Deadly States (Seaforth Files by Nicholas P Clark Book 2) (27 page)

a helicopter into an emergency landing last week. We have really big
plans for
him. He can take
his targets
out from up to three
miles
away, or so he says.
And from that distance, escaping is never a problem. He’s a real lone wolf.
We released him into the
mountains last
month. For three weeks we heard nothing.
We even thought that he
might have been captured. Or maybe he got bored and decided it was
time to head back home. Then the killings started. He showed up in
the Darkly
Arms last night.
As cool as you like. Just like some dumb
American tourist. This one is a cold-hearted killer and I intend to stay
on the right side of him. When he was in the pub last night he was
laughing and joking like he hadn’t a care in the world. That’s when I
set up this little game.”

“Well it was nice
of you to ask me to play with you guys,
but I
have much more important grown up things to be getting
on with,”
Jack said.

“There is nothing more important that this game right now Sean.
Some of my comrades think you are nothing short
of the second coming. I think that you are full
of shit. There is something about you
that has never sat quite right with me. I don’t think that you are working for the British. Even those ruthless bastards wouldn’t let you kill
one of their
own soldiers just to put your cover in place. But there is
definitely something. This whole mission that you are on, to seek revenge for the death of your
mother. I just
don’t buy it. You may want
to see those who killed her held to account,
pen through the random killing
of soldiers
but that will never hapor
policemen. I
kill them

because they stand in the way
of a united Ireland. You expect
me to
believe that you kill them because you are angry with
one unnamed
soldier who accidentally killed your mam? That is bullshit.”

Jack briefly lowered the binoculars and he glared at Barry.
“You can believe whatever you want to believe. Frankly Barry I
couldn’t give a shit about what you think. I have done everything that
has been asked of me and I have done it well. If I do have some ulterior motive then what does it matter?
As long as the job is done do you
really give that much of a shit?”
Another bullet. Barry grinned.
“Just a couple more to go, Sean. And yes it bloody well does mat

ter to me why you are here. If it isn’t for a united Ireland and it isn’t
because
of your
mother, then that
doesn’t leave room for any
other
explanation,” Barry said, earnestly. He paused, before spitting
out the
accusation
quickly.
“You are a cold blooded psychopath. This war is
just an excuse to kill.
And that my friend makes you even more dangerous to me than the thirty thousand soldiers out there.”

“You are
quiet.
You are
determined.
You are intelligent,” Barry
said. “But you are not sincere.”
“If you are right Barry, then I ask you
once again; why
does it
matter?
As long as I get the job done then my
motivations should not
worry you. If you think that I am out here to merely feed some blood
lust, then I would be stupid to turn on the people who are helping me
feed that desire.
Again, and one last time for the hard of understanding; why does it matter? Why should it worry you?”
“But it
does Sean; it worries
me a hell
of a lot. A cold-blooded
killer
doesn’t
much care for who he kills.
And I
don’t want to feed
your
bloodlust.
After all, I could be the
one who you turn
on if you
don’t get to kill
on some mission. There is a darkness inside you man,
and I don’t want to be around when it next comes out.”
“Don’t worry Barry, if I put a bullet in your head during a mission
it will be because you have pulled this kind of bullshit, or because you
talk far too
much. Now, this game is
over.
You can tell your friend
that he is brilliant at hide and seek. You can tell him that I am wildly
impressed by his skills. You can tell him whatever the hell you like, as
long as you tell him to stop firing at me.”
Jack held the binoculars
by his side. Barry raised his hand again.
Jack’s
binoculars
shattered into a
hundred
pieces as the
bullet tore
them from his hand and scattered the devastated fragments across the
road. Jack turned to a grinning Barry.
“Well done Barry.
All that you have managed to do here today is
destroy a perfectly good pair
of spyglasses. If we are finished then I
would really like to get back to the base and have a shower. I stink even
worse than you; and that is saying a lot.”
“No Sean, we have done a lot
more than that here today. I have
told you that I am ontoyou. I know who and what you really are. You
are like an attack dog. With the right kind of training and with the
right target in your sights you would be an exceptionally useful asset
to our cause. But you and I both know that no matter how hard you
try, you really can’t teach an old dog new tricks. You will play us for as
long as it suits you and then you will turn on us. And that’s what today
was really about, Sean. I want you to know that if you do turn on us
like a mad dog
one day, we will be waiting. My friend out there will
be keeping a very close eye on you at all times. If he so much as gets a
bad feeling about anything that you do then he will put you down. Do
we understand one another Sean?”
Barry was always at
his
bravest and
most
dangerous when he
had
back-up. This was something that Jack was to learn later when he
faced
him alone. That cocky self-confidence was nowhere to be seen
when he
didn’t have someone watching his back. How long the sniper
watched
Jack while he was in Ireland he had no way
of
knowing.
Though it was
highly
likely
that Jack was
only
ever in the
man’s
sights
on that
one
occasion. The sniper was
much too busy to
be
watching Barry’s back. In the following thirty years that same sniper
killed
over
four
hundred
soldiers and
police
officers in the
South
Armagh area. He was a legend within theIRA movement and the wider
Republican
community.
The
South
Armagh
countryside
was
decorated with triangular warning signs showing the black outline of
a sniper where you would normally
find the
outline
of a workman.
Under the sign was the
humorous, if
somewhat sinister, warning,
Sniper
At Work. It was dark humour, but they were dark times. The
last victim of the Troubles before the 1997 ceasefire, Lance Bombardier
Stephen
Restorick,
was
a
victim
of
the
sniper.
Once the ceasefire
arrived the sniper vanished, like the mountain mist that he so often
used as cover during his escapes. He slipped in and out of Irish history
without anyone truly learning his identity.
Even the IRA
men who
let
him into their
organisation never really
believed his
back story.
Men like the sniper and men like Jack had a
bigger impact on how the
modern Ireland was to be shaped than many
of the household names.
They
were the true
masters
of
destiny and
their secret touch has
been guiding mankind for centuries.

As Jack waited for help to arrive back in modern day South Africa
he couldn’t help but dwell on that strange day from his past. In those
few short minutes in front of that sniper, Jack had learned more about
Barry than he had done in two years
of undercover work.
Although
Jack was extremely angry at the time it gave him the kind of insight
that would ultimately lead to victory
on a container ship in the Irish
Sea as Barry vanished into the icy waters.

There was something about the Barry from that day and the Barry
from the present day that
didn’t
quite sit right with Jack. He tried to
wrestle an answer
out
of the depths of his mind, but the struggle got
the better
of him.
Annoyed with himself he let it go, and, as is often
the case with such internal
battles,
once he had decided to let it go,
the answer came to him like a bolt from the blue. It was almost as if
his brain was trying to show Jack who the real boss was—you
don’t
tell me what to do mate, I am the one who wears the trousers in this
relationship.

The relief at finding the answer to the question that was troubling
him so very much soon gave way to another concern. Barry was always
at his most cocky and his most dangerous when he was being backedup. That was true on that hot summer’s day all those years before back
in Ireland, and it was true of that day in South Africa. That Barry had
been at his cocky
best all
evening meant that he had someone in the
background looking
out for him. That the mysterious someone hadn’t
helped Barry out during that fire fight back at Jack’s house, meant that
this back-up was not as
effective as the
American sniper from their
past. That
did not
mean that the back-up could not
do something to
help Barry
out of his current predicament. Jack turned to Robert. Was
this guardian also operating under
orders to put Jack
down if he became a threat to Barry? It was a concern, but it was a concern that he
was in no position to do anything about other than keep on the move to
make it as hard for Barry’s unknown protector as he possibly could.

“Where are we going?” Robert asked. The caution in Robert’s voice
was in response to the agitation in Jack’s voice.
“Down to the parking lot,” Jack said.
“Why can’t we wait here? Surely it would be much safer for you to
wait here? With only a couple of entrances to watch? Unlike the parking lot. Please Jack,
don’t do something stupid now. There has been