His one regret was that he hadn’t been born thirty years earlier. Then he could have participated in the greatest world conflict of all times. As a child, he had read everything that he could get his hands on regarding World War II. He had an uncle who had served with Montgomery in Africa, who thrilled him with tale after wondrous tale about the hunt for Rommel, the elusive Nazi Desert Fox. His own father had served in the South Pacific, and though he was taken prisoner by the Japanese in the conflict’s opening days, could tell some spine-tingling war stories of his own when in the mood.
Today the army had little to do but participate in one boring exercise after another. The majority of these were so ill-conceived that they didn’t have the least bit to do with real combat scenarios. They were carried out just for the benefit of the generals, and to give the taxpayer the illusion that he was getting his money’s worth.
Colin was of the strong opinion that soldiers need actual combat if they were going to keep their edge sharp.
Otherwise, they were little more than unarmed policemen waiting for a crime that could very well never even happen.
Their current duty was a prime example of just such a waste. For the next month and a half they would be stationed at the castle, where their primary responsibility would be to act as a security detail. Yet surely this could just as easily be done by a group of “rent-acops.”
Other than a few overvalued jewels and several dusty war museums, there wasn’t much inside the castle to warrant a regiment of Scotland’s best. But unfortunately every unit in the country was required to make the obligatory yearly stop in Edinburgh, where tourists would gawk at them and ask their ridiculous questions.
Knowing full well that there was nothing he could do to change the situation, Colin dropped the coded dispatch into his shredder. Then, with crisp strides, he returned to the mess hall to finish his dinner.
Sean Lafferty slept soundly beside the fireplace, wrapped inside the folds of the sleeping bag that he had brought along from Dublin. It proved to be his roommate who awakened him. The flat was dark, cold, and unfamiliar, yet Patrick made him feel right at home with a cup of hot tea. By the time Sean finished his toilet, the sky was just brightening with the first colors of dawn.
They went off to work on foot. The miserable weather of the previous day had passed. The sky was a clear blue, the air crisp and cool, as they proceeded down High Street and began the long climb up to the castle.
Patrick had originally gotten the construction job three weeks after arriving in Edinburgh. It fit his needs perfectly, for the company had just signed a contract to initiate a series of renovations on the castle grounds.
He started as a simple laborer and soon enough demonstrated his ability to operate a variety of heavy machinery.
He was able to get Sean a job with this same outfit when he learned that they were looking for a man experienced with explosives. Though they would have preferred a local, Sean’s resume was the only one to fit their needs.
Ever thankful for his time spent as an explosives handler during the construction of a new Guinness brewery, Sean anxiously anticipated the days work to come. The castle loomed larger than it had appeared from below as they entered it by way of the main guardhouse. Two uniformed, rifle toting soldiers alertly challenged them here. Patrick calmly pulled out his work permit and Sean did likewise. A quick call to the construction foreman verified their identities, and the soldiers politely stepped aside and allowed them to enter.
They began their way up a sloping brick roadway and crossed beneath an arched structure that Patrick identified as being the Portcullis Gate, built in 1577. They briefly halted to catch their breaths beside the Argyle Battery, which was added on in 1750 and contained a display of muzzle-loading cannon of this same period.
“Well, what do you think Sean?” quizzed Patrick as he scanned one portion of the awakening city of Edin burgh visible four hundred feet below.
His associate was busy studying the layout of the ramparts behind the battery as he responded.
“I’ll tell you what I think, my friend. Unless those sentries have some bullets in their pockets, this job is going to be easier than I ever dreamed. Those H&K assault rifles that they were carrying didn’t even have any clips in them.”
Still engrossed in the spectacular view of the city, Patrick shook his head.
“Aw Sean, you always were the practical one.”
“Thank goodness someone around here is,” added Sean as he walked over to join his associate. He followed Patrick’s line of sight and patted his coworker on the back.
“It truly is a magnificent sight, Patrick.
This city just reeks of history. Now, what do you say to us going and making some of our own?”
Patrick answered his friend’s wink with a nod, and turned to lead them further up into the castle’s interior.
They passed by a gift shop and an infirmary that had a fairly modern artillery piece set up beside it.
“That cannon still looks operational,” observed Sean.
“You’ll hear for yourself at one p.m. when it’s fired.
They say folks all over the city set their watches by it.”
“No one ever said that the Scots weren’t practical people,” offered Sean.
Their route now curved upward, and they passed through a compound dominated by a fairly modern barracks. A group of enlisted men stiffly stood at attention outside this structure, in the process of being inspected by a tall, muscular officer in a red beret.
Yet another ramp took them past a small chapel that Patrick mentioned was one of the oldest surviving parts of the fortress, built in the eleventh century. It was beside this simple building that a series of construction barriers were set up. A corrugated steel trailer was placed beside the wall here, with various heavy equipment parked nearby.
“This is the place,” said Patrick who led the way inside.
The interior of the trailer smelled of cigar smoke and fresh coffee. It was filled with several vacant drafting tables and a single cluttered desk. Seated here was a portly individual sporting a full red beard, with thick eyebrows to match. He didn’t bother to stand as he spoke out with a deep, booming bass voice.
“Good morning, Patrick. And this must be your cousin, Mr. Lafferty. Welcome to Edinburgh, lad. I’m the foreman here, Angus Ross.”
Sean accepted a viselike handshake and watched as his new boss lit up a half-smoked cigar.
“I understand from both your resume and your cousin that you’re pretty handy with explosives, Mr.
Lafferty. That may indeed be the case, but around here it’s caution that rules the day. You may have noticed that not only are we working inside a military base, but a national monument as well. Thus we certainly don’t want to cause any unnecessary damage or have any needless accidents. So to ensure this, the charges that you’ll be handling will be just powerful enough to get the job done. Do I make myself clear, lad?”
“Why of course you do, sir. And please call me Sean.
When we were excavating the extension of the Guinness brewery in downtown Dublin, we had to take similar precautions. And I’m proud to say that while I was in charge there wasn’t a single injury or report of external damage.”
“That’s just what I wanted to hear, lad. If you can work as well as your cousin here, you won’t be hearing any complaints from me. Patrick, why don’t you show Sean the location of the new cistern and the portion of the old system that we’ll be wanting to reroute.”
As Patrick led them outside, Sean slyly grinned.
“So we’re cousins, are we? Funny, but I never saw any family resemblance between us.”