"I'm Scully, Pat Scully. I forgot."
Minogue nodded vigorously. This was like a carnival. He tried to identify the constellation of lights ahead of him. Swords? It occurred to him that he wasn't exactly sure what would be happening when they landed. Would they pick up Allen along the road or would they wait until the border? They had time, just about though. The porter at the Pearse Street Gate in Trinity said that Allen had taken his car about an hour ago. He couldn't have made it by then. He'd know better than to try an unapproved road especially after dark. Roving patrols of the British Army and SAS were on the move after dark.
"What's the story up ahead?" Minogue shouted into Scully's ear.
"We're all set up," Scully replied.
What did that mean? Minogue returned to thinking out the possible outcomes. Did Allen know? Allen would not hand over his car like that. It hadn't been stolen so Allen must have voluntarily given it over. Could it all be a coincidence though? What was there in it for Allen?
The pilot reached over and tipped Scully on the knee, then he pointed to a headset. Scully put it on. Minogue lip read the pilot saying 'go ahead.' Scully searched for a volume control but giving up, cupped hands over his ears. As he listened, he nodded several times. Then he said O.K. He looked over at the pilot who nodded once. Minogue noticed the pilot glancing quickly at him and then back to Scully.
"The car has been spotted. This side of Castlebellingham. Plenty of time," Scully shouted.
Minogue looked out over a town, marooned in light. A slash in the sky to the west was flooding a scarlet ribbon in the grey.
"Drogheda," the pilot said, pointing.
"There's someone else in the car."
"What?" said Minogue, leaning.
"There's someone else in the car. A woman," Scully shouted.
"What's the plan?" Minogue asked.
"We'll stick to the original," Scully announced and turned to look at the town passing below. Minogue looked out too. He followed car lights on the outskirts of town. They looked like a video game. A woman. Minogue's heart stopped, then a cold wash fell down through his chest. No, it couldn't be.
Minogue nudged Scully.
"Where will they be picked up?" he shouted. Scully paused before answering.
"At the border."
Minogue felt an alarm, like waking in the night to a strange sound. He stared at the side of Scully's face. Scully turned again.
"The situation on the ground," Scully shouted. "It may change. We have to be ready," he added, and returned to looking out over the Belfast road. Any minute now, they'd be overtaking the car.
The cold was biting into Minogue's shoes and under his chin. He no longer noticed the noise. He began to count but his heart was racing. He thought of Ravel and the tea at home in the oven waiting for him. Allen's face kept interrupting his images. Then he saw Agnes McGuire's face clearly in the darkness below.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Agnes sat up on the seat as they slowed, entering Dundalk.
"They called it El Paso, the locals," she murmured.
"I shouldn't wonder," Allen replied.
"Doesn't look bad at night, does it?" Agnes said.
Allen guessed it was eight miles from the border, give or take.
"Tell me, Agnes, do you get nervous crossing the border? Going North, I mean."
"I'm going home, so I am. What's to be nervous about?" Touche, thought Allen. Stop treating her like she's wounded. As they pulled away from a traffic light, Allen noticed a car parked in a sidestreet. It was half up on the kerb. A double yellow line ran under the car. Briefly he noted the outline of two figures in it. He caught a momentary glint of an antenna as he accelerated through the junction.
"I suppose 'irritated' is the word. I don't like men with guns and costumes or uniforms looking at me. It's all so silly. Sometimes you forget it's serious. I find myself laughing, then crying," Agnes said.
Part of Allen's mind discounted what he had seen. Dundalk was a border town so you'd expect police.
"It's like a game, isn't it?" Agnes murmured.
That had to be routine here. He looked in the mirror but no car emerged from the street.
"Yes. I suppose," Allen replied.
That was the way it had been those years ago, a game. At least that was how he looked at it. In an instant he had felt the full weight of an adult world when the girl's parents opened the door to the garage. He had run, but he knew that he could run nowhere but home. Despite admitting it to the policeman who sat in the kitchen chair where his father used to sit, his mother kept saying it was impossible, that she knew her own son. She didn't listen at all.
Allen felt the beginnings of a headache grasping the back of his neck. Of course he was nervous, he couldn't deny that. Which was he more nervous about, asking her, or facing these soldiers and RUC at the border?
"Are you O. K?" Agnes was asking.
"Oh. Yes. Just tired, that's all," he replied.
Minogue followed Scully over to an unmarked car. Behind him the blades were slowing and the monster was bathed in light. His legs felt like pieces of wood. The blower was on in the car. The driver reminded Minogue of Connors. A creased coat, the shirt half out of his pants probably.
"I'm Scully. Sergeant Minogue here is along for the ride. He's investigating a link here."
"Geraghty, sir. I'm to take yous to the customs post."
So they were going to wait, Minogue thought. That was odd.
"Away, so, Geraghty. What kind of time do we have?" Scully asked.
"The suspects are in Dundalk, sir. They're probably ten minutes back the road."
"Timing, hah?" Scully said, rubbing his hands.
"Were they waiting for us before they make the pick up?" Minogue tried.
Scully didn't answer. Minogue felt his tension edge into anger.
"Who's the other suspect?" he said.
"A woman, sir," Geraghty answered, suddenly aware of a brittle atmosphere.
"Reddish hair, young?"
"We don't know, sir," Geraghty said cautiously.
Traffic was light as they passed the sign for the border. Minogue remembered Kilmartin's injunction to him about meddling. Scully turned to him and said:
"Not to worry, Sergeant, everything will go well."
The mention of his rank skittered away in Minogue's mind. A warning? The floodlights at the customs post ahead filled up the windscreen. A lorry was parked off to the side, facing south. Minogue could see figures in the shed through the screens. They pulled up on the gravel behind the shed. Minogue noticed two cars and a Land Rover in the shadows. It'd be the same up the road, he guessed, on the Northern side. RUC armed and some soldiers off to the side of the road; invisible from within the arena of floodlights. Minogue stepped out of the car. He felt ropey.
Scully walked over to the car and began talking in the window. Minogue heard a man laugh. The car creaked on its suspension. The lorry which had been parked drove off. No other vehicles could be heard. Minogue saw a movement in the shadows behind the customs shed, then another. He recognised the outlines of soldiers carrying automatic rifles.
Headlights appeared, coming from the south. It was a van. It slowed and a hand waved toward the customs shed. Probably a local who made the crossing every day. It accelerated slowly away to the North. Minogue stood at the side of the road. He saw a group of lights on the northern side which filtered dimly through the yellow-white glare of the customs post. He heard a car door open behind him. A big man climbed out awkwardly. In the weak light which shone from the car's interior, Minogue saw the man heft a strap on his shoulder inside his coat. He was carrying a submachine gun, Minogue realised. More cowboys.