Will Thomas - To Kingdom Come

“Are you satisfied now, gentlemen, that I am whom I claim to be?” he asked, buttoning his sleeve. “This exercise is getting tedious.”

“Of course we are, sir,” Dunleavy stated, anxious to make peace. “Forgive these young fellows’ doubts, please. It seemed too good to be true that we should come upon you just at this time.”

“And what time would that be, sir?” Barker asked.

O’Casey gave a smug smile. “A week after we bombed London.”

So, they admit it, I told myself. Barker was on the right track. I should have known such an old hunter would find the scent. My employer broke into a laugh.

“Ho, ho, so it was you! I should have suspected. Well, gentlemen, I don’t know what you need of my services. Two attacks in one night! You are doing well enough on your own. From what I read in The Times, London has certainly sat up and taken notice.”

“Aye, but the dynamite we’re using is rubbish,” Garrity said. “It failed to go off at the Ship Street Barracks in Dublin last month. We made two earlier attempts that failed in London, and a bomb we left in Trafalgar Square the same night was a failure as well.”

“What kind of explosives are you using?”

“Atlas. American made,” Dunleavy answered.

“I am familiar with the brand. It is industrial grade. Where did you get it?”

“It was donated by an American Irishman from Cincinnati and shipped here on a freighter, hidden in a shipment of raw tobacco.”

“There is your problem, gentlemen. Chances are it had been sitting in a warehouse for years until the fellow needed to get rid of it. He knew you were desperate and convinced himself he was doing his bit for Irish freedom in the Old Country. Then it had to endure an ocean voyage with all that salt air. I would wager that the cakes are sweaty and that there is a waxy residue in the bottom of the case.”

“Yes, there is,” Garrity admitted.

“Then it is a marvel you haven’t blown yourselves up. What you have is highly unstable. The nitroglycerin has separated partially from the kieselguhr base. It can explode at any minute, or the liquid can leak onto the wires around the primer, rendering the entire bomb inert. I strongly advise that you dispose of whatever you have left. A bomb is a tool and it should be reliable, like any other. It must go off when you want it to, or you have no control over it.”

“Up until now,” O’Casey admitted, “it’s been ‘throw it all together and hope it works.’ No offense intended, Niall.”

“None taken. We could really use your expertise, Mr. van Rhyn. You could help us strike a strong blow for the Irish cause and make us all heroes. What do you say?”

“I say you are already heroes, Herr Garrity. Five years ago, I aided a group in Montenegro who were fighting Turkish tyranny. Now they live in a free country, thanks to young men just like yours. Provided we agree upon the terms, I will gladly help.”

Dunleavy poured another glassful, his fourth, and studied us shrewdly. “We are not wealthy, Mr. van Rhyn. We are dependent upon the aid of various Irish organizations in America. What sort of terms are you proposing?”

“It is not money I have need of, Colonel. I desire to have a permanent laboratory, without the fear that my door shall be kicked in during the night by the secret police. I have been incarcerated six times in the last four years, and I have had enough. My eyes are slowly failing me, and I am getting too old to jump from one country to another. I want a home and a place to continue my work. My work, gentlemen! A man is nothing without his work.”

Dunleavy drained his glass again and set it down. “As a military man and a politician, sir, I’ve had to make several promises I was not sure I could keep, but what you ask is not too much. Aid us in our campaign against the Queen, and you shall have your laboratory.”

Barker slowly put forth his hand. “A gentlemen’s agreement, then?” he asked. The colonel took his hand and shook it solemnly. I looked over. O’Casey and Garrity had broken into grins.

“Gut,” Barker said, filling his glass with more schnapps. “I was intent upon leaving the country, but you make me take heart again. I believe I shall stay. It would be a shame to leave now when things are just beginning to get interesting. And as a German, I am, of course, concerned about English arrogance, especially regarding the seas. It is necessary that the Germans, the Irish, and the Americans show England that they shall not be cowed by its imperialist expansion. Who better than the Germans to be your allies, gentlemen?”

I thought he was laying it on a bit thick, but it was obvious these Irish radicals were impressed by his speech. They would ally themselves to Satan if it meant they could have their own country. It occurred to me, then, to wonder what would happen if they succeeded. A country just thirty miles away led by bombers and anarchists would not, in my opinion, be a stable ally; and should they truly form an alliance with Germany, where already there were rumblings of discontent, it would form an imminent threat to English security. That is to say, to my security. If we didn’t stop these people, I could find myself with a rifle in hand on some foreign battlefield or, worse than that, in our own country. It would be 1066 all over again.

“Mr. van Rhyn,” Dunleavy said, “we have done a desperate thing. We have planned a second attempt upon London within the month, using the very dynamite you have urged us to destroy. We are committed to this venture and shall go forth with our campaign, but if this dynamite is as dangerous or worthless as you say it is, we must find another source. Nowhere in these godforsaken isles will they allow an Irishman or an American to purchase dynamite, blasting caps, chemicals, or even so much as base materials. The Special Irish Branch and Scotland Yard are watching, hoping to catch us in the attempt. This dynamite is all we have in the way of munitions.”

“You have adequately described some of the obstacles in our path,” Barker stated, “but allow me to ease your mind upon a few points. First of all, Mr. Penrith and I are very obviously not Irish and would be able to purchase materials forbidden to you. My name, as well, might open some doors, though it might close others. Rather than attempt to purchase the ready-made dynamite or nitroglycerin, the two of us will be able to make them ourselves. We would then be able to fashion our own bombs. I would suggest we purchase the equipment elsewhere, such as Amsterdam or Paris, where the officials are not so vigilant.”

“They’re vigilant enough,” Garrity complained. “I’ve been trying to buy materials for weeks.”

“You just leave that matter to Mr. Penrith and me, Mr. Garrity. I believe we can work around it. Within thirty days, we’ll have these Londoners dancing a jig again.”

“Arrogant English aristocrats,” Dunleavy slurred. The drink had finally gone to his head and loosened his tongue. “Let’s see how they feel when half their monuments are in rubble. Let’s see how they feel when we blow their Queen’s head off her shoulders!”

“He’s had too much,” O’Casey apologized, and he and Garrity helped lift Dunleavy out of his chair. “If I may, I’d like to call on you gentlemen in the morning.”

We shook hands quickly, and they maneuvered the American out into the hall. I could still hear him as they escorted him down the corridor.

“We won’t stop till the town’s in ruins. Dublin will be liberated from English oppression. And who shall be its new leader? Alfred Dunleavy, that’s who! What do you think about that, Mr. Gladstone?”

They let us alone the next morning, and we went into the dining room for a good breakfast. I thought it possible the colonel was sleeping off the effects of the whiskey he had consumed. It felt strange not attending a service on the Sabbath, but Barker explained that he could not risk having van Rhyn, that old anarchist, seen in a Baptist church. We read the newspapers until eleven thirty, when there was a sharp rap upon our door. It was Eamon O’Casey with a gnarled wooden stick in one hand and a gladstone bag in the other.