Day of Reckoning

12

The rain continued relentlessly. Billy was coiling a rope under the awning when a voice called, 'Highlander, ahoy.' Hannah, Helen Black and Regan were standing on the jetty beside a Range Rover, the driver in plain clothes but obviously RAF.

Billy called down the companionway, 'They're here, Dillon.' Dillon came up on deck and looked across. 'Fine. I'll go and get them.'

The inflatable coasted in at the bottom of the steps and Hannah called. 'Everything okay?'

'Absolutely. Let's have the luggage.'

There were only three bags and the driver brought them down. Regan followed, hands manacled again. He held up his wrists to Dillon. 'I might as well be on a Georgia chain gang.'

'You deserve to be, you shite.' Dillon shoved him into the boat. 'Go on, get in there.' He turned to greet the women. 'Sergeant Major, Superintendent. A fast boat and a passage by night. Action, passion, we've got it all here.'

'How riveting,' Helen Black said. 'I can't wait,' and she stepped into the inflatable.

Dillon handed the luggage up to Billy, and Helen climbed in, followed by Hannah. Hannah looked around the Highlander. 'My God, I must say it looks pretty basic.'

'Underneath its lack of a good paint job, it's superb, so don't worry,' Dillon said. 'Just get settled in, stick Sean in the saloon, and let's get on with it.' He turned to Regan. 'Just remember one thing, we're back with the old movies again: one false move and you're dead.'

'Come on, Dillon, you're going to kill me anyway.' 'Not if you're good.'

They put Regan in the saloon, the two women settled into the aft cabin, and Dillon made ready for sea. He took Billy, Hannah and Helen into the wheelhouse and went over the controls, then showed the women the Walther in the fuse box beside the wheel.

'Just in case.'

The sea was starting to flood in through the entrance to the harbour, and the Highlander was rocking from side to side.

Billy said, 'Jesus, I feel terrible,' and he turned, went out on deck, and vomited over the side.

Dillon followed, took a plastic pill bottle from a pocket of his reefer jacket, shook the pills out, and offered them. 'Get them down, Billy. They'll make a difference.'

Hannah said, 'Kindness and consideration from the great Sean Dillon?'

Dillon smiled. 'Sticks and stones, Hannah, not that it matters. We've got to leave if we're to make tonight's schedule, so I've other things to worry about. We'll discuss the plan of attack later. The wind's force five to six at the moment, but it should ease later.'

They left at three, and ploughed out into the turbulent waters, the sea running heavily. Dillon stood at the wheel alone. After a while, Helen Black came in with a mug. 'Tea,' she said. 'I believe that's your preference.' 'It's the grand woman you are.'

'I'm part Irish, too, Dillon, from my father's mother's side. In spite of thirty years of war, it seems we're somehow inextricably mixed.'

'Eight million Irish in the UK, Sergeant Major, and the population of the Republic only three and a half million. It's a puzzle.'

'You and the Superintendent, that's a puzzle, too.'

'She's a hard woman, Hannah, a moralist. She finds it difficult to forgive my wicked past. You, on the other hand, understand perfectly. We've both been down the same road on different sides.'

'Yes. That's the problem, isn't it?' And she left.

Billy turned up an hour later with another mug of tea. 'Are you okay, Dillon?'

'I'm fine, but what about you?'

'The pills worked. It's Regan who's in trouble. You'd better give me some more of those pills.'

Dillon handed him the bottle. 'Take care of it, Billy. Let me know how he is.'

Perhaps half an hour later, Billy came back. 'He's lying down, but I think they're doing the job.'

'Good.'

Billy said, 'Dillon, on the White Diamond job. I've been thinking.'

'Go on.' Dillon turned to automatic pilot and lit a cigarette.

'So they've sliced through the grille entrance and we know those tunnels go right into the St Richard's Dock basement. Then all you need is a sledgehammer to break through those old brick walls.'

'So?'

'But the vaults. I still don't see how they get past the electronic security.'

'Neither do I. But there must be a sophisticated explanation. It's like computers, Billy. They're state of the art, too, but if you can get in, if you can access the files, then all is revealed.' Dillon smiled. 'Don't worry. Harry's on the case, and so is Roper. They'll come up with our answer. All I'm concerned with now is Kilbeg, and taking you back to the Dark Man in one piece, because if I don't Harry will want an explanation.'

'Hey, stuff that, Dillon. I'll do my thing.'

'Okay, time for truth, Billy. Since Blake isn't here, it's the women I'm leaving behind. I'll need you to go on shore with me. How do you feel about that?'

'Great.' Billy smiled. 'Never better. I'm with you, Dillon, all the way.' And he went out.

It was into early evening when the wheelhouse door opened and there was the smell of fried bacon sandwiches. 'And tea,' Hannah said.

'Now what's a nice Jewish girl doing, giving me bacon?' She ignored him. 'Where are we?'

'Islay to the east. Rain's a bit squally.'

'Can I take over?'

'No need. I'll go on automatic pilot.'

Dillon checked the course, then locked on. He attacked the sandwiches. 'Fabulous. Any word from London?'

'No.'

He finished the sandwiches and drank the tea. 'There you go. Thanks, love.'

'I really think you should go and lie down for a couple of hours, and let me take over.'

'Hell, what do women know about boats?'

The wheelhouse door swung open and Helen Black came in. 'Don't be a chauvinist pig, Mr Dillon. I don't know if the Superintendent knows boats, but I do. My husband and I race them as a hobby, so do shut up and go and rest. You're going to have a very hard night.'

Dillon raised his hands. 'I give in to this monstrous regiment of women. I'll leave you to it, ladies,' and he went below.

Hannah, too, went, and Helen Black took the wheel, enjoying it as she always had, increasing speed as heavy weather threatened from the east. She thought about her husband, Tony, serving in the hell of Bosnia with the Household Cavalry. It was a source of hurt that just because the Households were the Queen's personal bodyguard and rode round London in breastplates and helmets on horseback there were those who thought they were chocolate soldiers. In fact, they'd served in the Falklands, in the Gulf War, in Ireland, and in most of the rotten little wars in between.

Her trouble was that she was a woman and she was a soldier and she loved the army. Of course, Dillon had been a soldier too, to be fair. She rather liked him, although he'd been the worst of the enemy.

Against the early darkness she could see the outline of one of the Irish ferries, red and green navigation lights visible. She altered course a couple of points, then increased speed, racing the heavy weather that threatened from the east, and the waves grew rougher.

By now it really was dark, only a slight phosphorescent shining from the sea, and then the door opened and Dillon appeared.

'How are things?'

'A bit rough.'

He tapped the radio, got the weather channel, listened, and added, 'That's okay. The wind's going to drop soon. Why don't you go and get some coffee? I'll hang on, then I'll put her on automatic pilot and we can discuss what's going to happen. An hour, an hour and a half, we'll hit the Louth coast.'

'Fine.' She nodded and went out.

Half an hour later, Brendan Murphy, Dermot Kelly, Conolly and Tomelty arrived at Kilbeg and pulled up outside the Patriot public house. Murphy led the way in, running through torrential rain.

It was a typical Irish pub for either side of the border, with a bar, beer pumps, and a log fire in the hearth. There were only three old men at the fire and the landlord behind the bar, one Fergus Sullivan.

'Jesus, Brendan, and it's grand to see you.'

They shook hands. Brendan said, 'You're dying the death tonight.'

'Well, it's Monday night. What can I do for you?'

'Beds for me and Dermot. We've business elsewhere at the moment. We'll have a drink now and see you later.'

Sullivan poured four Irish whiskeys and a fifth for himself.

'Up the IRA.'

And confusion to the English,' Murphy said.

A short while later, inside the grounds of the ruins of Kilbeg Abbey, they entered an ancient hall and approached a dark old oaken door at one end banded with iron that looked as if it had been there for centuries. In fact it was a modern replica backed by steel plate of the finest quality. Murphy took a transceiver from his pocket and pressed the button. There was the murmur of a voice.

'Murphy,' he said. 'Open sesame.'

A moment later, one half of the door opened electronically. He and Kelly passed through into a short tunnel and went down a flight of concrete steps. There was electric light, another door opened, and in moments they were into a concrete corridor, painted white, very functional, and then into the main part of the bunker.

Two men stood waiting: Liam Brosnan, tall, heavily built, with hair to his shoulders, and Martin O'Neill, the direct opposite, small and red-haired. The only thing they had in common were the AK47assault rifles they carried.

'Well, at least you're on your toes,' Murphy said. 'Any problems?'

'Only one, Brendan,' Brosnan told him. 'Down at the entrance where the tunnel slopes to the steps, there's about a foot of water.'

'Show me.'

They led the way, and Murphy and Kelly followed. It was dark down there and, unlike the rest of the bunker, cold.

'Why is there no heat on, no light?' Murphy demanded.

'Well, that's the point, Brendan. The rest of the bunker's okay, but this part under the old farmhouse is on a separate system and the flooding must have screwed it up.'

'It's the rain,' O'Neill said. 'It's been terrible during the past two weeks.'

'I can tell it's the bloody rain, you eejit,' Murphy said. 'But if the electricity isn't working, that cocks up the entrance. There aren't any bars. They weren't necessary when it was electronic.'

'I've chained the handles and padlocked them,' Brosnan told him. 'I was waiting for you, Brendan. I know you would want someone reliable.'

'Exactly. Don't worry, there's that fella Patterson in Dundalk that builds the fancy houses. He knows which side his bread's buttered on.'

'I know who you mean.'

'You call him and tell him I'll see him at the Patriot for breakfast at eight-thirty tomorrow. Explain the flooding and tell him I expect miracles. He'll attend to it or he'll get a bullet in his left knee, and that's only for starters.'

They walked back through the storage areas. Mortars stacked neatly, the kind of missiles and heavy machine guns that could shoot down a helicopter, AK47and Armalites still greased and brand new from the factory. Cases of Semtex.

Murphy lit a cigarette and said to Kelly, 'Look at it, Dermot. Just waiting to be used, and those old women in London talk peace.'

'You're right, Brendan.'

'Our day will come. I'll just check the office.'

It was at the end of the tunnel, small, functional, with filing cabinets, a computer system and a desk. He said to Brosnan and O'Neill, 'Wait outside.'

Kelly closed the door. Murphy knelt behind the desk and lifted a section of carpet. Underneath, set into the concrete floor, was an old-fashioned safe with a simple keyhole. He felt under the desk, found a key on a magnetic block, and opened the flap.

Inside were packets of currency, sterling and dollars, all wrapped in transparent plastic bags. He handled a few.

'You think this is cash, Dermot? It's not, it's power. With money you can do anything, and there's almost three million here.'

'What about Fox, Brendan? You know what I mean? What you owe him?'

'Hey, stuff Fox. Look what happened at Al Shariz. It was a total fuck-up, and all because of Fox. It must have been. I mean, how were the Israelis on to us? I know it wasn't me.'

'So you aren't going to pay him what you owe him?'

Am I, hell.' Murphy locked the safe and put the carpet back.

'What if he makes trouble, Brendan?'

Murphy laughed. 'Make trouble for me, the Mafia? Dermot, this is Ireland, the one place in the world where they're powerless. We're the ones with power, Dermot, you and me, so let's get on with it and go and crack a bottle and have a decent supper at the Patriot.'

They all sat round the saloon in the Highlander, a large-scale map laid across the table.

'Kilbeg village,' Dillon said. 'The abbey is quarter of a mile to the east. The bunker is underneath.' He tapped the map. 'There, where the site of a ruined farmhouse is indicated, is, according to Sean here, the exit to the bunker.' He looked at Regan, who sat on one of the bench seats, wrists manacled. 'Isn't that so, Sean?'

'To hell with you,' Regan said.

'So how do you intend to play this?' Helen Black asked.

'Well, according to Regan, there are only two caretakers in the bunker. I intend to act very quickly, very economically. Blow the exit door, go in, dispose of them, and leave a hundred-pound block of Semtex to take the place out. They're storing Semtex there as well as arms. It'll be like Bonfire Night.'

'Which, if I'm not mistaken, celebrates Guy Fawkes failing to blow up Parliament,' Hannah Bernstein said.

'Well, I won't fail.'

'What about me?' Billy asked.

'You can watch my back,' Dillon said. 'Guard the exit door after I go in.'

'Oh, great. So I'm standing around like a ponce.'

'Don't be a silly boy, Billy. I'll need you watching out for me.'

'So how do you intend to do it?' Helen asked.

'Right, there's the pier that used to serve the old granite quarry. Yachtsmen call in here occasionally and usually anchor in the bay, according to Roper's information. What we'll do is this. We'll take the boat in to the pier, you in charge, Sergeant Major. Billy and I will wear diving suits. We'll offload diving equipment onto the pier, in case we have to come back the hard way. You will take Highlander a hundred yards out into the bay, and anchor.'

'Fine,' Helen said.

'Billy and I will have transceivers, and so will you, so we'll be in touch. The farmhouse is what, a quarter of a mile away? This will be the ultimate in-and-out job. With luck, it'll be so clean that I'll call and bring you into the pier to pick us up.' He smiled and turned to Billy. 'No need to get your feet wet.'

'Well, that's nice. It's bleeding cold out there.'

Dillon turned to Sean Regan, sitting there, sullen, on the bench, manacled hands on his knees.

'Now we come to your part, son. Is there anything you haven't told me?'

'I've told you everything I know.'

'I hope so, for your sake, because if you haven't you're dead in the water. And that's not just a figure of speech.' He turned to the others. 'Right, people, that's the way it is, so let's get it done.'

It was nine o'clock and pitch dark when they drifted in, the engines a muted throbbing. Dillon left it to Helen Black. She steered one-handed, holding a pair of Nightstalkers to her eyes, and hardly touched the pier. In a second, Dillon was over with a line and ran it round a bollard.

'Right, Billy, pass the gear up.'

Billy wrestled with air bottles and other things and Dillon stacked them on the pier.

'All right, son, let's have you.'

Billy joined him. 'First time in Ireland, and what a bloody place.'

'The hob of hell, Billy.' Dillon called to Helen Black. 'On your way.'

The Highlander moved out and Dillon checked his transceiver. 'Hey, you still love me, Superintendent?'

'Don't be silly,' she replied, and then added. 'For God's sake, Dillon. .'

'I know, take care. Well, here we go to save the British way of life. An Irish gunman and a well-known London gangster. Why is it that people like us have to do it?'

He switched off, checked his Uzi, and slung it across his chest. Billy did the same. Dillon checked his Walther, and, again, Billy did the same. Having heard Dillon talking on the transceiver, he said, 'Do you know the answer? Why is it people like us have to do it?'

'Billy, a great English writer once said — it's ironic that when it comes down to it — that it's men of a rough persuasion who have to do all the hard things that the general population are incapable of doing, and then the general population disowns them. It's called being a soldier.'

'But I'm not a bleeding soldier.'

'You're a gangster, Billy. It's the same thing, so shut up and follow me.'

On board the Highlander, Hannah obeyed Helen Black's orders and dropped the anchor. Below, Sean Regan sat on the bench, manacled, and thought about things. He was a practical man, and had survived for many years in the Irish struggle by being so.

However, try as he could, Dillon's reputation wouldn't go away and it was that of the ultimate hard man. The Brits used him on situations they didn't want to go to court. If he was on your case, you were dead.

With the best will in the world, Regan couldn't imagine a fate other than being tossed over the side into the Irish Sea, a convenient corpse, and there was no way he could risk that. A desperate plan came to him, and before he could hesitate, he acted. He knocked a tray bearing a teapot and cups off the table and fell on his knees.

A moment later, Hannah appeared. 'What is it?'

'My gut's killing me. I think it must be those seasickness pills.'

She crouched and checked him out. 'That bad?'

'I need the necessary. For God's sake, I might mess myself.'

She pulled him up and took him out to the lavatory. He held out his hands. 'Come on, you can't move in there. I couldn't get my trousers down with these things on.'

She hesitated, then took out her key, uncuffed him, and pushed him inside. She stood against the wall and waited.

Regan sat down, breathed deeply, then stood up, shoved the door open hard, catching Hannah and knocking her against the wall. He went up the companionway fast, ran out on deck, past Helen Black as she emerged from the wheelhouse, and vaulted over the rail. The cold March Irish Sea took his breath away, but he struck out for the shore with all his strength and vanished into the dark.

Hannah appeared on deck. 'Goddammit, he conned me. I was such a fool.'

'Happens to us all.' Helen Black tried her transceiver. 'Dillon, are you there?'

But in the valley area up from the cliffs the signal was poor, and there was no reply.

Sean Regan hit the shore, colder than he'd ever been in his life, and immediately started to run, making his way up the cliff path and turning for Kilbeg. He burst into the Patriot fifteen minutes later. There were three drinkers at the bar, Conolly and Tomelty two of them.

He fell across the bar in front of Sullivan, and Tomelty raised his head by his hair. Regan said, 'Thank God you're here. We've got trouble.'

'Well, tell the man here.'

Regan turned and saw Murphy get up from the bench before the fire.

'Why, Sean, I thought the Brits had you in Wandsworth. How in the hell did you get here?'

Suddenly, Regan realized he was in deep trouble here, too, and tried to recover. 'Never mind that, Brendan. Dillon's here, Sean Dillon. He's here to destroy the bunker.'

'Really?' Murphy said. 'But how would he know? Have you been shooting your gob off?'

'Please, Brendan. They took me out of Wandsworth. Beat the shire out of me.'

'Well, I must say you don't look too bad,' Tomelty said.

'We came over on a boat. Anchored off the old pier. I managed to get away. There are a couple of women on board, one Special Branch, that Bernstein bitch, the other is military police.'

And Dillon?'

'He's gone to take out the bunker with another guy. He's going in by way of the exit at the farmhouse.'

Murphy shook his head. 'And how would he know about all that?'

'Jesus, Brendan.'

'No, you, Sean.'

At that moment, there was a rumble in the distance. Kelly ran out of the pub entrance, then came back in. 'It's the abbey. Some sort of explosion. Shall we get up there?'

Murphy cursed. 'No. It's a waste of bloody time now.' Murphy pushed Regan to the door. 'Let's get out of here, down to the pier.'

A few moments earlier, as Dillon and Billy had reached the exit door in the old farmhouse, Helen Black managed to get through.

'Dillon, for God's sake.'

'What?'

'We've got a crisis. Regan escaped. Jumped in the bay and swam for it.'

'Well, that's damn unfortunate.'

'Will you abort?'

'Like hell. We're at the exit now. We'll go in hard and get out quick.' He switched off

Helen said to Hannah, 'He's still going in. I'll take the inflatable to the pier. Time could be crucial here.'

'Maybe I should go,' Hannah said.

'Not this time. Now I've got to get moving.'

At the exit door, Dillon stopped, took a magnetized block from his bag, and slammed it over the lock. 'Stay here and wait for me, Billy.'

He stepped back, the lock blew, and the doors folded inwards. Dillon ran in, took a smoke grenade from the bag, and rolled it down the corridor. The water considerably reduced its efficiency, but he ran on, pulling out a stun grenade, but again, swallowed by the floor, it wasn't very effective.

Behind him, Billy muttered, 'What the hell,' raised his Uzi, and went after Dillon.

Brosnan and O'Neill were having a late supper in the office when they heard the noise, grabbed their Uzis, and ran out. A certain amount of smoke remained from the grenade and they crouched from the half-shock of the stun grenade. A moment later, Dillon ran out of the fog headlong, and Brosnan rose to meet him, but Dillon was faster, his Uzi battering Brosnan back against the wall.

Dillon stumbled to one knee and O'Neill stood up in the murk. 'I've got you now, you bastard.'

He raised his AK and Billy came in on the run, firing his Uzi, and shot him to pieces. Billy dropped on his knees, breathing deeply, and Dillon stood up.

'Don't fall down on me now, Billy. This is the good bit.'

He kicked open the office door, produced five blocks of Semtex from the jump bag, took timers from the bag, and inserted them. He left one on the office floor and pushed Billy.

'Out you go. Three minutes.' He dropped the blocks one by one, as they ran through the bunker, splashed through the water, and made it out of the exit. As they went down the slope to the cliffs, the explosion rumbled underground.

Murphy was into the car, with Regan, Kelly, Conolly and Tomelty, and roaring out of the village within seconds of the explosion. When they reached the top of the road, he said to Tomelty, who was driving, 'Switch off the engine.'

They coasted down the hill silently and braked to a halt. Helen Black, sitting in the inflatable, heard nothing.

Murphy said, 'Not a sound. You go along the strip of beach, Tomelty. You and I will take the pier, Conolly, and be very, very quiet.' He turned to Regan. And you be especially quiet.'

They moved out. Helen Black sat there in the inflatable. There was a footfall on the beach. She turned and took out her Walther, and a flashlight was switched on from the pier.

'Well, I know you're not Bernstein, I'd recognize her, so I suppose you must be the Sergeant Major.' Murphy frowned. 'You wouldn't be Black, would you? The one from Derry?'

'My God, you've got a brain.'

'Down you go, Tomelty,' Murphy said. 'Get her gun.' He turned to Kelly. 'You and Conolly take her out to the boat. If the Bernstein bitch argues, tell her you'll shoot this one.' He turned to Tomelty. 'You and I stay here for Dillon.'

The inflatable moved away. Tomelty said, 'What about Regan?'

Murphy said, 'Silly me. I was forgetting.' He turned to Regan and took a Browning from his pocket. 'You sold us out, you shire. You're lucky I don't have time to make it longer.'

The silenced Browning coughed and Regan went off the pier into the water.

On the Highlander, Hannah looked through the Nightstalker as the inflatable coasted in. 'Are you all right?' she called.

Kelly said, 'We've got your Sergeant Major here and I've got a gun to her head. If you're not sensible, I'll kill her stone dead.'

Helen Black called, 'Don't listen, Hannah, do what you have to do. You heard the explosion. We've achieved our object. To hell with these people.'

Conolly hit her across the side of her head with his pistol. She cried out. Kelly said, 'I mean it.'

'All right.' Hannah stood back, her Walther in her left hand.

A moment later, Kelly boarded, followed by Helen Black and Conolly, who took the Walther from Hannah's grasp. 'There's a good girl.'

Black was wearing paratroop boots with her jumpsuit.

Stuffed into the right one was the Colt.25 hollow point. At that moment, she could have pulled it out in the darkness of the deck and shot both men. But what would that mean for Dillon and Billy? She decided to wait.

Dillon tried to get her on the transceiver and got no reply. On the Highlander, Kelly started the engines and moved in to the pier, and Conolly tied up. Dillon and Billy came down the hill on the run, and in the slight light of a quarter moon, the rain having stopped, saw the boat move in.

'They've come for us,' Billy said, gasping for breath. 'So it would appear.'

They hit the end of the pier, looked down at the deck with the light on, and saw Kelly push Hannah and Helen out, he and Conolly both holding guns to the women's backs.

Murphy came out of the shadows with Tomelty. 'They mean it, you bastard. You want them dead?'

'Certainly not,' Dillon said. 'Do as he says, Billy, guns on the floor.'

Billy complied, and Murphy lit a cigarette. 'Damn you, Dillon, I always admired you, but this time you've cost me money.'

'Not you, Brendan, Jack Fox.'

Murphy laughed incredulously. 'My God, is that what this is about, a personal feud?'

'You shouldn't have joined, Brendan.'

'Neither should you, Dillon. Now you and your friend get on board so we can move to where the water's deeper, because that's where you're going.'

Dillon and Billy went down the steps to the deck and joined Helen Black and Hannah; Murphy followed with Tomelty. Kelly was at the wheel, Conolly joined the others.

'You know what?' Murphy said. 'It's a waste of good women, but I'm going to kill the lot of you.'

He was looking at Hannah when he said that. Helen Black, close to the wheelhouse, pulled the Colt out of her boot and shot Kelly in the back of the head. The boat swerved, and everyone fell over. As Conolly tried to get up, she pushed herself upright, shot him dead, then ducked and dived over the rail as Murphy tried to shoot her.

At the same moment, Dillon grabbed Billy by the arm. 'Over!' he cried, and pushed him over the rail after Helen Black. As he tried to follow, Tomelty, still on the deck, grabbed his ankles, and Dillon went down.

'You bastard.' Murphy kicked him in the side. 'You're finally dead meat, Dillon, and you, bitch. Those two in the water aren't going anywhere. Fifteen minutes at this season of the year and it's hypothermia time. You two will get it quick, at least.'

Billy, close to Helen on the port side, said, 'I'm going to try for that gun in the wheelhouse.'

He didn't wait for a reply, simply jackknifed and went under the Highlander from port to starboard, scraping his back under the keel, surfaced, and reached up for the rail. As he pulled himself on board and slithered for the wheelhouse, he heard the exchange between Dillon and Murphy, unaware that, looking beyond Murphy and Tomelty, Dillon had seen him arrive.

'Come on, Brendan, why all the dialogue? In Derry in the old days, we didn't talk about it, we did it.'

On his knees in the wheelhouse, Billy dropped the flap and got his hand to the Walther, which Dillon had left cocked. He turned and shot Tomelty twice in the back, shattering his spine.

Murphy started to turn, shocked as Tomelty went down; Hannah kicked sideways at his left leg and he stumbled, which was Dillon's moment. He grabbed at the gun hand and came breast-to-breast.

'Now then, you dog.'

He pushed hard, Murphy staggered back, and they went over the stern rail.

And the sea was Dillon's, the master diver's element, not Murphy's. They went down perhaps ten feet. Dillon got an arm around Murphy's throat and then the anchor on its chain scraped his back. He grabbed it with his right hand and held on fast. Murphy kicked and struggled and Dillon held his breath until he was bursting, and then Murphy stopped struggling. Dillon let him go and surfaced.

He managed the ladder and hung there and Hannah looked over. 'All right, Dillon? What happened to Murphy?'

He hauled himself up. 'What do you think happened? As the Sicilians have it, Brendan Murphy is asleep with the fishes.'

He sat on the deck, his back to the wheelhouse. Billy was there, and Helen Black.

'You okay, Sergeant Major?'

'I'm fine, Mr Dillon.'

'And you, Billy?'

'What the fuck did you get me into, Dillon?'

'Billy, you saved the pass, to use an old-fashioned phrase. You were fantastic. The SAS couldn't have done better. On top of that, you've given Superintendent Bernstein a severe problem. Try not to get arrested, because she'll feel terribly guilty if she has to arrest you.'

Billy grinned and turned to Hannah. 'What do I have to do? Take up good works?'

'Just don't give me a problem, Billy.'

'Trouble is, I've been giving people a problem all my life.'

Dillon said, 'Let's get the bodies over the side. And do me a favour, Sergeant Major — take us out. I'll do a quick change and I'll be up to relieve you.'

'Leave it to me.'

'Come on, you two,' he said to Hannah and Billy. 'Let's get into dry clothes,' and he led the way below.

An hour later, Charles Ferguson was in his Cavendish Square flat, enjoying a nightcap, when his phone rang. Dillon was at the wheel alone, the others below. Pushing out into the Irish Sea, he had switched to automatic pilot and lit a cigarette as he spoke.

'Is it yourself, Brigadier?'

'Dillon! Where are you?'

'On our way back to Oban.' Dillon was using his Codex Four mobile. 'We can talk.'

'What's happened?'

'Well, the Kilbeg bunker is no more, and the Sergeant Major's proved a treasure. Killed two of Murphy's gang. Billy saved our bacon by killing another at the right time.'

'Good God! Is everyone all right?'

'Oh, right as rain, Brigadier. We're a tough lot.' 'Well, thank God for that. And Murphy?'

'Oh, I saw to him myself.'

'Well, you would, wouldn't you? So what now?'

'I'd say, six hours to Oban. The weather's not too good. If you could alert Lacey and Parry for a flight back to London around breakfast time?'

'Consider it done.'

'How's Blake?'

A post-operational infection. Daz and Martha have it in hand.'

'That's good. Fox is really going to be mortified over this lot.'

'I like that, Dillon, a good choice of words. I'll see you tomorrow.'

Dillon sat there at the wheel, and then the door opened, there was a bacon smell, and Billy appeared, a plate of sandwiches in one hand and a mug of tea.

'There you go, Sean.'

Billy turned to leave, and Dillon said, 'Billy, you were great. Harry will be proud of you.'

'Yes, but he won't know, will he? What I mean is, nobody knows unless they've done it, been there, bought the teeshirt, isn't that what they say? Jesus, Dillon, this wasn't some punch-up in an East End pub. I killed two men tonight.'

'They shouldn't have joined, Billy, if they didn't want the risk. Remember that.'

'Okay, I suppose so. So — now it's the Jagos and Fox?' 'Yes. I suppose it is.' Dillon finished the last sandwich. 'Go on, Billy. Get some sleep. You've earned it.'

Billy left, and Dillon turned from automatic pilot to manual and took the Highlander onwards over an increasingly turbulent sea.