The Storm Protocol (52 page)

He tapped the end of his pen thoughtfully on the desk in front of him.

‘All we need to do now is try and find out what it is they're involved in.’

‘Already on it, sir,’ said Garda Spillane.

‘What do you mean?’ asked James.

‘One of my buddies is heading out; he’s off shift. I’ve asked him to keep tabs on our friends. My shift is over in about ten minutes. I’ll get changed into civvies and relieve him.’

James smiled broadly.

‘I like your style Garda Spillane. You’ll go far.’

‘You can call me Pat, sir,’ said Garda Spillane.

#

As he changed into his suit, Ernesto could not shake off the uneasy feeling that had been brewing since the morning. Neither of the brothers was what you would call emotional, but Ernesto certainly put more store in his feelings than Guido did.

He’d had the dream again. He was a successful farmer and everywhere he turned there were acres of wheat and corn stretching as far as the eye could see. It was such a bountiful harvest, shiny and gold
, that he felt like a modern day Midas. And then, his self-satisfied smile turned to horror as he realised his bounty was not golden, it was ablaze. The flames were literally rushing towards him. He could hear the roar as they consumed everything in their path. The fiery wall of death reared up in front of him, and just before it hit, he screamed and woke up.

He didn’t know what it meant, he never did, but he just knew the portents were not good.

He went to find Guido, noting with annoyance that he wasn't in his room. He went to find Antonio instead, who was patiently ironing shirts.

‘Do you know where my brother is?’ he asked.

‘I believe he’s gone downstairs to wait for you,’ said Antonio. ‘I will be down in a few minutes when I have everything packed and the bill settled.’

‘Thanks Antonio,’ said Ernesto.

When he entered the bar, Guido was sitting waiting for him, as was a glass of the finest cognac. Ernesto sat down, overwhelmed with a sense of love for his brother. By the time he had raised his glass to his lips, all feelings of misgiving had left his body.

‘To us,’ said Guido.
‘Salute!’

‘Salute!’ said Ernesto.

Their glasses clashed together as they toasted another successful partnership. In the fireplace behind them, the flames buzzed and flattened as the gathering wind blew an occasional gust down the chimney.

23
rd
May 2011 – Thirteen days after the Storm.

By prevailing over all obstacles and distractions, one may unfailingly arrive at his chosen goal or destination. – Christopher Columbus.

We all stood clustered around the battered old holdall.

‘Do you think we’ll need it?’ asked Dale.

‘I think it’s going to be absolutely essential equipment, unfortunately,’ I said. ‘The one thing we do have in our favour is the element of surprise, or at least I hope we do, but we need to make sure we exploit that above all else.’

‘So
, where are we going then?’ asked Roussel.

‘Well
, Agent Bruce confirmed our initial suspicions about the ADXR and G&E Chemicals tie up, may God have mercy on his soul. We’d pretty much worked that one out already, but it looks like David McCabe and the Mancini's are planning to produce high volumes of this stuff from a facility in Clonakilty.’

‘And then what? Stockpile it?’

‘If you’ve seen the west coast of Cork,’ I said, ‘then you’d understand what we’re up against. There are so many inlets along the coastline that it would be absolutely impossible to patrol it all. There are literally thousands of coves, beaches and natural harbours; a myriad of places to load any type of merchandise onto boats, and get it out of the country and into circulation with zero chance of discovery.’

I fetched the large-scale ordnance survey map we’d bought on the way back to the hotel, put the holdall on the floor, and spread the large paper sheet fully out across the table. I took out my phone and typed in
ADXR Clonakilty
. I went to Google maps and it helpfully highlighted the actual unit within the industrial park.

I panned out to get an idea of where it was in relation to the town, and then set the phone down next to the corresponding location on the map.

‘So,’ I said. ‘It looks like we go through the town and out the other side to this roundabout.’

I pointed to the spot, took a black marker
, drew a little circle around the roundabout, and then drew a larger circle on another part of the chart that was not relevant to our journey or plan. I then joined the two with a straight line. Keeping my eye on the phone, I transposed a small sketch of the unit into the larger circle, mainly to highlight its orientation in regard to the map.

‘Okay,’ I said. ‘It looks like there is nothing around it but fields, which is good. It helps contribute to the element of surprise. I'd say
, given the organisation we’re dealing with, security will be fairly tight, so that could be a problem. The ideal scenario would obviously be multiple entry points. The front entrance is likely to be heavily guarded, probably augmented by a camera system, so our best bet is going to be doors at the extremities of the building. Now, I don’t know what it’s like over here, but in the United States, there are regulations about certain size buildings having a certain number of fire doors. I think they will be the key to us gaining entry.’

Roussel chimed in.

‘You both heard what Agent Bruce said as well; about Black Swan and some of his crew possibly trying to muscle in on the action.’

‘If so, it’s going to get very busy around there,’ I acknowledged, ‘so we need to be very careful.’

‘How are we going to communicate?’ asked Dale.

‘Good point,’ I said. ‘Do we all have each other's numbers?’

We diligently swapped numbers and then we all made sure we had our hands-free kits with us and that they still worked. As we left the hotel with the holdall and the rest of our meagre belongings, I had a strong feeling that we would not be back.

#

Dave was in his element, as he always was when he had things to do. He was a man of action like his boss; he couldn't stand the long periods of nothing. Chauffeuring, chaperoning, guarding and protecting; all of it quite stressful, but there was minimal action in it. He smiled; the action, when it came, more than made up for the large chunks of boredom.

Dave was meticulous when it came to planning. It was why the failures of recent days had irked him, but realistically it was all part of the process. You couldn't account for the quality of your opposition; you just had to plan
around it as best you could.

He studied the surveillance photographs that had been supplied to him. He had a guy watching the place now, an old
friend from the army who knew what Dave was looking for when it came to buildings. He spread the pictures on the table in front of him, and made neat notes in small capital letters.

The building had one main entrance which would be heavily guarded, but it had a further six sets of emergency exits. There were two sets on each side of the building and two sets at the back. His plan was simple; they would overpower any external security, disable the alarm system, lever open the fire doors and assume control.

He made some final annotations to his large-scale map and then packed the map, his notes and the photographs into a folder.

He went to find his boss, knowing exactly where he would be. He knocked on the door and entered like he always did. This time though, Eoin did not turn on his desk light. Dave had to navigate to the chair by the meagre light filtering in from the half open door. He couldn't see Eoin clearly, but in truth he didn’t need to. He knew he would be reclined all the way back, eyes closed, his face a picture of serenity.

‘Are you sure you want to do this boss?’ asked Dave, into the silence.

‘The more I think about it, the more convinced I am,’ he said.

‘Why do you hate McCabe so much?’ asked Dave.

‘That’s just it,’ said Eoin, his eyes snapping open and his chair tilting upright. ‘I don't. He's the one with all the rage in his heart
, not me. I’m just protecting my interests. It’s a fine line.’

‘What do you mean by a fine line?’ asked Dave.

‘Think of it in boxing terms,’ said Eoin. ‘I'm like a very defensive boxer. I don't really want to hurt him, but by the same token, I’m not prepared to be beaten senseless. Do you understand what I mean?’

Dave nodded.

‘So, why go after this place then?’

‘Very simple,’ said Eoin. ‘It’s all about the balance of power. At the moment I have it. If he gets this plant up and running
, and starts selling this stuff in the quantities he thinks he can, then all the power shifts to him.’

‘Makes sense,’ responded
Dave uncertainly.

‘You don't sound convinced,’ said Eoin.

‘It just seems like a very drastic step,’ stated Dave.

‘Are you afraid?’ asked Eoin.

‘Aren’t you?’ countered Dave.

‘Strangely enough, I’m not. Maybe I have an overinflated sense of my own mortality, but today is not the day I’m going to die.’

By this stage they had walked the long corridor between the house and the mews garage. As they got into the Mercedes, Eoin spoke with surprise.

‘We’re not taking this to Clonakilty
, are we?’

‘No, I thought it might b
e a bit conspicuous,’ said Dave with a smile, ‘especially the personalised number plate. No, we’re heading over to the industrial unit to liaise with the guys. We’ll be driving down to Clonakilty in a fleet of old Ford transits.’

Eoin waited until the car was running and they were both safely seated inside.

‘So, Dave,’ said Eoin, as they pulled out of the garage and onto the main road. ‘Do you mind if I ask
you
a question for a change?’

‘Go ahead,
boss,’ replied Dave.

‘Why have you stuck with me over the last few years?’

Dave considered the question for a few minutes.

‘Well, the pay is good, the hours are good and there are a lot of fringe benefits. To a large extent I’m my own boss, too.’

Eoin looked at him.

‘Oh, I know you're the boss,’ said Dave hastily. ‘But you don't constantly tell me how to do my job. You’re not micro managing me; I hate that shit. You don't tell me how to guard you, chauffeur you or protect you. I make all those decisions. So I suppose that’s pretty cool in a way too; trust and respect.’

‘Would that be two-way?’ asked Eoin.

Dave glanced at him in the mirror.

‘Would I trust and respect you? Absolutely, trust and respect have to be mutual; they have to be two-way, otherwise it just doesn't work.’

‘Do you like me then?’ asked Eoin quietly.

Dave was taken aback.

‘You don't
, do you?’ asked Eoin.

Dave sighed.

‘It’s not as simple as that.’

‘We have a working relationship,’ s
tated Eoin hopefully.

‘Exactly,’ said Dave. ‘We have a working relationship, which tends to complicate things. If you put respect and trust to one side, the question becomes would I go for a pint with you? I would, but I’d feel obliged to, whereas with one of my mates
, I’d go because I wanted to. It’s not that I don't like you boss, it’s just that our working relationship makes it impossible to be mates; I suppose that’s what I’m saying.’

‘I don’t really have any mates,’ said Eoin.

Dave looked at him again.

‘I think that's more a personal choice than anything else though, isn’t it?’

‘I suppose it is.’

He
was still in a world of his own when they pulled up outside the industrial unit.

He followed Dave into the building; he rarely go
t involved in operational logistics. He felt a twinge of anticipation as he saw all the guns laid out on a side table. The hubbub of conversation ceased as they walked in. There were about a dozen guys standing around chatting, and they parted reverentially to allow Dave and Black Swan access to the central area.

Eoin stood back a little to give Dave some room
to spread his maps and diagrams across the table. The men gathered around and Black Swan could see that Dave had split them into sections; four in total with a leader for each team.

‘Okay, this is the way we
’re going to play it,’ said Dave.

He indicated a large
, dark haired man with a thick angular face. He was wearing a sleeveless T-shirt and his upper arms and chest area were covered with tattoos.

‘Pavel?’ asked
Dave.

The man nodded.

‘Your team are going in first. You’re going to be responsible for securing the perimeter and then neutralising the alarm system. You will be the advance guard. Take what you need, and head out in the first van; the red one.’

Dave indicated the table laden with guns.

Pavel nodded curtly. His team grabbed their weapons and walked away.

‘Okay, l
isten up the rest of you. Deano....’

Dave, indicated
a large, thickset, blond haired guy with a beard and a misshapen boxer’s nose.

‘You’re team two.’

Dave paused as the walkie-talkie buzzed beside him.

‘We're rolling, boss,’ came the message
, in heavily accented English.

‘Roger that Pavel,’ said Dave. ‘Okay Deano, your team ar
e taking the rear. Grab what you need and make sure you also take a couple of those jemmy bars. The alarm should be neutralised by then, but you still have to get those fire doors open. Johnno....’

Dave directed this to a small
, barrel-chested, bald-headed guy.

‘You’re team three. You're heading for the left
side of the building.’

David indicated the doors he was talking about on the surveillance photos.

‘Take what you need; again, make sure you take the crowbars.’

‘No problems, chief.’

‘Brian....’

Dave pointed to the last man.

‘You’re the team going in from the right. Assemble your weapons, pry bars and wait for the signal.’

‘Got it b
oss.’

Dave picked up the walkie-talkie again.

‘Team two,’ he said.

‘Roger,’
came the crackling reply, ‘we’re rolling.’

‘Recce your area,’ said Dave. ‘Don’t start moving in until I say so.’

‘Roger that.’

‘Team three?’

‘Go ahead boss.’

‘Get yourselves in position
, but do not move in until I give the word.’

‘Roger.’

‘Team four,’ shouted Dave across at the guys.

Brian looked round.

‘Do not move in until I say so, do you understand?’

‘Yes b
oss.’

Team four left and they heard the sound of the van starting up. Dave walked over to the warehouse door and hit a switch. The shutter started grinding up into the roof.