Read And Blue Skies From Pain Online
Authors: Stina Leicht
And Blue Skies From Pain (41 page)
Liam shrugged.
The place smelled stale and was furnished with a couple of ancient wooden desks, a few battered chairs, a big, cluttered table, and a cracked chalkboard. Its green-grey surface was coated in smeared chalk writing.
Runs his unit like a classroom, does he?
Much like the Grand Inquisitor, the more Liam saw of Séamus the less he liked him.
Much like the Grand Inquisitor, the more Liam saw of Séamus the less he liked him.
The room was lit with freshly installed fluorescent lighting which emitted a low-level buzz that irritated Liam’s ears and set his teeth on edge. It did nothing for his mood. The surfaces of both desks were clear.
Tidy.
Unlike the big table in the center of the room which was stained and littered with crumpled paper and abandoned styrofoam coffee cups. The grey-speckled tile was filthy and gritty underfoot.
Tidy.
Unlike the big table in the center of the room which was stained and littered with crumpled paper and abandoned styrofoam coffee cups. The grey-speckled tile was filthy and gritty underfoot.
Séamus entered and closed the door. The window rattled in the upper half of its wooden frame. “Have a seat, lads.” Then he made his way over to the desk.
Frankie settled into one of the stiff-backed wooden chairs. Liam walked to the chalkboard but remained standing. He squeezed his fists tight and then loosened them.
Calm. Stay calm. Father Murray is depending on you.
Frankie mouthed a warning.
Don’t do it.
Don’t do it.
Pulling open a drawer, the sounds of glass clinking against glass jarred the cold air. Séamus produced a bottle of whiskey and two relatively clean glasses. “I’ve been saving this for this moment.”
Liam, unwilling to play Séamus’s game, waited to hear the rest. Séamus held up an empty glass. Liam paused a few heartbeats before aiming a punch for Séamus’s face. Séamus shuffled a few steps backward. Frankie leapt up from his seat and grabbed Liam’s arm. The chair was knocked over with a clatter.
“Don’t, Liam!” Frankie’s grip was tight. “It’ll do no good!”
“You fucking kidnapped us!”
“Calm down,” Frankie said. “Listen to him! Will you?”
“Let me go, Frankie,” Liam said. “I’m warning you.”
Frankie said, “Be reasonable—”
“Reasonable?” Liam asked.
“We’ve got your friend,” Séamus said in a steady voice. He wiped blood from his lip. “Don’t you care what happens to him?”
A chill passed through Liam’s belly.
Fuck. You’ve bolloxed it up already. Stupid.
He nodded and then yanked his right arm free from Frankie’s grip.
Fuck. You’ve bolloxed it up already. Stupid.
He nodded and then yanked his right arm free from Frankie’s grip.
“Now, I apologize for the abruptness of our arrival. I’d intended a much more gentle introduction. However, it seems you’re better at hiding away than I’d believed possible,” Séamus said, making a second attempt at handing off the glass. “Where were you all this time?”
“Around,” Liam said. His jaw was so tight it hurt. With a deep breath, he accepted the glass.
“Ah, I see,” Séamus said. “You prefer to keep your secrets, so you do.” He poured two fingers of whiskey into Liam’s glass and then followed it up with two for himself. No offer was made to Frankie. “I can respect that in a man, provided he can keep his secrets regardless of provocation.”
“What is it you fucking want from me?” Liam asked. The smell of whiskey didn’t do anything good for his stomach at the moment. “Because from here it looks like you’ve gone to a fucking lot of trouble just to have me tell you to sod off.”
“Again, he gets to the point. It’s consistent, you are,” Séamus said. “I like that too. Well, then.” He emptied his glass. “You’ve given my proposal consideration.”
“Aye. I have. And I’ve no wish to join up again,” Liam said. “As I said before. I’ve done my bit.”
Séamus nodded. “Is that your final answer?”
“Is this the part where you threaten Father Murray?” Liam asked.
“I’m afraid it is,” Séamus said, pouring another drink. “Drink up. You may need it before the evening is through.”
Liam handed his glass to Frankie. “I only drink with mates.”
Pausing, the corner of Séamus’s mouth twitched. “I understand. We hardly know one another. And I’m not one for easily placing trust in others myself.” He turned to Frankie but kept his gaze on Liam. “Bring another glass, will you, Frankie? There’s a lad.”
Unhappy, Frankie left. The sound of him trotting down the stairs was loud on the other side of the glass window. His receding footfalls were confused with another’s as someone else made their way up.
“Don’t make this any harder on yourself than it has to be,” Séamus said. “Understand, I’ll have what I want from you. One way or the other.”
“So you say,” Liam said and shrugged. His heart tapped out a rapid beat.
Stay calm. Remember Father Murray.
Stay calm. Remember Father Murray.
“Big talk for a lad in your position,” Séamus said.
“And what position is that?” Liam asked.
The man with the long brown hair and broken teeth entered the room. An invisible cloud of decay seemed to follow him. Liam scanned his scarred face, searching for a sign that he was one of the Fallen. It would explain why Séamus was so persistent. It would also explain why he’d been so reckless. Frankie had been right. The Nationalist community wouldn’t stand for a priest being harmed. They’d do anything to see Father Murray safe—even if it meant turning on Séamus and his boys. Still, Liam detected nothing unusual—no hump, only the stink.
The stink is enough, isn’t it?
In the back of his skull, the monster shifted. He got the feeling it was restless, watchful.
Was the same with Jensen, aye? Wait. Keep an eye on the ugly bastard.
The stink is enough, isn’t it?
In the back of his skull, the monster shifted. He got the feeling it was restless, watchful.
Was the same with Jensen, aye? Wait. Keep an eye on the ugly bastard.
“You’ll drive,” Séamus said. “And my boys will take care of the rest.”
Frankie returned with another glass and a second bottle of whiskey. The ugly man with the long brown hair motioned to Séamus.
“Stay here. Think about it,” Séamus said.
“What’s to think about if it’s already fucking settled?” Liam asked.
Séamus’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t piss me about too much, lad.” He crossed the room to where the ugly man was standing.
Straining for any hint of what was being said, Liam thought they might be discussing Father Murray, but he couldn’t be sure. The longer the conversation went on, the more Liam didn’t like the look of things. It was clear Séamus wasn’t telling the whole of what was going on. Of course, when it came to it, Liam could trust fuck all.
Frankie whispered, “Tell him you’ll do it. Please.”
“Who is that man?” Liam asked, accepting the glass from Frankie.
“Him?” Frankie asked. “That’s Mickey.”
Liam asked, “And how well do you know this Mickey?”
“Not that well. Doesn’t talk much. He’s one of Séamus’s mates. From Crossmaglen, so I’m told. Showed up when Séamus did. When Patrick was topped by the RUC last year. I came back from the Crum, and Séamus was our new OC,” Frankie said. “You know something about Mickey I should know?”
Liam said, “Maybe.”
“Is he a Peeler?” Frankie asked in a whisper.
Liam studied Frankie’s face. He was scared, that was easy to see. “What makes you ask?”
The door slammed as Mickey left.
“Well?” Séamus asked, returning. “What have you to say for yourself?”
“What exactly do I get out of this?” Liam asked.
With his back to Séamus, Frankie gave Liam a pleading look. Liam presented him a quick wink in exchange.
“If a love for your country isn’t enough of a reason,” Séamus said. “I’m prepared to pay you a wee bonus.”
“How much?” Liam didn’t actually care, but there were things he might learn from Séamus’s answer.
For example, how likely it is Father Murray and myself are going to see the other side of this.
For example, how likely it is Father Murray and myself are going to see the other side of this.
“How does one thousand quid sound?” Séamus asked.
Shite.
“That’s mighty generous of you. Are you certain HQ will be all right with such a thing? Doesn’t that cut into their funding a wee bit?”
“That’s mighty generous of you. Are you certain HQ will be all right with such a thing? Doesn’t that cut into their funding a wee bit?”
“It’s generous because I feel we’ve a need to smooth things out. To make up for how you’re being brought in. And if what’s in the vault is as much as I understand, that’s nothing,” Séamus said. There was a gleam in his eye that Liam would’ve sworn couldn’t be accounted for by mere patriotism. “Understand, I can also make certain arrangements in Derry. Get the RUC off your back. It’d be nice to see your ma, wouldn’t it? Stop hiding? Get a decent place to sleep?”
That’s not fucking possible. He’s lying.
“And if I don’t accept?” Liam asked.
“And if I don’t accept?” Liam asked.
Séamus poured another round. “Then I don’t think your friend will be saying Christmas mass ever again. Not that you’ll be fit for much other than a funeral yourself. Mind, what they find of you will fit in a very small box once Davy and Mickey are done. Consider it a blessing in disguise. Will save your poor ma the cost of a casket.”
“You can’t mean to kill a—”
“Frankie, shut your gob,” Séamus said. “I won’t tell you again.”
Something is very wrong. No Provo would kidnap a priest.
“Driving isn’t that rare a skill. I can’t be the only driver in all of the Provisional IRA, for fuck’s sake,” Liam said.
“Driving isn’t that rare a skill. I can’t be the only driver in all of the Provisional IRA, for fuck’s sake,” Liam said.
Shrugging, Séamus said, “There are others, to be sure. But you’re the one I want.”
“Why?”
“Frankie, there, says you’re the best.” Séamus again emptied his glass.
Fuck that. This isn’t about the best. Séamus wants someone good and more importantly, expendable.
“All right,” Liam said. “I’ll do it. But I’ll not carry a gun. I’ll drive, but I won’t kill for you,” Liam said.
“All right,” Liam said. “I’ll do it. But I’ll not carry a gun. I’ll drive, but I won’t kill for you,” Liam said.
Séamus raised an eyebrow. “Very well. No gun.” He poured more whiskey into his glass. “Welcome to the unit, Mr. Kelly. You’ll find, as OC, I can be firm but easy to work with.”
“As long as you have your way,” Liam said.
“Frankie, see to it he’s sorted,” Séamus said, and tossed Frankie a key ring.
The keys jangled as Frankie caught them. “Yes, sir.” He got to his feet.
“And get rid of that stupid jacket,” Séamus said. “It’s unbecoming.”
Who the fuck does he think he is?
Liam felt Frankie grab his arm again.
Liam felt Frankie grab his arm again.
“Come on, Liam.”
“Where are we going?” Liam asked.
“To get some rest. Have you eaten?” Frankie asked. He waited to say more until they were both at the bottom of the stairs. “You shouldn’t have pushed him so far.”
“I don’t like him.”
There’s a Fallen somewhere close. I know it.
There’s a Fallen somewhere close. I know it.
Frankie glanced up at the windows, and Liam spied Séamus looking down on them.
“I don’t much either. But that doesn’t fucking matter,” Frankie said. “And you know it.”
“Why is he for pulling this job, do you think?”
“Don’t be stupid.” Frankie started across the warehouse floor, his breath making little clouds in the cold.
The gritty cement floor was stained and cracked from years of abuse. Frost coated the few windows facing the outside. Liam glimpsed an empty field and a burned-out tenement building. The wind tugged at the trees. Winter was settling in for the night. The sound of the wind pushing and pulling at the warehouse’s tin walls made Liam think of Long Kesh.
“Séamus is loyal to the Cause, is he?” Liam asked. “Because that’s not the way it looks from here.”
“Shut up.” Frankie glanced up at Séamus again, who was still watching. “Are you trying to get yourself topped?”
“What’s the point? That’s where I’m headed isn’t it? Once this is done.”
“Don’t say that.” Frankie led him to the wall of offices on the opposite end of the warehouse. Another set of stairs led up to a loft on top. Liam counted four offices on the bottom—all with windows facing the inside space. In the office to the far left, Liam spied Father Murray sitting tied to a chair.
“Are they planning on leaving that fucking bag on his head the entire time?” Liam asked.
I need to warn him. Wonder if Frankie will give him a message for me?
I need to warn him. Wonder if Frankie will give him a message for me?
“You know as well as I do that it’s best that it stays,” Frankie said. “What he can’t see, he can’t report to the RUC or the army.”
“Aye.” Liam hated feeling powerless to help even if it was in the smallest way. “It’s only that it’s hard to breathe inside one of those fucking things.”
Frankie stopped at the office door on the farthest right. Looking through the window, Liam saw they’d placed two mattresses on the floor. A sleeping bag was unrolled on top of each. It was also furnished with a couple of chairs and a table. The keys rattled as Frankie unlocked the door.
“I don’t care for what’s been done. It isn’t right,” Frankie whispered. “Davy is always telling anyone who’ll hear that the Church doesn’t fucking care how many innocents die in this war. They’d rather we surrendered to the British so they can go on taking money from the starving as they always have. Mickey is with him. Me, I don’t know. Mind you, there’ve been times I can see the point, aye? But this? A kidnap? It’s too far. So, why? Why is he so important to you?”
“Father Murray married us, my Mary Kate and me. I’ve known him longer than I’ve known you. Since I was practically a wean.”
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