Running on Empty (24 page)

‘So are we Tom, so are we. Look, I’ve arranged a meeting at ten this morning with some of my…acquaintances. If you don’t like what you see, if you don’t think we’re up to the task, just say the word and we’ll get you out of here to wherever you suggest, no questions asked. Your pursuers most likely haven’t left America yet, so there’s plenty of time to go to the meeting, and then decide what you want to do. Ok?’

Tom nodded. This was something he hadn’t bargained for. He knew this uncle of his, what had his mother said?, ‘always liked to face trouble head on’. But Tom didn’t want to be caught in the crossfire, literally as well as figuratively. Still, he had a reputation, and he didn’t get that for nothing. Maybe he knew what he was talking about.

I’ll wait and see how this meeting goes,
he thought,
but if I’m in any doubt, I’m taking off like a scalded cat.

After breakfast, he made his way round the back of the house, and walked the fifty or so yards down to the shore. He stood there, a stiff breeze blowing inland, watching the waves crashing off the rocks. Three large wind turbines stood a couple of fields away, dominating the surrounding flat landscape, their slowly turning blades emitting a low pitched groan
. He was too young to die, he’d too many things he still needed to see, to feel, to experience. He wanted to see Sally, for one. She was somewhere out there, somewhere on the other side of that vast stretch of water. But he knew he couldn’t be with her again, not with this whole Fielding, Lowanski mess hanging over his head. It was impossible. Maybe his uncle was right
.
Maybe this was the only way to move on. Get it out in the open. Throw the bones in the air, and whatever way they land, so be it. Maybe it was time to start making decisions, instead of just letting things happen
.

We’ll see what the meeting brings, then decide.

He heard a couple of vehicles approach the house. He stiffened instantly, alert, then relaxed slightly, remembering the forthcoming meeting. Turning, he headed back to the house.

When he got back, there were three others standing with Pat.

‘Right, here he is, let’s go’.

They all headed down a dirt track, to what they referred to as the ‘old house’. It had been the original dwelling, but when the new house was built, it was left standing, now being used as storage sheds, and occasionally as a manger when calves were being born. They all sat down around a somewhat unsound pine kitchen table.

‘We’re waiting for one more, and while we are, I’ll just introduce you to the rest of the lads here’.

‘Tom, this is Shay, Robbie and Dan. These are all old friends of mine, and people you can trust. Whether you want to trust them with your life, is your decision. But I can tell you, I fought with all these men, and I’d trust them with my life, if that’s any help’.

Tom studied the three faces. They looked like people you wouldn’t want to cross. They were all in their fifties, Tom guessed, and had faces that seemed to suggest they’d seen things and done things that ordinary men hadn’t.

‘Gentlemen, this is Tom. He’s my nephew, and is in a spot of bother’.

The sound of a high powered motorcycle approached, then stopped, as the engine was cut. A leather clad figure entered the old house.

As the helmet was removed, Tom nearly toppled over in his chair.

‘Tom, this is Grainne, Grainne Fahey. She’s the daughter of a very close friend of mine, now sadly deceased. Grainne, this is Tom, my nephew, and you know the rest of these reprobates here’.

Grainne gave a quick nod, then proceeded to remove a laptop from the rucksack she carried, placed it on the table and powered up.

‘Grainne is a bit of a computer wiz. If you’ve got any secrets, even ones you didn’t know you had, Grainne here will sniff them out’.

Tom was captivated. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a woman as beautiful. She had blond hair which fell to the middle of her back, tied back in a loose plat. Her lips were full, the color of ripe cherries. Her sallow clear skin was drawn over high cheekbones, and her eyebrows, which were the color of golden sand, had a tendency to raise and lower almost comically each time she discovered something interesting on her computer screen. Her nose was slightly pugged, which seemed only to add to her overall attraction.

But her eyes!

Those eyes were what every other feature on her face was sculpted to draw attention to. They were large oval orbs of vivid blue heaven. They were the color of the ocean on a warm summers day. They seemed to be beckoning Tom to dive into their aquamarine pools of beauty. She removed her biker jacket, throwing it over the back of the chair without her eyes leaving the screen. She wore a plain white t-shirt underneath, and nothing else, Tom observed sheepishly, his eyes unable to detach from the faint shape of her nipples underneath. She seemed to have no idea how stunning she was, making what appeared to be little or no effort on her appearance. She wore no make-up, as far as Tom could tell anyway, and her hair was kept in place by a small piece of black ribbon. Tom was being hypnotized now by those full lips, silently mouthing whatever words were appearing on her screen, while her brow furrowed slightly as she read.

‘…and like I was saying Tom, how many do you reckon?’

‘Huh?’

Pat gave Tom a knowing look.

‘We were just wondering if you had any idea how many you think they’ll send over after you?’

‘Four’

Everybody turned to Grainne, who had answered without lifting her head up from the computer.

‘There’s four of them, booked on the eight am flight from Boston. Departs Logan International airport ten fifteen am, arrives Shannon eight twenty four pm, both times local’.

‘And, how do you know it’s them?’ asked Pat curiously.

‘Four guys block booked on an International flight. Could be going to a seminar? Except there’s no booking information, no reference address. It’s a blank. It’s typical of Government bookings. However, there’s ways around that. Give me a minute. Here it is’

She looked up to Tom.

‘Are you’re offices in Halston Street, Boston?’

‘Yes’

‘We’ve plenty of time, then. They won’t be here before tomorrow, I shouldn’t think’ said Robbie

‘Wait…it’s a decoy’ said Grainne.

‘What?’ exclaimed a number of voices in unison.

‘It’s too easy. Any spotty-faced adolescent with a computer in their bedroom could have got that information if they were any good. There must be more’.

She took out a pouch containing roll-up tobacco and papers, and proceeded to roll herself a cigarette, which she lit with a Zippo produced from the other jacket pocket.

‘Mind if I have one of those’, asked Tom.

‘Sure, help yourself’ she answered, tossing the pouch and lighter across the table. She went back to hitting the keys and skimming the pad. Tom didn’t know which to admire most, her computer skills or her nipples. He reckoned it to be a dead heat.

‘Six of them, Boston to Dublin arriving……now!

It landed twenty minutes ago’.

‘But how can you be sure’, asked Pat, ‘I mean, are you positive?’

‘The six are also booked on a connecting flight to Knock Airport, Flight number A203, departing in eighteen minutes. Tom, does the name Nebraska Import & Distribution Company mean anything to you?’

‘No, why?’

‘That’s where the block booking originated’

‘And you’re sure that it’s them?’

‘Give me a name of one of the party you think might be on that flight’

‘Lowanski?’

‘Stanley Lowanski, born October thirteenth, 1968, passport number H6556633425F’.

‘Ok’ said Pat, ‘I think we can presume Grainne’s correct.

Eighteen minutes till departure, an hour in the air, ten minutes to collect the cars, and an hour’s drive. I reckon they’ll be here in two and a half hours, give or take, around one pm. So, the plan. Firstly, we’ll have the element of surprise. They don’t know that we know, but they’ll presume that if we do know, we’ll be expecting them tomorrow on that Shannon flight. They’ll be after studying maps, I’d imagine. Can they get us from cyberspace, Grainne?’

‘Google Earth doesn’t cover this area in enough detail, and, seeing as they’re a rogue outfit, I can’t see them having the power to shift satellites around in the sky. So, I think they’ll be relying on good old folding survey maps. I’d imagine if they’re any good, which I’m sure they are, they’ll have gathered enough information to pinpoint your house on those maps, though’ she answered.

‘Right, so they’ll know that the road to the house leads to nowhere but the sea after here. They aren’t going to drive, like a presidential convoy, straight to the house. They’ll know we’d be thinking ‘ one car could be lost tourists, two cars spells trouble’ even if we’re not expecting a visit today. So they’ll split up. My guess is, one car will approach on the road, while the other car will be ditched on the next road up, and they’ll make their way along the seashore on foot, to approach from the rear. Everyone agree that this would be the most likely scenario?’

They all nodded in agreement.

‘Grainne, I’d like you to keep working those fingers of yours. It’d be a help if we knew what they were driving’.

Grainne went back to her keyboard.

Tom began to lose interest in Grainne’s nipples, replaced by the realization that in a couple of hours or so, there’d be six people here to kill him.

‘I won’t have that information until they actually collect the cars’ she answered. ‘The rental companies work from a pool. It’s impossible to know until they’re collected’.

‘That’s ok, Grainne, we’ll get it when we get it, no rush.

We’ll split into two groups, one for the tourist car, one for the beachcombers. Now, let’s get kitted out’.

Pat left the room, returning moments later with a pickaxe. Two of them got hold of the old pine dresser standing against one wall of the decrepit former kitchen, and pulled it to one side. Pat began hacking at the plaster with his pickaxe. He broke through the wall, and stood back. Shay and Dan bent down and dragged a large bundle wrapped in tarpolium from the hole in the wall. They unwrapped the dusty cloth, revealing a mini arsenal. He handed out the weapons, a Glock handgun and magazines to both Shay and Dan, an AK-47 assault rifle to Robbie, and put his trusty M-90 sniper rifle to one side.

‘Shay and Dan, you think you’ll be able to handle the car on the road with those handguns? I’m thinking close range, tractor in the ditch diversion stroke ambush scenario. What do you think?’

‘It worked before, can’t see why it wouldn’t work on a few dumb yanks, answered Shay, before adding ‘ Sorry, no offense meant Tom’

‘None taken’ answered Tom, trying to keep a brave face.

Offence was the last thing on his mind. Staying alive was his main concern now.

‘Robbie and I will take out the ones approaching from the shore’.

He checked his watch.

‘Now gents,ETA is just over two hours from now. There’s all the cleaning equipment you’ll need in the drawer of that press. I suggest everyone field strips and cleans their weapon. These babies haven’t been discharged in quite a while’.

Pat took his M-90 to one corner of the room, and began stripping it down. Grainne stood up from her laptop and approached him.

‘What about my weapon Pat’

‘Now Grainne, you know what I’m going to say before I say it. Any child of Sean Fahey wouldn’t lack for courage, I know that and so do you. But, Sean was like a brother to me, and you know that too. In those long gone days, when we worked together, we knew we were up against it, and that one or maybe even both of us wouldn’t make it through. So, we agreed that if only one remained, he’d look after the other’s family as if they were his own. Given that, you hardly think I’m going to put you in the line of fire, do you? That would be breaking my word to your father, and that is something you know I’d never contemplate. And besides, this is a deadly game we’re about to play. It’s all surmise and guesswork. They may not do what we expect at all, and then, it’s all about adapting and hoping and risk taking. This is a game for old men, who’ve lived their lives and haven’t so much to lose. And if you think, after what I’ve said, I’m going to throw you into a situation like that, then you’re even crazier than I thought you were’.

‘Besides’ he continued with a twinkle in his eyes, ‘shouldn’t you be at home darning socks or knitting or something?’