realised that his original target had escaped, as he faced the Policeman he suddenly felt a searing pain
in his left thigh and realized to his horror that he’d been shot
.
He hissed in pain and fell to one knee.
"Werfen sie ihr waffe weg."
His weapon was now e
mpty and the escape car was nowhere in sight
. "Bastards." He screamed
angrily
. "
You bunch of y
ellow bastards!"
"Bitte werfen sie ihr waffe weg."
The pain was unbearable. Jack fell on to
his side and threw his pistol at the Policeman as hard as he could, but it missed and struck a bench before clattering to the ground.
His mind screamed hysterically for a way out, for a miracle. Capture had never before entered into things.
The thought of spending one more hour in some disgusting gaol made Jack’s mind up, he’d rather die there on the street as a free man.
The rage took hold, he began to tremble and shake uncontrollably. "Why don’t you just shoot me.....? Go on, pull the fecking trigger." He crawled toward the Officer. "Go ahead, blow my fecking brains out."
The Policeman nervously stepped back unsure what to do. "Halt." He demanded.
"Go on
and
shoot me you Nazi bastard....." Jack raged.
“What the feck is wrong with you?”
The Policeman was pleased. He didn’t understand a word the gunman was saying but was sure he had just captured a terrorist.
Suddenly Jack thought he saw a flicker of movement behind the policeman. He didn’t dare look again, he wasn’t even sure of what he had seen. His mind reached out and held on to the faintest
of
thought
s
that it could be Ohallern or McSheady. If it was they had better hurry up.
A
se
cond
later sirens could be heard in the distance approaching at speed. The Policeman seemed to smile then he froze as if an electrical current was being passed through him. His stare widened and his face flushed, then a trickle of blood fell from his nose as he held out an hand to try and stop himself from falling. There seemed to be some hidden power holding him up.
"N
ext time be more careful." Spat
Ohallern sarcastically as he pulled his knife out from the back of the Policeman’s neck, and then let the body slump to the ground.
"You’re a fecking idiot! Get in the car. This place will be crawling with filth any second." Ohallern ordered as he gave Jack a shoulder to lean on for the short walk back to the car.
"You stupid shit!" McSheady cried from the driver’s seat. "You just killed a woman and kid for nothing. What are you, insane or something?"
"It was an accident.” He lied. “T
he bitch opened the door..! And the gun just went off!"
"So that's why you put a bullet into the back of a dangerous six year old."
Jack rolled his eyes skyward. "So I panicked...
Didn’t I just say that it was an accident
!"
He thought it best to leave out the bit where the Soldier was still
brea
thing. “Let’s get out of here.”
"Oh God." Shouted McSheady almost in tears. "The pigs will hunt us down for sure now. No chances just a fecking bullet."
"Drive." Jack cried painfully through clenched teeth as he slumped on the back seat.
“Drive this fecking car..!
Still fearful of the injured Irishman, McSheady stuttered. "The... The idea was to
kill the Soldier not his family!
"
"Enough." Ohallern screamed
angrily
. "Just shut up..! We need to get as far away from here as we can!”
It took the men several hours to drive to France and dump the car before boarding the Regina. An old fishing vessel now manned and funded by the IRA. It was the perfect cover, on the outside a perfectly normal fishing boat but on the inside a warehouse of guns and explosives, awaiting use by the Active service units. Money had no place in this evil market, all transactions were paid for in drugs or blood. The boat was also an effective Taxi. As most Terrorists were known by the authorities and of course constantly watched, they had little or no chance of leaving Ireland by the conventional method to spread their brand of misery. So they turned to the Regina, the Real IRA's best kept secret. The boat picked up its cargo anywhere on the southern Irish coast and dropped off at predesignated points on the coasts of England, Holland but especially France where security was lacking. Men, weapons or drugs. It didn’t really matter, the
Regina
transported anything...