“Sean, you’re crazy. You’ll never get away with it. It’s as if you’ve got a death wish.”
“I’ll ring Lacey and arrange a drop. The beach at Drumore will do nicely, but you check the weather and confirm it with him. Speak to the Quartermaster for me and arrange some weaponry.”
“I’ll get on it. But you can’t do this on your own, not even the great Sean Dillon.”
“Oh, I won’t.” Dillon went out, got in the Mini and phoned Farley Field. “It’s Dillon. I need Squadron Leader Lacey.”
He droned on through traffic one-handed and Lacey came on. “Sean?”
“Nothing has ever been more important, so don’t argue. Ferguson’s been shot, he’s in a hospital operating room at the moment, and he’s charged me with full authority. I’ll be with you in perhaps an hour. You’re going to fly in over Drumore in County Louth and do a beach drop.”
“I’m not sure about the weather, Sean.”
“We’ve done it before in worse. This one is important. We take it right to the edge.”
“As you say, Sean.”
He switched off, and Dillon carried on. One more place to call.
When he entered the Dark Man, Harry Salter, Billy, Joe Baxter and Sam Hall were in the end booth having a drink, except for Billy and his usual orange juice.
Harry said, “So here you are. You’re hardly keeping us up-to-date.”
“Just shut up and listen,” Dillon said.
When he was finished, Harry said, “These Russians, what bastards.”
“Never mind that,” Billy interrupted. “What’s the real word on Hannah?”
“Bellamy says he’s sure she’ll make it, but she’ll never be the same again.”
“And Ferguson?” Harry demanded.
“I told you. He took a slug from an AK. He won’t die from it, but at his age…” Dillon shrugged.
“And Selim out of it.” Billy shook his head. “That’s a waste. He could have said a lot.”
“He came round in the end. Coughed up plenty.”
There was a silence. Harry turned to Dora. “A little Bushmills, here, love. I think we’re going to need it.” He turned back to Dillon. “So Belov’s at this Drumore Place, and Ashimov and the girl have joined them, plus the two IRA gangsters?”
“That’s it.”
“And you can’t touch them because they’re in the Irish Republic.”
“Yes, Harry.”
“And they’ve got a plane to Moscow booked out in the morning? I’d say you’re fucked, Dillon.”
And Billy, his face as always colder than ice, said, “No, he isn’t. You’re going in, aren’t you? Who else will be there?”
“Discount Regan and Fahy. I’d say there’s Kelly and Tod. Probably Danny McGuire and Patrick O’Neill. There could be a few more. Then again, times have changed. They could even have cleared off for a while. Kelly has a boat, the Kathleen, which looks like rubbish but is hot stuff. He might think a cruise was indicated.”
“But the Russians for sure?”
“Belov, Ashimov and the woman. That’s all I know for certain.”
Billy said, “So you’re going on by air?”
“A beach landing, Billy.”
“You’re mad, Dillon,” Harry said.
“Harry, I just don’t like what they’ve done. Ashimov’s a butcher, and Belov thinks he rules the world. What they’ve done to Ferguson and Hannah and that poor silly sod Selim has to be paid for.”
There was silence, and Dora brought the drinks. Dillon took his straight down. “Harry, I’m tired. I’ve been at war with the world for years and it’s a darker world than when I started. I’ll be honest, though. I came for help from the boy wonder here and I was wrong. He’s done enough. In Hazar last year, he got a bullet in the neck, eighteen stitches in his face and his pelvis fractured. I was stupid to think he should be jumping out of a Citation at six hundred feet over Drumore Bay. As for me, though, I don’t have a choice. I can’t face those bastards walking away from this. It’s not an option.” Dillon got up.
Billy said, “How many times have we done something like this, Sean?”
“I don’t know. It blurs. Three?”
“Well, then, this will make it four.” He got up. “Let’s get moving.”
“Billy,” his uncle said.
“Oh, shut up. Let’s go, Sean.”
In the Great Hall at Drumore Place, Ashimov, Greta and Belov sat beside the log fire burning brightly on the hearth. Belov said, “So Selim is out of the equation, although I wonder just how much he said to Ferguson before he met his end.”
“That concerns me, too.”
“Having said that, except for the wounding of Ferguson, the rest of the enterprise was a failure. When I put it together with what happened in Iraq, it’s hardly been a success, Yuri. And Fahy and Regan! This Dillon has been a thorn in our side since the start. We underestimated him badly.” He turned to Greta. “Wouldn’t you agree, Major?”
She glanced at Ashimov, but couldn’t avoid Belov’s penetrating stare. “I went into his past thoroughly. There was no doubt he had a remarkable record.”
“And you made your opinion known?”
Again, she glanced at Ashimov. “Yes, I did, particularly to Kelly and his people.” As if trying to make up for the damage she was causing, she added, “Kelly and Murphy should have been well aware of what they were taking on. They were close associates of Dillon once. It’s not like they didn’t see him firsthand.”
At that moment, Hamilton, an old man from the village who acted as a kind of butler, came in.
“Excuse me, sir, Dermot Kelly and Tod Murphy are here.”
“Are they, now? Show them in.”
They sat there waiting, and the two of them entered.
“Back from the wars, I see,” Belov said.
Kelly, roused by drink, was aggressive. “We did a grand job for you. We killed Selim and clipped Ferguson.”
“And left one of your own men dead and the other one giving every scrap of information Ferguson wanted in complete detail. Not your best day’s work, Kelly.”
Kelly was speechless with fury. It was Tod who said smoothly, “These things happen. The fact is we did get Selim, as Dermot says, and we wounded Ferguson. We did our job. Do you need anything else?”
“Yes, we’re leaving in the morning for Moscow. I want you and what’s left of your men to stand on watch tonight. As to your future – we’ll discuss it another time.”
Kelly started. “Now, look here.”
Tod caught his arm. “That’s grand, sir, thank you for being so understanding.”
He took Kelly with him out to the hall. “Shut up, Dermot. Our day will come, isn’t that what we said in the Provos in the old days?”
“I could kill the bastard.”
“Not now. We go down to the Royal George, have a drink with McGuire and O’Neill and then we’ll come back and do what Belov wants. It’s to our advantage, Dermot, and that’s all that matters.”
In the hall, Belov said, “So, Moscow tomorrow.”
“And then what?” Ashimov asked.
“We see if there are any repercussions and we consider our options.” He looked hard at them both. “Mine and yours.”
At Farley Field, Lacey was waiting as they drove up. The first thing he said was, “We’re using the Lear-jet, Sean, no RAF rondels. We’re flying into a friendly country, remember? Don’t want to give the wrong impression.”
“Fine. What about weather?”
“We’ll be all right. There’s intermittent sea fog in the area, but it’ll be low tide, so there’s plenty of beach.”
“Good enough.”
“What about the return?” Lacey asked.
“I’m glad you think there’ll be one. Since we don’t want any trouble with the Republic, you land at Belfast Airport. Park in the usual high-security patch and make arrangements to receive us.”
“When?”
“I don’t know. It could be a hard one. On the other hand, the border is open these days. Billy and I should have no difficulty in getting to Belfast one way or another.”