A/N: Hi to all you Burners out there, it has been a long time since I updated, I hope there is still some interest in my M-rated stories of Michael & Fiona's early days in Ireland.
I thought it would be a good idea to update these tales as they fit in nicely with Be Brave Little Angel which is jointly written by myself & Jedi Skysinger under the pseudonym of Jedi's Pal.
This is the 2nd part of what will be a four part story which will end with Michael McBride's first meeting with the whole Glenanne clan. In this chapter McBride is about to discover exactly how crazy his new girlfriend really is, and if Michael Westen wants to maintain his cover, he is going to have to hang on tight and enjoy the ride.
A Note on Chapter Order: The first part of this trilogy can be found in Chapter 9. Sorry for any confusion I will at some point put all chapters in the correct order, but for now you can work it out as all chapters are titled by date and location.
A reminder: In these early chapters, Fiona is unaware Michael McBride is really nothing more than a cover identity belonging to an American spy.
WHO WE ONCE WERE
Belfast, March 1998 – Part 2
Two days before Mother's Day.
Oh Jayzuz, he's killing me! Ahhhh feck – feck – feck… Stop! Stop! Mic – Ahhh – elll! I cannae… I cannae take - No, no, no, donnae stop – dontcha dare stop.
The young woman's sweat covered body twisted and turned upon the bed, her long auburn hair fanning out over the pillow beneath her head, her slender toned arms thrashing about, one moment her long fingernails were scraping through the dark wavy hair of her new boyfriend, whose tongue was driving her wild, the next second they were stretching over her head to grip the bars of the metal headboard of the bed as her body arched upwards.
"Mi – Mi – Michael! Michael! Oh! Oh! Oh!"
She could take no more. Legs which had been clamped tightly about her lover's ears relaxed as a wave of pure pleasure and bliss wiped out all thought, leaving her limbs twitching and trembling and her mind totally blank.
"Jaysus fecking Christ… I've missed ya this last coupla mornings…"
She finally spoke and smiled down along her glistening body to where her wild Kilkenny cat's lips were brushing lightly over her stomach, laying gossamer soft kisses on her hip bones, before trailing upwards across her belly, over her ribs and then her breasts until his muscular body was looming over her and his mouth was sucking on the sweet spot behind her ear.
"Yer nae goin' back ta sleep, ar' ya, sweetheart…?" His breath tickled her neck while his teeth lightly nipped at her ear lobe sending another wave of tremors through her thoroughly sated frame.
"Sleep is tha last thing on me mind, Michael McBride." Her eyelids fluttered as she stared straight into the deep blue eyes of the man who had stolen her heart. "I believe tis my turn nar." Her smile went from serene to lascivious in a flash.
When the morning light had peeked through a gap in the thin curtains covering her bedroom window and causing her to stir, McBride had carefully finished the job of waking her with soft tender kisses to her shoulders and back until she'd been fully awake and then, as she had snuggled up against his warm muscular body, his hands had begun to wander, working her into a frenzy well before he had pushed her onto her back and his head had disappeared under the sheets. Now it was going to be her turn to return the favor.
"Fi -"
"Shhh…." She placed her palm over his mouth and in the same instant rose up and straddled his hips. "Shhh, tis me turn nar." Sitting up, she ran the palm of her hands over the flat planes of his chest, down over his ribs and abdomen. In her mind she was running through all the things she wanted to do to this gorgeous man who had returned to her bed.
With an almost animalistic growl, the flame haired siren leant forward to claim her lover's lips, crushing her mouth over his and demanding his surrender while her fingers curved like talons scraped over his skull as they raked through his thick black hair.
So wrapped up in their passion were they that neither of them heard the sharp rattle of the letterbox or the initial loud rap of knuckles hitting the glass on the window pane next to their front door. Neither did they apparently hear the slight scrapping noise of a lock being picked.
It was only when there was a sudden bang on the bedroom door and her brother Sean's angry shout of: "Fi, Fiona! Get up off ya arse, will ya!" That the couple rolled apart, each landing on their feet with weapons draw from where they had been concealed under their pillows now aimed at the door.
"Yar brother," Michael mouthed, his eyes widening to show his surprise.
"I'll kill ham fer this," Fiona hissed back and then raised her voice. "SEAN?"
"Aye, who else would it be?" came the reply "Will ya get out hare? We've gotta job ta do an' it cannae wait."
"Tha bastid…" She tossed her pistol onto the bed as she reached for her clothes. "Stay hare, I'll find out whot he wants an' then kick ham out... HAVE YA NAE HEARD O' THA PHONE?"
"Aye, but ya have ta answer tha bloody thing when I call."
With her T-shirt and jeans on, she kissed her lover, letting her hands trail once more down his back and over his firm behind before taking a deep breath and reluctantly stepping out into the living area, closing the door behind her.
"Whot tha bloody hell d'ya think yer doing breakin' inta me home?" The petite red head wasted no time in letting her brother know exactly how she felt.
"Whot tha hell ar' ya doin' still in bed at ten o'clock? And yar phone is nae good out hare an' turned off either," her sandy haired sibling shot back, pointing out her cell phone sitting where she had left it the previous night on the wooden shelf over the electric fire. "Keenan has been on ta me. He has a job fer us an' it has ta be done tonight. So thar is nae time ta waste."
Patrick Keenan was the Real IRA shot caller who had given them the job of collecting the weapons in Derry, guns which she and McBride had spent several hours sabotaging to make them unusable. It had been during that job that she had trusted her instincts and told McBride the truth of why she and Sean had allegedly split from the Provo and joined the more radical splinter group.
"Thot is still nae an excuse fer lettin' yarself in... Whot are ya doin' in Belfast anyway?" she asked as she walked into the kitchen and hurriedly dropped the two mugs which were sitting on the counter top into the sink.
"Keenan insisted I came up hare ta pick up tha drawings of whar he wants us ta hit. He has gotta team together an' some half arsed idea fer a smash an' grab. I told ham I'd tell ya about it an' see if we can come up wit' something better. Tha idjit should stick ta dishing out tha jobs an' leave tha planning ta those thot know better." Sean followed her into the small narrow space, leaning against the door frame as he watched his little sister fill the kettle with water.
"Whot is it? A bank…?" Her interest was piqued at the thought of a job.
"Nah, tis a lorry load o' high grade dynamite sitting in a Murphy Demolition warehouse at Fleenstown, just outside Dublin."
Even without seeing the plans she knew that breaking into a demolition company warehouse was not going to be an easy task. Due to all the paramilitary groups on both sides of the border, anybody who kept a large supply of weaponry or explosives kept their goods heavily guarded. Not to mention smashing and grabbing as her brother had put it was completely out of the question when a stray bullet or spark could literally blow the whole operation.
"Hare…" She handed her sibling a hastily made cup of tea, glaring at him when he pulled his face at the weak, milky brew in the mug. "It willnae kill ya an' yer tha one whose shoutin' at me ta hurry."
She pushed past him, snatching the roll of papers he was holding out of his hand, and carried them and her own milky tea back into the living room. Sitting down on the couch, she placed her drink on the coffee table and then unrolled the large A2 size sheets of paper, using the mug to hold down one side of the drawings.
"Ya can see tha problem straight off." Sean joined her on the couch, using his mug as a paperweight in the same way as his sister had. "Guards on tha gates, electric fences topped wit' razor wire, camera's every twelve feet, so thar is nae cuttin' tha wire an' thot is just getting' inta tha compound. Tha lorry is kept overnight in thot building thar." He pointed out a long rectangular shape on the hand drawn diagram. "An' it has one o' those new fancy electronic numerical code locks."
"Whot is Keenan suggesting?" she asked, without taking her eyes off the drawing, her mind rapidly working through her own strategy for capturing the prize, yet dismissing each one when the scenario ran into an unsolvable problem.
"We go in hard, bust through tha front gate all guns blazing, shooting everyone an' then we blow tha door wit' some C4 and get out."
"Yer right, tha man has a screw loose. Did ya explain ta him his plan is as likely ta get us all killed or blown ta kingdom come if we use C4 next ta a lorry filled wit' explosives?"
She pursed her lips as she returned to staring at the papers before her, seeing nothing but failure.
"We cannae go through tha gates, we cannae get ta tha fence wit'out being seen an' then even if by some miracle we get inside, it says hare thar ar' guards wit' dogs ta deal wit' an' then thot lock... Who is it thot told Keenan about tha dynamite shipment an' gave ham tha plans? This smells like a set up ta me."
"I asked ham thot an' all he would say is thot tis a loyal an' valuable member o' tha cause who managed ta get a job driving fer Murphy's. Apparently our brave leader has had his eye on robbin' Murphy's fer years. Tha Provo Council wouldnae give ham tha go ahead so thot's why wa're doin' it nar."
"An' thot's why we've got tha job ya mean. It doesnae matter if we get killed or succeed, either way he's showin' tha council thot tha Real IRA is keeping up tha fight an' at tha same time he's showin' Liam thot he's no longer givin' tha orders ta all tha Glenannes... Havin' said thot, whot does Liam have ta say about this? I take it ya have spoken ta ham already?"
"If we can do tha job without getting killed, wa're ta do it. But he wants us ta plant trackers in tha load, so he can follow whar it goes. He also wants us ta find out who McKevitt's contact is at Murphy's."
"So he donnae want much."
Fiona slumped back with a scowl on her face. She'd had her own plans for today, plans which didn't involve robbing an explosives supplier. Plans which did involve keeping Michael McBride in her bed for the rest of the day before they both travelled to her mother's tomorrow afternoon in preparation for their Mother's Day family get together on Sunday.
"Thar has ta be some way inside... How about if we use suppressed sniper rifles ta take out tha guards on tha gate an' in tha compound? Then go in. I've yet ta see a lock ya cannae pick."
It wasn't that she had anything against the killing of British soldiers, RUC officers, or Ulster men in general if they got in her way. But she was not so keen on the idea of massacring innocent Irishmen going about their business. Nae if thar wa' another way... Thar had ta be another way.
A discussion with her brother about her moral code was not something she wanted to do right then so instead she said… "These new fancy locks take a touch Am nae quite up on. Ya need an electronics degree ta stand a chance o' breakin' tha code. We'd still end up blowing tha door an' though I can probably do it without killin' us all, I cannae guarantee it."
"Well, we need ta come up wit' something ta tell Keenan or wa're stuck wit' a bloodbath or givin' tha job a pass an' riskin' blowin' our cover... He'll never give us a job again an' ya know it, especially after all those guns ya delivered turned out ta be useless... Keenan needs a win an' McKevitt needs one even more. He needs ta show tha world tha Real IRA mean business."
"Fiona… Sean…"
The siblings spun around and, at the sight of Michael McBride emerging from his sister's bedroom, Sean leapt to his feet. With his features suffused with anger, he made to launch himself over the back of the couch to get his hands on the other man.
"Whot tha feck…? Fiona, let tha feck go o' me nar! Am gonna kill tha bastid!"
"Sit yar arse down!" The younger woman pulled on the back of her firebrand brother's jacket, forcing the older man to do exactly what she had ordered. "An' stop actin' tha maggot. Ya know all about me an' McBride. Besides tis none o' yar business whot I do in me own home."
"Tis me feckin' business when ya let me speak out while ya have one o' Keenan's feckin' supporters listenin' in ta our every word... He has ta go!" He might have let his sister force him back onto the couch, but she wasn't able to stop him drawing his handgun from the waistband of his jeans and pointing the weapon at her boyfriend.
"He's known who I am fer over a month," Fiona blurted, thankful that the man in the center of the argument was keeping his mouth shut and his hands raised in a non-threatening pose. She reached out slowly and gently pushed her sibling's hand down, her own hand closing over the pistol as she continued to speak. "He helped me sabotage tha guns we picked up in Derry... He's on our side, I promise ya. I trust ham completely."
"Yer a feckin' idjit then an' tha lovestruck fool thot Liam has been callin' ya behind yar back."
"Sean, Am nae tha enemy," McBride spoke softly. "I admit I still donnae believe we can trust tha Brits ta keep thar word or thot this peace process will work out. They want ta much fram us... But I care about Fiona more than I care about followin' a cause which is gonna lead ta a lot more bloodshed. Whether ya'll believe me or nae, I promise I would never do anythin' ta hurt yar sister."
The young couple watched with bated breath as her brother digested the words of her new boyfriend. For a few seconds more, Sean continued to glare at the man who was obviously not only sharing his sister's bed but was now sharing in her secrets too.
"Fine, if ya trust ham, I'll do tha same taa..." Sean returned his weapon to its place in the back of his jeans waistband. "But ya won't mind if I keep an eye on ya, will ya McBride?"
"I have nothin' ta hide," the dark haired man smiled back as he crossed the room to join his girlfriend. "An' I might be able ta solve yar problem." He glanced down and gestured with a tilt of his chin to the diagram laid out on the coffee table. "D'ya mind?"
"You have an idea?" Sean scoffed at the thought of this civilian with no affiliation to any group knowing anything useful. "Knock yarself out, boyo... Show us whot ya've got."
While Fiona sat down on the couch next to her brother, McBride knelt down on the floor on the opposite side of the table and quickly scanned the diagram, nodding to himself as he thought through what he was going say.
"So, first off let's make sure I heard ya right. We cannae go through tha front gate wit'out getting bloody. We cannae cut through tha fence, nae only cuz o' tha twelve thousand volts which would fry us, but because thar ar' cameras we cannae get ta. An' then thar is tha fancy lock which we donnae know if we can break wit'out makin' a big crater whar a compound used ta be... Is thot about right?"
"All apart fram tha 'we' bit, aye," Sean replied.
"So how about if we – ya can get in wit'out being seen?"
"Yer a magic man nar, ar' ya? Ya have a machine thot with a push o' a button ya can teleport us inside like one o' those Star Trek fellas?" the sandy haired man laughed.
"No, Am sayin' tha driver who supplied all tha intel sneaks someone in on tha back o' his lorry."
Michael held up a hand to stop another outburst while at the exact same moment Fiona's elbow rammed hard into her brother's side.
"Shut it, I wanna hear whot he has ta say," the redhead ordered, then smiled warmly at the man kneeling opposite her. "Please continue, me pig ignorant brother is gonna keep his gob shut if he knows whot tis good fer ham."
Ducking his head in an unsuccessful effort to hide his smile of amusement, McBride got back to what he was saying.
"Tis sommit I've seen work befer," he explained. "While I was in Italy, thar wa' a job ta steal a load o' computer parts thot wa' being held in a locked warehouse. We made a false wall in tha back o' another truck an' a woman hid in tha space. A driver on our payroll took har inside an' then all she had ta do wa' break into tha lorry we wanted an' drive it out. She crashed through tha gates while a couple o' us gave har covering fire."
The siblings looked at each other as if silently trading thoughts. They were the closest of all Maeve and Patrick Glenanne's children and at times, especially in times of danger, acted as if they could read each other's minds.
"It could work," Fiona muttered.
"Aye, if Keenan can be talked inta getting McKevitt ta give up his source... Wa're gonna need tha driver in on this fer it ta stand a chance." Sean turned his attention back to the drawing. "Okay then, James Bond, so yar plan gets us inside tha compound, but nae inta tha warehouse. Whot do we do about tha guards an' thar big doggies an' tha lock on tha door?"
McBride swallowed and then pointed to the trees about half a mile from the compound. "Ya have snipers hidden in tha trees watchin' through thar scopes. They can let whoever goes inside know when it's clear ta move. Tha fella who's goin' in will need a hydraulic spreader ta get inta tha truck. Am guessing tis armored an' thar gonna have ta know how ta hot wire it."
The dark haired man tapped his finger on the appropriate portion of the drawing before continuing.
"As fer tha door, we need ta find out more about tha lock ta see if thar is a way around it… Or why nae cut a hole in tha wall or go through tha roof...? We've all broken inta buildings befer, we all know thot security devices ar' generally work one way. They keep people in or out, right? An' fram whot I've heard, most high security locks ar' a lot less secure if ya come at tham backwards."
Fiona smiled with quiet pride as she saw the sense in her boyfriend's strategy. It wa' genius, sommit neither she nor Sean had even considered.
"Well, feck me sideways," Sean said, grinning broadly. Leaning forward, the wiry Irishman slapped his sister's beau on the back. "Thot is bloody brilliant... Am glad nar me lil sis stopped me fram shootin' ya."
For the next hour, the trio worked on the strategy McBride had come up with and then just before lunchtime, Sean left to join Patrick Keenan for a meeting with Michael McKevitt, the man who along with his wife had broken away from the Provisional IRA to set up his own rival and far more radical organization. His job was to convince the two men that the plan they had come up with was by far more likely to succeed than Keenan's own idea. All it was going to take to make it work was for McKevitt to give up the identity of his contact working for the demolition company.
"We should be at thot meeting," McBride grumbled as Sean disappeared through the front door. "Ya know I like yar brother, but he's nae exactly tha diplomatic type."
"An' I suppose ya think ya ar'?" Fiona replied, her hands slipping about her lover's waist. Michael McBride had surprised her again, this time with his sharp mind coming up with a plan neither she nor Sean would have ever come up with. She liked it. It wa' like tha Trojan horse in tha Greek plays.
"I donnae think I could do any worse."
"Aye, but yer nae a Glenanne an' thot name at times like this means a lot." She pressed a kiss to his lips to take the sting out of her words and then added an explanation. "They'll listen ta ham cuz he wa' tha man who commanded tha bombing campaign in London an' Manchester an' they need both him an' me if they ever want ta pull off sommit big." She kissed him again, this time sucking on his bottom lip. "O' course wa're never gonna let tham pull off anythin' we don't want tham ta."
He was returning her kisses now, his hands beginning to travel downwards to caress and squeeze her buttocks. The urge to jump and wrap her legs about his waist and let him carrying her back to the bedroom or throw her down on the couch was great. But even as she tensed to launch herself onto him, he released her and stepped back.
"We should have something ta eat an' then go over tha plan... I mean, if yer sure Sean can do his part, then we should make sure wa're ready at our end taa."
"Ya would rather go over strategy… than go over me?" the young woman pouted. This wa' a new side ta McBride an' she wa' nae sure she liked it.
"Later," he promised, smiling down at her, just a tiny lift in the corners of his mouth while his rough calloused palms gently stroked up and down her arms. "I'll make it up ta ya later, me luv."
He touched his lips to her forehead and then stepped back even further. "Let's get sommit ta eat... I'll do us a tuna salad, eh? I saw ya had some fresh lettuce an' spring onions in tha fridge."
"Ya want salad… fer lunch…? Ya have nae had any breakfast yet an' wa're planning on a late night. Ya will have a decent meal in ya first." She was still getting used to Michael's odd eating habits; salads, yogurt and bottled water were the staples of Mr. McBride's diet when left to his own devices.
Fiona had guessed it had to do with all those years spent in Italy, especially as he'd made mention of looking after his sick mother, which had affected his eating choices. Well, it would nae do. He wa' back home in Ireland nar an' he should be eating like a proper Irishman...Nae wonder tha was nae an inch o' fat on ham anywhare... Nae thot she was complaining about thot, nae really.
"Am gonna fry up some bacon an' sausages. We'll have them in sandwiches along wit' some cheese."
"If thot's whot ya want."
"Wa're gonna need tha energy fer whot we've got planned. Go sit down an' do yar strategizing an' I'll bring ya a cuppa through once I've got tha sausages on."
Having checked the water level, she switched on the electric kettle to boil and then took out the fresh pack of sausages she had brought from the butchers the day before. With the oil heating in the frying pan, she pricked the skins of the sausages and then paused.
God help me! Hare Am slavin' away in tha kitchen after telling me man ta sit down an' rest. Whot tha hell, Am turnin' inta me mammy…
Placing the sausages into the pan, the redhead turned to where the kettle had just switched itself off and after dropping two teabags into the teapot, she poured in the boiled water. She barely knew Michael McBride an' she wa' treatin' ham like he wa' more like a husband than a man she had only truly known fer just over a month... Wa' he right when he said he wa' scared things war movin' taa fast? Is thot whot had really sent ham scurrying off last weekend?
The petite paramilitary peered into the living room and watched as her dark haired lover intently pored over the diagrams Sean had left behind. He had a pen in his hand and was writing notes on a pad of paper balanced on his knees.
The man she was beginning to think she could truly love was an enigma. This new side to him both thrilled her and was at the same time a little troubling. He had told her he had been a driver for an Italian criminal family, that he had learned all his fighting and shooting skills from his Mafioso bosses. It had explained why his fighting style was just a touch more polished than a lad brought up in Kilkenny should be. Now it seemed he had other skills and that excited her in more way than one. If he really wa' as good as he thought wa' then she saw tham creating a whole load o' mayhem together on both sides o' tha border.
Turning back to the meat sizzling in the pan, she turned the sausages over and then added several strips of bacon to the pan before going back to the tea brewing in the pot. Making two mugs of steaming liquid, she carried them through to the living room.
"So, ar' ya finished wit' yar scheming?"
"Nae yet, I wa' thinkin' we should go out an' get tha wood ta make tha false wall an' in case they check it out, we should get hold o' a thermal blanket ta block tha body heat if they run a sensor over tha truck."
"I know someone who can lend us a blanket. Tha wood can wait 'til Sean gets back. All this relies on McKevitt giving up his contact... Ya had a good idea, McBride, but donnae get ahead o' yarself," she counselled. It amused her how intense he was about getting this job right.
They ate in companionable silence, munching through the protein and fat filled meal while studying the drawings. Fiona wasn't saying anything at the moment, but she had already decided she was going to be the one who sneaked inside the compound. After all, she was the best one for the job. She was the smallest and would be the easiest to hide. She had the skills to get inside and to hot wire the armoured lorry.
With the meal finished and the plates stacked on the edge of the coffee table, Fiona moved closer to her man, snuggling up against him until he raised his arm so she could settle in, wrapped in his embrace.
"McBride, yer takin' this far taa seriously. Ya need ta take a break." She rested the flat of her hand above the waist band of the cargo pants he was wearing. "Have ya nae heard thot all work makes Michael a dull boy?"
"No, I've nae-" She stopped his words with a kiss, her mouth sealing over his, her hands now on either side of his head holding him still.
A second later as he surrendered to her demands and parted his teeth so their tongues could swirl together, she slipped astride him so she was sitting on his lap.
"Nar whar war we before me brother so rudely interrupted?" She gazed at him with lust in her eyes.
"Ah, Fi… Fiona."
She kissed him again, not giving him a chance to refuse her touch, her fingers now making short work of the buttons of his shirt until she could reach the smooth soft skin beneath. Har wa' a man who could shoot a gun, brawl wit' tha best o' them, an' nar he had shown he wa' smart enough ta plan a robbery... God, Michael McBride wa' spoiling har.
She sighed as large hands pushed her T-shirt up and then reached behind to undo her bra. She arched into him, her lips parting with pleasure as those work roughened hands kneaded her breasts, his strong fingers pinching and pulling on her nipples which sent her nerve endings crazy.
This wasn't enough, she wanted more. She pushed him back, her hands reaching for the buckle of his belt. She desired every single bit of him.
But suddenly, he froze, dropping his hands from her chest to close over hers, pinning them together.
"Fi, hold on a minute, luv… I donnae think this is a good idea."
Those words nearly killed her, her whole body was now on fire. How could he say no now?
"Ya don't want ta?" she asked softly, her hurt plainly visible in her eyes.
"O' course I do, darlin' girl. Jaysus, how can ya even ask thot? Nae, tis more thot Sean could be back any minute nar an' I've already had him threaten ta shoot me once today. I donnae trust his control if he walks in on us a second time."
"Sean is gonna be gone fer hours an' ya know it."
"He might be, but if he is nae... Listen, Am meeting yar whole family in less than forty eight hours, so let's nae upset tha only one o' yar kin who's on me side."
"Sean is nae tha only one an' ya know thot taa. I'll be thar ta hold yar hand an' Sean's Rosie… She loves ya taa. She thinks yer…" Fiona realized almost a second too late what she was about to say and quickly added. "tha one keepin' Sean outta trouble," she finished lamely.
"Well, thot's good ta know," he grinned, edging closer to place a tender kiss on her still pouting lips. "I promise I'll make it up ta ya later tonight. Think o' it as anticipation adding ta tha fun."
"An-tici-pation," she enunciated each syllable as if savoring the word. "I have high expectations fer later, Mr. McBride."
"I promise ya, it'll be worth tha wait." He chuckled softly and then reached around her to help fasten the bra he had undone a few minutes ago. "We should find something else ta occupy our time. Me self control only goes so far, you know."
"I've noticed thot," she smiled back. Whot wa' going on between them…? She wa' actin' like a love struck teenager an' he wa' nae much better. "Nar, if ya donnae want ta make out, ya can go strip tha bed. After last night an' this morning I think clean sheets ar' in order. After thot, tha oven could do wit' a clean… though come ta think o' it Am better with chemicals, so I'll see ta thot. Ya can do tha bathroom," Fiona finished with a huge smirk.
She did her best not to laugh at the way her lover's head dropped down and his smile turned into a frown. "Get ta it, McBride, times a wastin'."
()()()()()()
They had gotten tha go ahead.
Sean grinned and slapped his hands down on the steering wheel of his Ford Sierra. He had been surprised at how little he'd had to do say or do to convince both the shot caller and the head of the RIRA to go along with McBride's strategy. One look at the plan they had drawn up between them and a quick explanation of the benefits to the organization that pulling off such an audacious raid would bring and it was a go.
"We need ta show tha world wa're nae just a bunch o' lunatics. This will prove thot we have tha skills ta plan an' pull off a raid wit'out razin' a large part o' tha Irish countryside. Thot wa're nae tha bunch o' criminals tha press says we ar'."
"Tis bloodshed an' bodies on tha ground, thot's whot gets us on tha front page o' tha papers an' in tha news," Keenan had protested.
"Ya donnae think, stealin' three ton o' high grade explosives is gonna be publicity enough? An' leavin' tha good folks o' Fleenstown an' tha surroundin' area alive an' in one piece will get us more support than murderin' a town full o' civilians will bring?" He had argued back.
It wasn't that he was totally against causing as much mayhem as possible, but not when it brought about the deaths of innocents. Luckily, McKevitt had agreed with him.
"Tha lad is right, Pat. This will show tha world wa're a serious threat. With all thot dynamite in our hands tha Brit's an' thot bloody bastid Blair will be shittin' in thar boots."
With the leader of the RIRA on his side, it had only been a matter of minutes before Pat Keenan changed his tune and was singing his praises too by pointing out that it had been himself who had recruited the two youngest Glenannes to their cause.
After that, he hadn't even had to push for the details of the mystery driver; McKevitt had given up his contact with barely a blink of his eyes, even calling the man right there and then ordering him to cooperate with the Glenannes. It had been a fine moment.
Taking a deep breath, the sandy haired paramilitary looked out of his side window up to Fiona's dingy little Belfast flat. It wa' time ta break tha news thot tha job wa' on.
He let the breath out in a long sigh. Finding out that his little sis had spilled the beans on their true purpose in leaving the Provo and taking up with the Real IRA had shaken him to the core. Tha girl wa' just as Liam had said, a love struck fool... But what really hurt was that he had been the one to introduce McBride to his sister and it had been his own wife who had encouraged the relationship at every turn. They had both only wanted ta see Fiona happy fer once.
She had always had a waspish temper, which at times had made her hard to like, especially after she returned from parading around Europe on the arm of Armand Andreani. Thar wa' no talkin' ta her some days an' no one had dared ta ask whot had happened between tham thot she had left tha man.
But after their baby sister had been cut down, Fiona had changed for the worse, her acidic temper had faded to be replaced by almost maniacal determination to wipe out every Brit, protestant and soldier she could get within her sights... She had even taken up with the hooligan Tommy O'Neill, the one person in Ireland whose name was bound to send their oldest brother and head of the family into a tailspin, not that Liam hadn't already been on edge with trying to hold the family together while also dealing with PIRA business.
Not content with smashing the younger man's teeth out with a hammer, the head of the clan had then had the boy sealed into an empty oil drum and shipped over to Spain to be dumped outside his psychotic sister's back door. Sean shivered at the remembrance of it, even if O'Neill had deserved it.
He closed his eyes and pushed those memories back into the furthest reaches of his sub-conscious. He had been away for most of the first year after Claire's murder, having been packed off to London and then Manchester to coordinate the PIRA's bombing campaign.
Sean Glenanne had made quite the name for himself over there and back home, having managed to cause optimum chaos with very little loss of life. It had raised the profile of the Provo and so cowed the British government that it had gotten the PIRA political leaders a seat at the Peace Process table.
It had also been while holed up in London he had met the very young Rosanna Flanagan, the oldest daughter of his host. To say that it was inappropriate for them to have even considered being in a relationship was a gross understatement. But it had been the blonde sixteen year old, with a sweet sunny disposition which had reminded him so much of Claire's, who had brought him back from the brink, pulling him out of the grief and sorrow for the loss of his sister which had filled his soul.
It had also been the driving force in his decision in allowing the unknown nobody Michael McBride to court his one remaining sister, his hope being that the rather quiet man fresh home from the Continent would do for Fiona what Rosie had done for him and finally heal her hurt. Had his recent phone call ta Liam ruined thot chance now?
"I've got ya a name, Oisin Brody. I have his mobile number 08602 -"
"Ferget tha number, Colin can work off tha name. We know whare he works, so it won't take long ta find out all about ham... I'll leave tha trackers in tha usual spot. Make sure ya hide tham properly. Tis nae good if they get found five minutes after they arrive at whare thar goin'."
"Ya donnae think I know how ta place a tracker?"
"Am just remindin' ya. Nar, whot's goin' on with Fiona? Why is she nae wit' ya?"
He could have kept his mouth shut but their little sister's recent confession was too dangerous to ignore.
"She's keepin' house with McBride," he'd informed his big brother.
"Whot's thot supposed ta mean?"
"I didnae tell ya then as I didnae think it wa' a big deal. But thot gun deal in Derry… I let Fi take McBride wit' har." His own confession that he had, if not exactly lied about who was accompanying their youngest sibling, certainly misled his big brother had been difficult to make. But it seemed Liam was already one step ahead of him as usual.
"I already know about thot. She missed me calls an' then when she did get ahold o' me, I could tell she wa' up ta sommit. So I checked out tha hotel she wa' stayin' at… A double room fer Mr. and Mrs. Addams… Whot else has she done?"
"He wa' thar in her bedroom this morning. He came out just as I wa' tellin' har about tha job... She admitted ta me thar and then thot she'd told ham everythin'. Thot wa're workin' fer tha provo, thot wa're hare ta destroy tha so called Real IRA."
"Shite, tha stupid feckin' mare! An' tha little bastid is still alive? Whot's got inta ya? Ya shoulda put ham down straight off."
"She says she's turned ham ta our way o' thinkin', thot he's workin' with us. He's tha one thot came up with tha plan ta get us tha dynamite... An' seeing them together, havin' listened ta tha way he talks about it, about har, I believe ham taa," Sean had tried to explain why he hadn't used his gun to end the problem, but it was obvious that Liam hadn't seen it the same way.
"We'll have ta see about thot on Sunday... We'll get tha women ta keep Fiona outta tha way an' have a word wit' Michael McBride ourselves. See if he gets ta leave in one piece or nae at all... Don't let on ta Fi... An' donnae warn tha fecker either... Nar get on wit' tha job, ya soft bugger."
So now he was stuck. Instead of playing cupid, as Rosie liked to put it, he was the one who, if Liam wasn't satisfied the boy meant no harm, was going to be the instigator of breaking his sister's heart.
"Shite," he huffed and opened his car door. "Am just gonna have ta make sure this job goes without a hitch. Mabbe thot will be enough ta keep McBride in one piece."
With his vehicle locked and after one quick look up and down the street, Sean ran up the flight of stairs and made his way to his sister's front door, his eyes widening in shock when Fiona answered his knock and he witnessed the sight of Michael McBride folding sheets, in readiness to put them into the tumble dryer.
()()()()()()
"Well, nae one o' those diagrams Keenan gave us showed this," Michael McBride commented while lying flat on his stomach staring through a set of binoculars at their target.
"It certainly does away wit' tha need fer ya ta be climbing trees. Ya will have a perfect view o' tha whole place fram hare," Fiona spoke to her sibling who was positioned on her left, while her boyfriend was lying a little closer on her right hand side.
"Aye, Am glad we left thot bloodthirsty hooligan Keenan behind." Sean's mind was obviously elsewhere, as he kept up his surveillance. "With five or six good men, ya could take everyone o' those guards out an' waltz inside without even a bye yar leave."
"But wa're nae gonna do thot, ar' we?" McBride looked past his lover to stare into her brother's blue-green eyes.
"No need fer ya ta kak yar pants, Mikey. Wa're doin' it yar way. I hate ta admit it but it has a lot more style an' a lot lower body count. Tis jus' a shame this shower wa're doin' tha stealin' fer is gonna get all tha credit."
Murphy's Dismantling and Demolition, Fleenstown Depot, was set in the middle of a natural basin in the landscape, which meant even from a half mile away, whether using a set of binoculars or peering through a sniper scope, there was an excellent view of the whole compound.
"So, have ya seen enough?" Sean spoke again.
"I'd like a bit longer -"
"Tis fine, Michael," Fiona cut over his words. "We've seen all we need ta."
"Dontcha think we should wait an' see if they stick ta tha same patrol pattern? We've only watched tham walk around once, tis nae long enough."
"Trust me, McBride, me an' Sean have been doin' this sorta thing a lot longer than ya have... Just follow our lead an' it'll be fine."
He wa' nervous, twas sweet really... She stroked her fingers down her lover's leather jacketed arm, conscious that her brother was on her other side and watching their every move.
"Fine then, let's go." McBride shrugged off her touch and wriggled back, only getting to his feet once he was sure he was out of sight to anyone working for Murphy's who might have been scanning the horizon.
"Ar' ya sulking…?" She smirked as she joined him, the slight pout and the pointed way he was refusing to make eye contact suggested to her that was exactly what her boyfriend was doing
"Leave ham alone, Fiona." Her brother's fist connected her arm in passing, hard enough for her to feel but not so hard to leave a bruise. "Ignore har, McBride. She always get like this befer a job. Yammerin' away… she's worse than tha old biddies ya see in tha paper shop."
He danced away as his little sister swung her fist at his head, his laughter only inflaming the red head's temper even more as he added, "I swear befer now I've thought about stuffin' a sock in har mouth just ta shut har up."
"Tis alright, Sean," McBride answered, grabbing a hold of his girlfriend only to let go again when her sharp bony elbow connected with his stomach "Fi- Fiona, Am nae sulkin', I jus' think wa're rushin' things a bit, thot's all."
Skipping out of the reach of both her brother and boyfriend, the petite Irishwoman grinned at her victory against the two men. She wa' really glad nar thot she had nae tossed her brother out on his ear when he came callin' earlier on. If she had ta miss out on a day in bed wit' McBride, getting' ta rob a demolition company o' its explosives war tha next best thing... An' thare would be still be time fer har an' McBride ta catch up on whare they had left off later on.
"Fiona, ar' ya listenin' ta me? If we could jus'– "
"Ferget it, McBride, tha bloody woman is loony tunes once she gets tha scent o' black powder, all sense goes outta tha window."
Knowing that Sean's teasing was his way of breaking the tension, Fiona ignored her brother and instead turned her full attention onto the man who was at her side. She knew her dark haired lover had been involved on a very low level with the Italian Mafia in Milan, mostly as a driver and on occasion as muscle. But this type of operation was new to him and his nervousness was showing in his hesitation and wanting to double check everything. The trouble was she didn't have the time to talk him through a robbery of this scale. He wa' goin' ta have ta learn as he went along.
"Keenan is back in Dundalk supervising tha false wall," she patiently explained as they started to walk back to where they had left Sean's car. "Fram whot I heard last, tha driver, Brody, is scared thot his boss will check on his time sheets an' see he stopped fer taa long. So we donnae have tha luxury o' spending all day checkin' on tha security."
"Besides," she continued, bumping her hip against him, pretending to stumble. Then as he took hold of her arm to steady her, she whispered in his ear. "Aren't looking forward ta our bodies bein' pressed up against each other in the dark, all alone, fer hours..."
"Fer tha love o' God, will ya pack it in tha pair o'ya?" Fiona's older brother complained. "I feel like am babysittin' a coupla teenagers... Ya keep this up in front o' our mam or Liam an' I guarantee ya, they'll be nailin' Mikey boy's hide ta tha wall."
Reaching his silver colored Ford Sierra, Sean took one more look at his sister smiling happily up at her boyfriend and scowled. "Fi, get in tha front... Ya an' McBride ar' gonna be spendin' plenty o' time holdin' hands later."
()()()()()()
It took just over an hour to reach the derelict factory on the edge of Dundalk where the tall, heavy set blond who had over seen Fiona's recruitment into the Real IRA was now busy overseeing the building of the false wall in the back of Oisin Brody's twenty foot container lorry.
"Am gonna head straight back an' get set up," Sean informed the young couple as soon as he brought his car to a stop. "I wanta find tha best spot fer me sniper perch befer ya get thar... An' I'll get ta see if tha guards stick ta tha same route taa." This last part was being directed at McBride.
"Good, ya do thot. Come along, Michael…" Eager to get on with the job, Fiona was already out of her brother's ride, her mind fully focused on the burly bearded man walking hurriedly in their direction. "We'll be seein' ya soon, Sean."
"Remember whot I said ta ya, McBride. Ya look after me sister... Try an' keep har out o' trouble." And then the youngest of the Glenanne boys was gone before the fast approaching Pat Keenan could give him any last minute unwanted advice.
"Fiona, me darlin' girl, tis lovely ta see ya… McBride..." The older man reached their side as Sean disappeared from sight. "I wa' hopin' fer a quick word wit' Sean. I wanted ta send a coupla o' me own people wit' ham, just in case."
"Me brother wanted ta make sure he's in position by tha time we get thar." Fiona smiled up at the blond, placing a light kiss to his cheek. "Ya know how he is."
"Aye, Am nae happy about tha three o' ya doin' this alone; tis is an important job. It cannae fail." Ignoring the dark haired newcomer, he caught hold of Fiona's hand and tucked it under his arm as he led the way towards the truck.
"Ya brought us in because wa're tha best at whot we do. Ya jus' have ta trust us ta get it done... Have ya nae heard o' taa many cooks spoil tha broth, Patrick? Twas a favorite sayin' o' me da's." Glancing over her shoulder, she had hoped to see a glimmer of jealousy in her lover's eyes. But instead Mr. McBride's expression was annoyingly neutral as he followed behind.
"Yer gonna have ta climb over all tha junk Brody has in tha back." Keenan helped her climb up into the rear of the container truck, his hands lingering almost inappropriately. "Tis mostly scaffolding gear, poles, clamps, harnesses an' boards, thot sorta thing..."
He led the way, picking over the equipment to reach the back where two of his men were putting the finishing touches to the wooden board which made up the false wall.
"Nar, Brody told me tha guards normally jus' wave ham on through, but when thar movin' sommit like dynamite, they beef up tha security. So, ta keep ham quiet, we've made tha gap in tha back as narrow as we can. Tis lucky neither one o' ya has any meat on ya bones, I couldnae fit in tha if me life depended on it." He laughed and slapped a hand on his belly to make his point before continuing. "We've put a bag in thar already wit' yar radio, tha spreader, tham small charges o' yars an' tha silenced drill ya asked fer."
He slid his fingers into a narrow gap between the newly built wall and the metal side of the container and eased the panel out to make a small opening. "It'll be a tight squeeze fer sure. When tis time ta come out, yer gonna have ta give it a hard shove on this end cuz once yer inside, wa're gonna put a coupla tacks in just ta stop it fallin' down if thot Brody fella hits a bump in tha road."
"It looks good, thank ya, Pat." Fiona smiled warmly and then ducked under the older man's arm and squeezed herself through the gap he had made into the narrow compartment, which had been lined with thermal blankets just as Michael had suggested. A moment later, her boyfriend joined her.
"We'd best get comfy. Wa're gonna be in hare fer at least three hours." McBride slowly lowered himself to the floor, his shoulders rubbing against each side of the enclosure as he slid down so he could stretch out his legs along the floor and rest his back against the side of the lorry.
In the near dark, she could barely make out his outline. Not that she had to see him to envision his slim, muscular frame dressed in black lounging there on the floor of the container, nor did it take much imagination to see his deep blue eyes staring up at her, or the corners of his mouth tilting up into make that soft boyish smile which she found so enchanting.
"Good idea." She kicked his legs apart and then lowered herself into the space she had made, wriggling her bottom to fit into the gap between his legs. Resting her head back against his shoulder, she smiled up at him. "Cozy, is it nae?"
"Cozy? If ya say so…"
Before very long, the truck began to move the rocking motioning causing her to rub against him.
"Fi, d'ya think ya could try an' keep still?"
"I'll do me best," she answered with a smile, which as they went over a bump and her buttocks ground against the front of her lovers crotch, turned into a grin.
Three hours trapped in small space was going to be boring and it was almost impossible to sit still when her veins were filled with adrenaline. Surely tha wa' better ways ta spend thar time alone?
"Can ya nae at least try ta sit still?" McBride's breath tickled her ear as he grumbled about her hips swaying and jerking along with the movement of the container as the driver sitting in the cab altered his speed and changed gear.
"Yer nae makin' it easy fer me either ya know, with yar great big pole stuck in me back. I think gettin' interrupted this mornin' an' yar damned concern fer upsetting me brother has affected yar self-control…" She smirked as he attempted to change his position but to no avail.
"Great…big… pole, is it?" Each word was laced with innuendo. "Ya think I have a great big – Uh!"
She ended his little speech with a sharp dig into his side with her elbow.
"Donnae get taa full o' yarself, McBride. Though, if ya want ta play-" Fiona left the sentence hanging and instead took hold of his wrist and directed his hand to her left breast over the top of her thin black woolen jumper, holding it in place. "We do have tha time."
"Fi…" There was a warning note in his tone, which made her pout. They had been in the compartment for less than a half hour, so they had at least another half hour until they reached the compound they were attempting to infiltrate. "Ya're nae fun, McBride."
"Wa're on a job, girl, will ya focus? Nar is nae tha time fer this."
The tiny terrorist pressed back into him and when he tried to move his hand away from her chest, she redirected it to between her legs, letting him feel how warm she was down there even though the thick material of the dark-colored combat trousers she was wearing.
"We have plenty 'o time left ta cure whot ails ya."
"Whot ails me is-"
Scooting forward, she felt behind her, reaching for the tricolor belt buckle he always wore. If he was nae gonna take tha hint, she'd have ta take 'things' in hand herself.
Making quick work of the buckle and the waistband button, her hand slipped inside his pants. "Thar is thot nae better?"
He stiffened and forcibly captured her wrist before pulling her hand out of where it had gone and back in front of her. "Dammit, wa're workin' har, Fiona! If someone hears-"
His tone had taken on a hint of menace, his hold on her wrist tight enough to be painful and his hot breathe breathing down her neck… which was a complete and utter turn on for the petite paramilitary with a penchant for violence.
"Am a professional Michael, I know how ta be quiet. When it tis necessary." Not in the least frightened by the angry male holding her so tightly, she leaned forward and licked the back of the hand threatening to break to her wrist.
"Ya think ya can keep quiet, do ya? Ya willnae make a sound whotever I do?" His voice changed yet again and now there was more than just a hint of menace. He took hold of both her wrists in one large hand and then, with a sudden jerk, pulled her body tightly up against him. "Ar' ya gonna behave nar?"
Behave? Who tha hell did he think he wa' an' had he forgotten who she wa' as well?
The fiery redhead tilted her head back as far as she could, her mouth opening and then her jaw snapping shut, her teeth narrowly missing his chin.
"Am a Glenanne an' we never surrender."
She gasped out the words as her boyfriend surprised her for the umpteenth time that day when his legs moved and all of a sudden hers were being pinned down against the sides of the compartment.
"In thot case I see nae choice," he snarled low into her ear as his free hand snaked about her body and then her own belt buckle and the front of her trousers were undone. "Not… one… single… sound... outta ya. D'ya hear me, girl? Unless ya mean fer me tae stop."
She clamped her lips shut as her eyes went wide and her heart began to pound in her chest, sending blood pumping to every nerve in her body as slowly, inch by inch, his hand glided down over her belly, slipping inside her knickers, his fingers splaying out to comb through the soft curls of light brown hair until finally reaching her warm moist center.
"Remember, nar, yer tha one thot started this, ya practically begged fer it."
With a touch so light it took all of the young woman's self-control not to cry out for more, his fingers slipped between the soft sleek folds not quite reaching the place where she longed for him to touch. She squirmed against him, but his hold upon her only tightened.
Fiona was trapped in the dark, in the arms of a man far stronger than herself who could if he wanted do anything he liked to her and yet she knew without a doubt that at a single sound from her, he would stop... Oh jaysus feckin' christ please lord let me keep me big mouth shut...
And it was truly turning into quite the challenge, as her lover brushed over her most sensitive spot with only the barest of touches mirrored by the light stroking of his tongue over the shell of her ear, his hot breathe sending shivers throughout her restrained frame.
Then suddenly he withdrew his hand and she bit her lip hard to keep herself from begging for more.
He wa' nae gonna leave har like thot, wa' he? But his fingers squeezed her right breast as though checking a fruit for ripeness before his thumb stroked across the middle, searching for her nipple and chuckling lowly when it hardened under his ministrations.
She wanted to wiggle against him, to put more pressure on that part of his body that was sticking in her back, but Michael held her so tightly she couldn't move at all, the pressure against her wrists was almost frightening, as was his power which she'd yet to see demonstrated to its full extent before now.
So determined was she not to let a sound escape from her lips that she withheld a sigh of utter bliss when his hand returned to her womanhood to begin teasing her again.
Uncertain how long he'd held her there on the brink of a massive orgasm, Fiona was barely able to stifle the sigh of anticipation when finally one finger entered her. She could feel him curling the digit rubbing against her walls, lightly brushing against the small nub of nerves deep inside with a teasingly gentle touch.
She flinched and would have cried out as his teeth nipped her earlobe and then moved on to the spot at the top of her shoulder, which sent her already burning desire into overload.
One finger was joined by another and then a third, pumping in and out of her, his palm rubbing hard over her clitoris with every stroke. The pleasure was becoming too much to bear… Unable to move and with the knowledge that even a whimper would bring an immediate end to this sweet torture, Fiona rode the wave of mind blowing delight all the way without making the slightest sound until her body was a quivering wreck.
"M- M-"
He stopped instantly, the fingers which had brought her so much pleasure were still inside her, but now unmoving, as she could feel herself pulsing against them as her body continue to jerk in post orgasmic bliss.
"Ya want more?" His voice whispered in the dark. "D'ya think ya could -" Then his hand withdrew rapidly, moving swiftly covering her mouth as the truck came to a stop.
"Shhhh nar…." he whispered in her ear, his hold on her tightened even more in an effort to stop any involuntary movement from her limbs.
It seemed like an age before they heard the back of the container being opened and the sound of voices chatting as they ran a check on what Mr. Brody was bringing back inside with him.
"Okay, Pat ya're clear. Park up in yar usual spot an' get off home."
As the doors to the lorry were closed again, Michael finally released his hold upon her and instantly pain shot through her wrists and hands as her blood supply was restored.
"Am sorry…" he whispered again, taking her hands once more in his, but this time in an effort to ease her pain as her fingers slowly came back to life. She scrubbed at her face with the hem of her top, trying to remove the remainder of her own scent from her nose. She let out a long sigh as he did up her pants and belt for her and her heart beat finally settled down.
"Donnae worry yarself. Am fine." It was difficult but after a little manoeuvring she managed to turn around to face him. "More than fine, me darlin' man." Even though it was hard to make out his features, she reached out to cup his cheek in her hand. "Nar is tha anythin' I can do fer ya in return?"
She swayed as the truck came to a stop and then began to reverse into its parking spot, her hand slowly slipping from his cheek to his neck, down to his chest and over his heart, when his hand closed over hers.
"Later, sweetheart... God help me, yer drivin' me crazy. But wa're here nar an' we need ta be ready fer Sean givin' us tha all clear... I donnae want ta be in tha middle o' sommit when we get the call."
Fiona started to say something, but she heard the regret in his voice and decided it was genuine.
Then he leant forward until their foreheads touched and then Michael pressed a soft kiss onto her lips before nipping lightly at her earlobe where his teeth at marked it earlier. Next, his raspy whisper send a jolt of electricity through her body as surely as his warm breath made her shiver.
"Because when we get outta here an' this is over, Am gonna feck yar brains out an' thot's a promise."