Day of Reckoning

'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.