Stone of the Heart
Chapter 15
The Delivery
Finally, the outbuilding that Fiona described was spotted, a small stone storage structure on the edge of a cow pasture. They pulled up alongside the building, the armed sentries exiting first, manning positions around the vehicles. Hannon and one other immediately proceeded toward the door and prepared to enter without delay. "Wait!" Michael shouted in alarm causing both to freeze. He brushed passed them, reaching the door first.
He suddenly remembered that Fiona often placed another layer of 'security' on her possessions. "Knowing Fiona, she likely booby-trapped the entry." The spy opened the door a crack and spotted a similar device to the one she had in her flat in Belfast. He cursed her slightly under his breath, thinking that she could have least warned him about this little surprise. Luckily, he was beginning to understand how her mind worked - at least tactically. As for the personal stuff - he was still trying to sort that out. Michael slowly disarmed the contraption allowing for safe passage. Hannon looked relieved that he had not insisted to be the first through the door.
There were three containers placed along the far wall, slightly covered with a tarp. They approached cautiously in case more surprises were in store but found nothing to raise alarm. The arms dealer, now increasingly wary, sent one of his minions in alone with the task of opening the drums and inspecting the contents. When nothing went 'boom', Hannon and Michael entered the space. Two of the drums contained what appeared to be fertiliser, the third a small stockpile of Thompson Machine guns that on initial inspection seemed to date from the time of partition. A tidy profit could be made from collectors once auctioned!
The weapons were carefully removed, wrapped in cloth, and placed within a locker brought for the specific purpose. The oil drum once emptied of its contents was refilled with odd bits of material to give it weight and stability. The containers were resealed, the tarp replaced, and the thieves were ready to slink off into the night. A nod of his head and a small smile let Michael know his services were appreciated. Hannon had an asset with a link to the IRA stockpile, at least temporarily.
No lights appeared. No forces descended upon the team. A quick study of a topographical map led them to realise they were but a few kilometres from the border. They would even be able to avoid the checkpoint if they cut across a few fallow fields. The merchandise secured, the convoy moved out. They moved through the area unimpeded, their journey swift. A few stone walls and some barbed wire slowed their progress but were easily eliminated if they stood between potential capture and freedom.
The sky began to lighten as a paved road appeared in the distance. Sighs of relief and a few strained smiles let Michael know that the worst of the journey was behind him. Hannon turned to his new 'partner'. "Welcome to County Louth, McBride, part of the Republic."
The second vehicle pulled alongside as the arms dealer gave the occupants their next orders. The convoy split apart, the rear car making a U-turn on the A1 and heading back toward Belfast. The lead car would continue on to Dublin and it's environs.
Hannon compartmentalised much of his operation. His foot soldiers needed a limited amount of information. Their job was to point and shoot. Cash awaited them upon their return to the northern city so none felt the need to dawdle. He watched as they drove away to insure no double-dealing was about to occur.
Five remained in the lead car: Hannon, the driver, two armed guards, and Michael. It would take very little to kill Hannon here and now. The American knew he could easily get three shots off but that still left one gunman to turn on him. Not great odds. He also knew that eliminating Hannon was only part of the problem. As despicable as the gunrunner was, the CIA was after a bigger fish, likely whoever took over Kovalenko's operation once he was incarcerated. Shooting Hannon might be satisfying but would eliminate their best conduit to the mass distributor. It would also put an end to his current assignment in Ireland requiring an immediate return to D.C. It would mean leaving her. Michael eased his finger off the trigger.
The drive continued in silence. Tensions had dissipated for the most part, a cursory watch for the Gardaí, as they made their way toward Dublin. The truck slowed as it turned off the main motorway. Michael stealthily placed his finger once again on the trigger, fearing that perhaps his services were no longer required. It would be far easier to dispose of an unwanted body in the countryside. His movements did not go unnoticed.
Hannon chuckled, "Just a vehicle change, McBride. Don't want a repeat of your last job for me. Seems my distributer is getting a bit twitchy. Sent his own guys to 'oversee' my operation. He won't be doing that again. Lost a coupla good men that night. If I wanted you dead, I would have stuffed your lifeless body into that oil drum back there. Let Glennane find you there instead of her precious guns. Which loss do you think would make her weep, man?" He turned toward Michael awaiting his answer but the spy just stared.
"She finds out you betrayed her, stole from her, she'll do worse to you than simply kill you. This fella I knew, Kavanagh, he intercepted one of her shipments once..." He paused, Michael hoping he would continue, wanting to know the fate that could await him if his deception was discovered. "It's amazing what that woman can do with a Taser and a car battery." The car came to a stop and Hannon and his men exited immediately. Michael sat a moment longer as he pondered the gun dealers' words.
They arrived at a garage where a van awaited. "Clontarf Medical Supplies." Michael read aloud the signage on the new vehicle.
"Give us a hand, McBride." One of Hannon's men called out. Together the men lifted the locker out of the truck and transferred it to the new means of transportation. The truck was pulled into the now empty garage, stored away until the next cache of weapons was ready for pickup or delivery. The transfer complete, the team was on their way once more. Michael had a new piece of the puzzle, a lead that would need to be followed.
The concentration of buildings increased the closer they drew to the city. Michael was optimistic that they were headed to Hannon's storage site. He tried not to appear too interested in his surroundings while attempting to glean as much information as possible. The van turned into the Clontarf DART, Dublin Area Rapid Transit, station and parked in the loading zone. "This is your stop, McBride."
Michael looked perplexed. "Don't you need my help to unload the thing?" He wanted to see where the package was to be delivered, how it was to be exported. He needed more time, more Intel.
"We'll manage." Clearly, Hannon was going to take him no further. "My crew will handle the rest. I'll be in touch." Michael had been dismissed, his mobile returned. If he lingered any longer, it would raise suspicion. He nodded, left the vehicle, and watched it pull away, thinking how he wished he had a tracker as the van disappeared from view.
Michael looked around him, clueless as to where he actually was. He dialled her number, she picked up immediately. "Finally!" Fiona breathed a sigh of relief hearing the man's voice. "Where are ya?"
The American read the sign above him, "Clontarf DART station."
"Clontarf?" Fiona was somewhat surprised at the location assuming Hannon would head directly to the city centre or the port itself. "Hop on the train and head toward Greystones. Take the Blackrock stop and I'll meet you at the station." She was ready to end the call but added, "And Michael."
"Yeah, Fi."
"I'm glad you're alive." The call ended and the spy headed toward the ticket machine, anxious to be reunited, anxious to plan their next move.
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After about a 20-minute journey, Michael arrived at the Blackrock station. It was little more than a platform, a small building at the entrance. He spotted her immediately, leaning against her car, the wind blowing her hair in all directions. A smile greeted him as he approached. "Ya made it. I was wonderin' if ya would get lost. Wasn't sure if they had trains in Kilkenny, if ya would know how to buy yerself a ticket." Michael's only response was to glare at her before entering the car.
He looked briefly around him as she began to drive. Blackrock appeared to be a small seaside town just south of the city centre. "Where are we headed?"
"Home." Fiona glanced his way noting his confused expression but he asked nothing further. They drove a short way, soon arriving at a small detached bungalow overlooking the sea. Fiona led the way, Michael following close behind.
This place was quite different than the flat in Belfast. Whereas Fiona's place up north was dark, muted colours, older furniture, few personal touches other than some paintings and stained glass features, this house was all windows and light taking full advantage of the landscape. The rooms were filled with shades of cream, grey, and blue, capturing the feel of the sea beyond. Fiona watched as he took in his surroundings. There were photographs, knickknacks, and flowers, making the home feel inviting and lived in.
Michael moved toward the photos that were displayed. He recognised many of the faces, having met most of them at tea. There was one, however, that he was unable to identify. He picked it up for further inspection. A young girl, blonde and carefree, frolicking in the waves. Claire. He noticed Fiona's pained expression and gently set it down without comment.
Fiona swallowed hard and found her voice. "Tea - or something stronger?"
"Tea's fine, if you have it." Michael tried to get his bearings in these new surroundings, discovering a new dimension to the woman before him.
"Michael, this is Ireland, one of the largest consumers of tea in the bloody world. It's like askin' if we have air." She scowled, thinking he had spent far too much time away from his homeland during his adult years. She turned to put the kettle on, leaving him to continue his inspection.
The bungalow was small. It looked to have a front parlour, a dining area leading to the kitchen, two bedrooms, and a bath. Fiona returned carrying a tea tray, setting it down on a low table. While the tea seeped, he moved over to an étagère in the corner of the room, his attention drawn to an unexpected sight. Four snow globes lined the main shelf. Michael picked one up, facing her with a questioning look. It contained a scene of Parliament and the Big Ben clock tower, something he would never expect her to own much less be so prominently displayed. "Snow globes?" He smiled waiting for the story accompanying the object.
Fiona's expression indicated she was not amused by his attitude, which seemed a bit judgemental about their presence. She moved closer, taking the snow globe from him, replacing it on the shelf. "My father made a trip to London once. He delivered a 'package' there. Picked that up for me at the airport as he was leavin'. He had a successful trip. He did a job. Got out clean - not that I knew that at the time. I recently decided I rather liked the idea so I've started to collect them."
She turned away, ready to play mother and pour the tea. Michael perused the others: Dublin, Belfast, and Tripoli. Fiona had a myriad of other 'jobs' but most were in Ireland in towns without many tourists or gift shops. Tripoli seemed out of place. He faced her with a questioning glance.
"Training camp." Michael turned away wincing slightly at the discovery realising she was likely at some terrorist training centre. These disclosures reminded him of just how impossible their relationship truly was no matter how he justified it. "I hope to add more to my collection, perhaps Paris one day. I've always wanted to go there." She handed him the cup, settled on the sofa, and initiated the debrief. "So, I assume ya relieved me of my Tommyguns, did ya not?"
Michael took a sip, wishing that he had an ice cube to add to the tea. He nodded before adding, a frown clearly visible. "Luckily, I thought to check if the door to that shed was wired or I'd be in pieces right now."
Fiona smiled sweetly. "I gave ya more credit than divin' in blind. Ya know how I like to make things go 'boom'!" He was learning her ways. Surely, he didn't need to be told each detail!
"Hannon played nice. We had no unwanted company. Don't suppose you had anything to do with that?" Michael had been surprised they ran into no opposition after all that he had heard and read about the area.
"An associate of mine might have made a call. Biscuit?" She held a small plate, offering him a sweet, but not providing any details of who might have been called or what might have been said.
Michael shot her look before continuing with the debrief. "He packed up the guns, added ballast to the empty container, and four wheeled it until we crossed the border. Then, he sent the support staff packing." Fiona, a gunrunner herself, nodded. So far, it seemed to be standard operating procedure. "About 15 minutes before the city, we pulled into a garage for a vehicle exchange. Transferred the lot to a service van - ' Clontarf Medical Supplies.' " Michael stopped awaiting her reaction.
"A lead?" Fiona inquired; a hopeful look crossed her face.
"Possibly. More likely a shell company." Michael was not sure if this new information was valuable or not. No false encouragement was forthcoming.
"A dead end then." Fiona tried to ascertain exactly where Michael was headed.
"Not necessarily." Fiona wasn't following, so Michael outlined one possible option. "You are still meeting him this afternoon?"
She nodded. "We're exchanging trucks near Howth." Fiona disliked working with the arms dealer for her personal sales, but the PIRA leadership wanted to continue the relationship. As a foreign national he had access and connections with many sources throughout the world. When one source became difficult or dried up completely, Hannon could tap into another. Disarmament was the wave of the future, especially now that the Agreement was a very real possibility. The IRA wanted to reduce its older stockpile of weapons but amass ammunition for their newer weapons. Fiona wasn't thrilled with the deal that she negotiated but neither was Hannon. Both sides, neither getting the quantity requested, begrudgingly accepted a compromise.
"What's the exchange site like?" Michael needed all the available information to flesh out his idea.
Fiona located a local street map of the area spreading it out on the dining room table. The Irishwoman explained the current plan. "We'll meet here. Switch trucks. Be on our way."
"Guards?" The spy didn't believe Hannon would come alone.
She nodded. "We'll both have a driver and two armed associates." Fiona had made several exchanges over the years with Hannon. There were rarely complications, both wanting the merchandise without attracting attention. Others above them counted on the deal being lucrative and bloodless. Both gunrunners realised their expendability if they were not able to conduct seamless transactions.
"If there was, say to be a third party involved, I assume the best place to be positioned would be here." The spy pointed to an area on the map. Two roads connected at Sutton, one road going north toward Baldoyle, the other heading west toward Clontarf.
"It would be but it's fairly residential. You would have to give him a wide berth. Not sure he could be easily tailed from there without being made." Fiona pointed out the pitfalls of the idea.
Michael grinned. "If it was easy, it wouldn't be fun, now would it?"
Fiona's eyes lit up at the thought. It was a daring plan with a high-risk quotient - just the type of adrenaline rush she relished. The man had secrets, secrets she was trying to sort out, but for now she had found a kindred spirit that shared her love of living life on the edge. It appeared that Fiona Glenanne had her fill of kissing frogs. Now, she just had to try to keep this one alive.
A/N: So grateful to you all for your continued support and feedback. It is truly welcomed and appreciated. I'll be posting another chapter on Friday, as way of thanks. Go raibh maith agaibh !