Jack Higgins - Day of Reckoning

'You know what?' Murphy said. 'It's a waste of good women, but I'm going to kill the lot of you.'

He was looking at Hannah when he said that. Helen Black, close to the wheelhouse, pulled the Colt out of her boot and shot Kelly in the back of the head. The boat swerved, and everyone fell over. As Conolly tried to get up, she pushed herself upright, shot him dead, then ducked and dived over the rail as Murphy tried to shoot her.

At the same moment, Dillon grabbed Billy by the arm. 'Over!' he cried, and pushed him over the rail after Helen Black. As he tried to follow, Tomelty, still on the deck, grabbed his ankles, and Dillon went down.

'You bastard.' Murphy kicked him in the side. 'You're finally dead meat, Dillon, and you, bitch. Those two in the water aren't going anywhere. Fifteen minutes at this season of the year and it's hypothermia time. You two will get it quick, at least.'

Billy, close to Helen on the port side, said, 'I'm going to try for that gun in the wheelhouse.'

He didn't wait for a reply, simply jackknifed and went under the Highlander from port to starboard, scraping his back under the keel, surfaced, and reached up for the rail. As he pulled himself on board and slithered for the wheelhouse, he heard the exchange between Dillon and Murphy, unaware that, looking beyond Murphy and Tomelty, Dillon had seen him arrive.

'Come on, Brendan, why all the dialogue? In Derry in the old days, we didn't talk about it, we did it.'

On his knees in the wheelhouse, Billy dropped the flap and got his hand to the Walther, which Dillon had left cocked. He turned and shot Tomelty twice in the back, shattering his spine.

Murphy started to turn, shocked as Tomelty went down; Hannah kicked sideways at his left leg and he stumbled, which was Dillon's moment. He grabbed at the gun hand and came breast-to-breast.

'Now then, you dog.'

He pushed hard, Murphy staggered back, and they went over the stern rail.

And the sea was Dillon's, the master diver's element, not Murphy's. They went down perhaps ten feet. Dillon got an arm around Murphy's throat and then the anchor on its chain scraped his back. He grabbed it with his right hand and held on fast. Murphy kicked and struggled and Dillon held his breath until he was bursting, and then Murphy stopped struggling. Dillon let him go and surfaced.

He managed the ladder and hung there and Hannah looked over. 'All right, Dillon? What happened to Murphy?'

He hauled himself up. 'What do you think happened? As the Sicilians have it, Brendan Murphy is asleep with the fishes.'

He sat on the deck, his back to the wheelhouse. Billy was there, and Helen Black.

'You okay, Sergeant Major?'

'I'm fine, Mr Dillon.'

'And you, Billy?'

'What the fuck did you get me into, Dillon?'

'Billy, you saved the pass, to use an old-fashioned phrase. You were fantastic. The SAS couldn't have done better. On top of that, you've given Superintendent Bernstein a severe problem. Try not to get arrested, because she'll feel terribly guilty if she has to arrest you.'

Billy grinned and turned to Hannah. 'What do I have to do? Take up good works?'

'Just don't give me a problem, Billy.'

'Trouble is, I've been giving people a problem all my life.'

Dillon said, 'Let's get the bodies over the side. And do me a favour, Sergeant Major — take us out. I'll do a quick change and I'll be up to relieve you.'

'Leave it to me.'

'Come on, you two,' he said to Hannah and Billy. 'Let's get into dry clothes,' and he led the way below.

An hour later, Charles Ferguson was in his Cavendish Square flat, enjoying a nightcap, when his phone rang. Dillon was at the wheel alone, the others below. Pushing out into the Irish Sea, he had switched to automatic pilot and lit a cigarette as he spoke.

'Is it yourself, Brigadier?'

'Dillon! Where are you?'

'On our way back to Oban.' Dillon was using his Codex Four mobile. 'We can talk.'

'What's happened?'

'Well, the Kilbeg bunker is no more, and the Sergeant Major's proved a treasure. Killed two of Murphy's gang. Billy saved our bacon by killing another at the right time.'

'Good God! Is everyone all right?'

'Oh, right as rain, Brigadier. We're a tough lot.' 'Well, thank God for that. And Murphy?'

'Oh, I saw to him myself.'

'Well, you would, wouldn't you? So what now?'

'I'd say, six hours to Oban. The weather's not too good. If you could alert Lacey and Parry for a flight back to London around breakfast time?'

'Consider it done.'

'How's Blake?'

A post-operational infection. Daz and Martha have it in hand.'

'That's good. Fox is really going to be mortified over this lot.'

'I like that, Dillon, a good choice of words. I'll see you tomorrow.'

Dillon sat there at the wheel, and then the door opened, there was a bacon smell, and Billy appeared, a plate of sandwiches in one hand and a mug of tea.

'There you go, Sean.'

Billy turned to leave, and Dillon said, 'Billy, you were great. Harry will be proud of you.'

'Yes, but he won't know, will he? What I mean is, nobody knows unless they've done it, been there, bought the teeshirt, isn't that what they say? Jesus, Dillon, this wasn't some punch-up in an East End pub. I killed two men tonight.'

'They shouldn't have joined, Billy, if they didn't want the risk. Remember that.'

'Okay, I suppose so. So — now it's the Jagos and Fox?' 'Yes. I suppose it is.' Dillon finished the last sandwich. 'Go on, Billy. Get some sleep. You've earned it.'

Billy left, and Dillon turned from automatic pilot to manual and took the Highlander onwards over an increasingly turbulent sea.

LONDON

Jack Fox had gone down to the Grill Restaurant at the Dorchester to enjoy an English breakfast. He was reading The Times and just finishing poached eggs, sausage, ham and toast, when Falcone appeared.

'We've got a problem, Signore.'

'What now?' Fox asked.

'I've just seen Sky Television's news programme. I think you should see for yourself.'

'That bad?' Fox asked.

'I'm afraid so, Signore.'

In the suite, Fox watched the next news update with horror. The story of a large explosion at Kilbeg in County Louth led the hour. There were pictures of the Irish police on site, and reports of some kind of IRA connection, although the IRA and Sinn Fein had denied it. One thing was certain — four bodies had drifted on to the beach, three dead from gunshot wounds. The fourth was Brendan Murphy, a well-known dissident who had left the Provisional IRA and formed his own group. The suggestion was that the PIRA had taken his men out. It was thought that the explosion had involved an underground arms bunker, and this was being investigated.

There was a ring at the door. Russo answered and returned with a waiter carrying a tray with fresh coffee. He was dismissed and Russo poured.

Falcone said, 'Murphy owed you money, Signore.'

'Well, we can kiss that goodbye,' Fox said.

Falcone said, 'Please forgive me if I overstep the bounds, Signore, but I've been loyal to you for so many years that I feel I can ask this question: How bad are things?'

Fox looked at him. 'Pretty bad, Aldo. But we still have one ace in the hole left. The White Diamond Company heist on Tuesday.'

'You said ten million sterling.'

'With four to the Jagos.' Fox smiled. 'And you disagreed.' 'I sure did, Signore. I say we take the lot.'

'I'm beginning to agree, Aldo, but afterwards. Let these bastards do the hard work.'

Falcone smiled broadly. 'Excellent, Signore.'

'Okay, get in touch with the Jagos. I want a meet at lunchtime. Pick a quiet pub.'

'I'll arrange it, Signore.'

Falcone left to make the arrangements, but first he phoned Don Marco who, because of the time difference, was still in bed, but then, Falcone's instructions had been to call at any time of the day or night. The Don listened patiently.