Exceptional Merit (27 page)

Flynn looked at Keegan and without returning his salutation, excused himself from the table and went to the rest room.  Keegan figured this was most likely a ploy by the man to draw him into a confrontation of some sort and he wasn't going to fall into the man's trap.  Keegan was relieved enough that the man was still here.  At least he must be willing to hear what Keegan had to say.  In Flynn's absence, Keegan got the attention of the waitress and ordered a Guinness.  She was the same waitress he met the other day when he was looking for Nora.  Her eyes didn’t have the same gleam that they did when he first encountered her.

He kept a watchful eye on Nora as she would look in his direction every few minutes and immediately look away.  It was peculiar behavior on her part.  He was unsure what to make of it.  She was probably just been curious as to why it was so important for Keegan to find the man.  She probably thinks I’m here to arrest him.  Nora wasn’t the only one interested in the meeting.  Dan O’Brien’s eyes have been locked on him since he walked in.  Keegan started to grow impatient waiting for the Flynn to return. 
He’s trying to piss me off.  He’s making me wait on purpose
.  He reminded himself to keep his composure when talking with the man.

Sharon Winters entered McBride's only moments behind Keegan.  She watched him walk over to the man she and Louie had been surveilling before they left the bar.  As soon as Keegan sat down, it seemed to Sharon, the other man got up and walked away, almost as if he was annoyed at him.  While Keegan sat alone at the table, she observed him looking around.  She thought it would be best if she bought herself a drink so she didn't look conspicuous.  Sharon made her way through the crowd to the bar and waited to catch Dan O'Brien's attention.

O'Brien saw the pretty young lady walk up to the bar and stare in his direction.  O'Brien made his way from the other side of the bar and greeted her.  “And what might you be drinkin' lass?”

“I'll have a Sea Breeze.  Thank you,” a nervous Sharon Winters answered.

O'Brien brought Sharon her drink and after paying him for it, she returned to the spot she had been standing.  It was a perfect location; she had an unobstructed view of Keegan's table.  Sharon watched as the other man returned and practically seemed to sit on Keegan's lap.  The Sea Breeze tasted good and it soothed Sharon's nerves a bit.  She was about halfway finished with it and felt she was doing a good job blending in to the crowd when she was greeted by an unfamiliar voice from behind.  “Can I buy you another drink?”

Sharon turned around to greet the voice and she politely turned him down.  “No thank you.”  The man was in his late twenties figured Sharon and he wasn't really bad looking but he was the last thing she wanted right now.

“You look so familiar,” the man continued.  “Where do I know you from?”

Sharon Winters shook her head in disbelief.  She knew she had never met him before.  The last thing she needed right now, was some guy to be hitting on her.

The waitress returned with Keegan's drink before Flynn returned from the rest room.  He was halfway done with the Guinness when Flynn finally rejoined him.  Flynn sat down extremely close to him and this made Keegan uncomfortable.  He was intentionally violating Keegan's personal space.  “So Mr. Keegan, Dan tells me you have some intelligence information you wanted to pass on to me to make me mission a little bit easier.  Is that right?”  He licked his lower lip and stared coldly into Keegan’s eyes.

“Well Sean,” softly began Keegan, trying to gain the hit man's trust.  “It's true.  I did receive intelligence regarding a hit on the Grand Marshall of the Saint Patrick's Day Parade.”

Flynn was curious.  “Now, Mr. Keegan, how would the New York City Police Department be gettin' such information?”

“Well Sean, it seems one of your buddies back home got caught in Derry with fifty pounds of explosives.  When they interrogated him, he gave them the information about the hit in return for not going to the Maze for the next ten years.  The good news is, he didn’t point fingers at you directly.  He said it would be done by a guy who went by the name Gerry…not Sean.”

Keegan studied the man for a reaction.

“God damn traitor!” exclaimed Flynn.  “Do ya know Mr.
Keegan; the single most detrimental blow to the cause of freedom in Northern Ireland for hundreds of years has been traitors.  The bastards should be publicly hanged, they should.”

Keegan sensed this was exactly the right time to gain favor with the man.  “Sean, you'll be very happy to know the man was found shot dead two days later in a back alley in the Bogside.  Apparently, he took a hell of a beating too before they finally executed him.”

Flynn was genuinely pleased at the outcome of the story.  He couldn't wait to get home and speak to Eamon Quinn to see who the traitor had been.  His money was on Mickey Clarke.  He never did trust him.  “Good.  Then he got what he deserved, now didn't he?”

Feeling he may have gained the man’s trust, Keegan took a deep breath and decided to get back to the heart of the matter.  “As I started to tell you Sean…here’s the problem.  I'm going to be the one in charge of security for Martin Devine.”

Flynn started to see where the conversation was going and he didn’t like it.  He was determined to infuriate Keegan.  “Good then Mr. Keegan.  You'll be able to make sure the security is loose enough for me to carry out the hit without any problems then, won’t ya?”  He gave him a gentle slap on the face.  “I thank you for that.  I owe ya one.”

Flynn downed the rest of his beer and held his empty mug in the air to signal the waitress for another.

Keegan became slightly frustrated that Flynn didn't understand what he was insinuating and decided to clarify it.  “Actually Sean, I was thinking it might be best if we called the entire operation off.”

His heart raced slightly, anticipating the man’s response.

“You do now, do ya?” snapped Flynn.  “Now that's a good one.  It is I tell ya.”

Flynn lit a cigarette staring menacingly at Keegan.

Keegan started to become more annoyed at Flynn's tormenting.  “Sean, I’m afraid you don't fully understand my predicament.  I'm in charge of Devine's security.  My job is on the line here,” Keegan explained, as if trying to garner some empathy from the man.

“Mr. Keegan, let me make this perfectly clear to ya.  I couldn't care any less about your job, nor do I care for you.  I wouldn't call this hit off if me own life depended on it.  I'm either going to carry out the hit or die trying.”

Keegan finally lost his cool with the man and he decided a more harsh approach was now necessary.  Keegan pointed his index finger in the man’s face and began to lecture him.  “Sean, Gerry, or whatever your real fucking name is…I think you should
seriously
consider calling it off because your life may very well be in danger.”

Now it was Flynn who became enraged.  He wasn't about to stand for Keegan's disrespect.  He had little tolerance for cops as it was.  He had drawn Keegan into the confrontation that he had hoped to.  Flynn raised his back up from the seat ever so slightly, extended his right leg and drew his gun from his waistband and held it under the table.  Keegan could feel the barrel of Flynn's gun against his own knee.  He then heard the familiar sound of the cocking of a gun's hammer through all the noise and commotion in the bar.

Keegan's mouth went dry instantly as he looked Flynn dead in the eyes, witnessing the stone cold eyes of a heartless murderer, staring into his own.  Keegan had dealt with plenty of murderers in the past.  This guy seemed different.  Uncaring about anything, including his own well being, Keegan assessed.

Keegan debated going for his service weapon.  After thinking about it for a few seconds, he opted not to.  He decided the best course of action would be to wait it out and see what the man does.  The man clearly had the tactical advantage over him.  Keegan felt if he had went for his gun, it would given the man the excuse he may have been looking for to shoot him.  He also realized even if he had gotten to his gun and shot it out with the hit man, there was the strong possibility of many innocent civilians getting seriously injured or even killed.

“Do you want to know me real name Mr. Keegan?”  It was a rhetorical question.  “Well, I'll tell ya then.  Me name is Gerald Flynn.  And to be honest with ya, I've no qualms about blowin' your fuckin' kneecap to pieces right here and now.  You do understand that, don’t ya, Mr Keegan?”

Flynn then drew a drag from the cigarette and blew the smoke in Keegan's face.  Keegan sat motionless and experienced a fear he had never before known.  Flynn could sense the terror he brought to Keegan and he enjoyed every minute of it.  I could shoot you right this second and calmly get up and walk out of here and nobody would dare look twice at me.  I'm just one face in a city of millions.  I'm a ghost Mr. Keegan, a ghost that can disappear and resurface at any time.

Flynn could hear Tommy McDermo
tt had just finished a song and asked the audience if they had any requests.  Flynn kept the gun flush against Keegan's kneecap as he called out to McDermott above the rest of the crowd.  “Hey Tommy, play
The Patriot Game
for me friend here.  It's his favorite.”

Keegan remained
calm, the steel barrel of the gun still pressed firmly against his knee.  He was familiar with the song Flynn had requested for him.  He had heard it often enough over the years frequenting McBride's.  It was about an idealistic young man who goes to join the I.R.A. because he wants to do his part to free Ireland.  At the end of the song, he's killed at the hands of a traitor.  The song was undoubtedly a message from Flynn that he had better not interfere.

He tried not to show how scared he really was.  He thought back to all his years as a homicide detective as well as back to his days on the streets as a patrol cop.  He'd arrested over six hundred people during his career and had received numerous death threats.  He had pushed that off as part of the job.  He never took any one of them seriously.  Any cop out in the street that makes a great deal of arrests, gets his life threatened every now and then.  But this threat was different.

There was no doubt in his mind, that Flynn was not only dead serious but also quite capable of carrying out the threat.  His heart was pounding heavy against his chest even after he heard Flynn uncock the gun’s hammer.  As loud as it was in the bar, Keegan had been tuned in to listen for that noise and was relieved to hear it.  Flynn placed the gun nonchalantly back into his waistband.  Keegan breathed a sigh of relief, listening carefully to the words of the last chorus;

Now as I lie here, my body all holes

I think of those traitors who bargained and sold

I wish that my rifle had given the same

To those quislings who sold out the Patriot Game

Keegan let the words sink in as Flynn got up from the table and threw his denim jacket over his right shoulder.  “Well done Tommy.”

Flynn applauded after the compliment.

He looked down at Keegan.  “Great job he did on that song, didn’t he?  One of me favorite songs.  Give Tommy a nice round of applause.  That was just for you, ya know.”

Flynn then picked up his beer as he stood over Keegan and chugged it down.  To add to the insult, he picked up the remainder of Keegan's Guinness and drained that as well.  Flynn pulled forty dollars out of his pocket and dropped it on the table.  “That should about cover me bill…and yours too.  No need to thank me.”

He patted Keegan on the shoulder, bent down and spoke softly into his ear.  “Now, Mr. Keegan, I strongly suggest you consider our conversation.  Think about your position.  Dan tells me you've three youngins at home as well as a most beautiful bride.  Think about them before you do anything foolish.  They need ya, they do.  I'm sure you'll make the right choice.”

Flynn strode arrogantly to the door, never giving Keegan a second glance.  He was pleased with himself.  He enjoyed terrorizing people and Keegan; a big, tough, hero cop had been extremely enjoyable.  Flynn took in a deep breath of the night air as he walked down Third Avenue to the side street where he had parked his car.  He felt fairly confident Keegan would understand the nature of his threats.

Sharon had watched the entire exchange between the two men unsure what exactly was going on.  She had almost stayed too long and when Flynn got up to leave the bar she wasn't sure what to do.  He was walking right towards her so she turned her back to him and waited for him to leave.  After Flynn exited the bar, Sharon placed her empty glass down and also left the bar.

She peeked outside and saw Flynn walking away without ever looking back.
  Once he was a safe distance away, she ran out of the bar's doorway, across the sparse traffic on Third Avenue to Louie Castillo's car.  Castillo threw the passenger door open for her.  She got in.  He tried to catch up to Flynn.  They watched as Flynn turned the corner onto Forty-Third Street and put his denim jacket on.  “So what happened in there?"  Castillo couldn’t wait to hear the details.

“I'm really not sure what to make of everything.”

She went on to explain how the two men seemed to have gotten into a heated argument.  At some point near the beginning, the younger guy took a gun from his waistband and appeared to hand it to the cop under the table.  The cop looked genuinely frightened.  Like maybe he was going to be caught or he was being watched.  He was careful never to have taken possession of the gun, unless he did momentarily under the table.  Then after a few minutes the guy put the gun back in his waistband and left.