Tom Graham: Blood, Bullets and Blue Stratos

At that very moment, shots rang out. Michael Deery jumped aside as Lanky took a succession of bullets to the chest that sent him jerking backwards; he dropped his rifle, turned on his heel as if he were executing a ballet move, then toppled forward, straight and stiff-backed.

Sam ducked lower behind the screen of the bush, peering hard at what was happening on the top of the hill. He could see the stocky man swinging his rifle about wildly, looking for a target but not finding one. He fired blindly all around him, and then started to run. Gunfire crackled in every direction — the IRA team had spread out and surrounded the brick building, and now they were rushing in from all sides. Stocky took a hit to the leg that blew his kneecap away; his leg bent backwards, the bones breaking so loudly that Sam and Gene heard the crack from where they were hiding.

‘That’ll sting,’ muttered Gene.

Stocky went down, firing hopelessly into the air as he went. At once, Michael Deery rushed over to him, drawing a pistol. He kicked away Stocky’s rifle, grabbed him by the neck and leant over him, shaking him, shouting, thrusting the barrel of the pistol into his face. Something enraged him, and he leapt up and stamped hard on Stocky’s shattered leg.

‘That,’ whispered Gene,’ is called “interrogating in a hurry”.’

Deery stamped again, and the stocky man’s scream of pain echoed out across the lonely landscape. It was taken up and mocked by the shrieking gulls. Stocky feebly raised his hand and Deery bent low to listen to what he had to say. A few moments later, Deery straightened, looked out to sea, then turned back. Without hesitation, he pressed the muzzle against Stocky’s chest and blew his heart out.

Sam felt a sudden twinge in his own heart, as if he were experiencing an echo of Stocky’s death. He gritted his teeth and forced the pain away, just as he forced away the sudden image of the black-clad Test Card Girl that drifted into his mind.

The IRA members, converging from all sides, were now meeting up on the crest of the hill. Without speaking a word, they rushed straight at the ugly brick building, smashed the door down and rushed inside. A muffled shot was heard, and a few moments later a body was dragged out and thrown across the other two.

‘Thorough, methodical, coordinated,’ said Gene, nodding to himself like a connoisseur of violence. Perhaps he was imagining what use he could put such a team to if they were on his side instead of the enemy’s.

‘I guess we can’t do anything,’ said Sam. ‘We can’t go charging up there to nick them — we’ll end up as just two more bodies on the pile. We should get back to the car and follow them where they go next. C’mon, Guv.’

Crouching low, moving with the utmost care, Sam led the way back down the slope to the Jensen. As he went, he began to wonder just what the two of them could achieve here, trailing after Deery and his team and watching them execute the RHF in a series of bloody firefights. If this was policing, then it was a form of the job Sam had never experienced. But what else could they do? He hadn’t thrown away a life in 2006 just to do the same here. That IRA team would have no reservations about adding a couple of British coppers to the day’s body count — if anything, they’d relish the opportunity.

‘We need a better plan, Guv,’ said Sam, reaching the car. ‘But I’m damned if I can think of anything. Guv? Guv! ’

It was only then that Sam realized Gene had not followed him back to the car. Instead, the guv was walking slowly up the hill, heading for the brick building at its summit, making no effort to disguise his approach. He had removed his body holster and was holding it aloft, the Magnum stowed inside it, swinging it above his head as he walked, like a man surrendering to a superior force.

‘Jesus, Gene!’ Sam hissed.

The men at the top of the hill saw Gene approaching. Moving as one, they raised their rifles, military fashion, nestling the stocks against their shoulders and peering through the gun sights at him, ready to blow him to pieces.

‘Wait!’ Michael Deery ordered. ‘Hold your fire!’

The men with the raised rifles remained completely motionless. Gene stopped, holding up the holster and the Magnum. Sam froze too, half crouched behind the Jensen, hardly daring to breathe.

There was a silent pause, broken only by the hiss and wash of the sea at the foot of the cliffs. The slow light of dawn began to filter across the landscape.

The game of statues came to an end when Michael Deery took a few steps forward, eyeing Gene coldly.

‘So,’ he said. ‘It’s you, is it? You’re the copper been following me and the missus around all this time?’

‘One of ’em, yes,’ Gene replied. ‘The other’s right over there.’

Sam felt his blood turn to ice.

Good God, Gene! he thought. What the hell are you doing ?

Two of the rifles swivelled round and aimed at Sam. He instantly put his hands up, his body tensed in anticipation of the hail of bullets.

‘Drop the gun,’ ordered Deery. Gene obeyed. Deery peered across at Sam and said, ‘You too.’

Sam carefully held out his firearm, placed it on the ground and stepped back from it.

Deery muttered something to his companions, then came striding down the slope towards Gene, his own pistol still in his hand. He beckoned Sam over. As Sam obeyed, he watched the two sets of rifles that were trained on him track him carefully as he walked.

‘You can put your hands down,’ said Deery quietly. ‘Try anything, and the two of yous will be dead in a second. But you know that.’

‘And you know why we’re here,’ said Gene. ‘My colleague tried to spring your daughter from the compound last night. He nearly got his gums Black amp; Deckered for his troubles.’

Michael looked intensely at Sam, his face hard and hostile, as if he blamed Sam for his daughter’s plight.

‘Mary was okay when I saw her,’ said Sam. ‘Physically and mentally. She’s holding up. She’s strong.’

‘Anyone touched her?’ Michael asked aggressively.

‘I don’t think so.’

‘She getting enough grub?’

‘She’s no use to them dead,’ said Sam. ‘They’ll keep her alive and in one piece — just so long as they can keep squeezing guns and explosives out of you and your wife. Your daughter’s in no danger if you keep paying the ransom.’

‘But we can’t keep paying,’ said Michael, his voice low. ‘That’s why we’re here. We’re not here on a regular assignment. This is a private matter. No need for police involvement. You’re better off turning a blind eye till we’re through.’

‘Can’t do that, Mickey,’ said Gene. ‘It’s not the Wild West. We’re still the law round here — me and him, not you boys.’

‘The law doesn’t apply here today,’ said Deery. ‘Let me and my lads finish this. None of us want word of this to get out. What’s been happening of late don’t put me in a good light, nor the boys up there. And it don’t do the Cause no favours neither. Just leave us to deal with it. No one’ll miss them Red Hand bastards. This whole thing can be sorted — like it never happened.’

Gene shook his head slowly. ‘I want Peter Verden and his merry band of playmates behind bars, Mickey, not lying in body bags.’

‘Behind bars?’ said Michael with a cold smile. ‘They wouldn’t be the only ones you’d be looking to bang up, though, would they? You’d be after me and them fellas up there too. Can’t let that happen.’

‘You seem to have got the mistaken idea into your head that I’m negotiating with you,’ growled Gene. ‘I’m not asking for anything, Deery — I’m telling . You and your spud-suckers don’t dictate terms, not to CID they don’t; not to me . Am I getting through to you, Murphy?’