Last Out From Roaring Water Bay (50 page)

I noticed his trigger finger relaxed. He lowered his revolver. “On the contrary, Speed, she’s a bigger pain in the neck than you are.” His automatic rose again and he took aim. “Tell me where the gold is hidden, and you might just be in time to stick your finger in the bullet hole and prolong the death of one of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police’s finest undercover operatives.”

Confused, I said, “Canadian who?”

Morgan expressed surprise. “Don’t tell me the intrepid metal detector man, extraordinaire, didn’t know our lovely Shayna is a damn policewoman?”

I just hate that feeling when some bastard is one frigging step ahead of me. I should have refuted Morgan’s claim that she was police, but suddenly things that had bothered me about her had gelled together. My head spun round to her. I paused for a moment as she desperately fought to save a dying man.

With suppressed anger, I said, “Frigging hell, Shayna. Is it true?”

She did look at me but said nothing. The tears rolling down her cheeks were genuine, and at that moment Deveron died. I must be quite hard deep down because I felt nothing towards his death. I thought it was more of an inconvenience at that moment.

As for Shayna, she had produced more twists and turns in her life that were harder to follow than a roadmap in the dark with no torch. Was she a terrorist, or not? Was Morgan simply shooting shit from his mouth about her being an undercover operative? Regardless of what was the truth I couldn’t let her die too.

I turned back to Morgan. “You get the gold if Shayna lives.”

“Not in the script, Speed.”

“Well you’d better rewrite the script, Morgan. She either accompanies me or you might as well kill us both here and now and be done with it.”

I was gambling with our lives with my fingers crossed behind me.

Shayna, understandably, was horrified, probably expecting the bullet any second when Morgan made a sudden movement. But Morgan aimed his gun at me instead.

“Don’t tempt fate, Speed. Desperate men take desperate measures, and I think you’re desperate. One more death isn’t going to bother me in the slightest, nor am I likely to lose sleep over your death. I have my reasons why she should die. Have you ever heard the saying: ‘A Mountie always gets their man?’ I don’t wish to be hiding beneath a stone for the rest of my life. She might have failed on this mission but I’ve no desire to allow her a second opportunity. She’s outstayed her welcome.”

My heart might have been jigging about inside my ribcage, but my expression remained defiant, calm, no emotions of fear. That was me all over, hard on the outside, and soft on the inside; to be honest I was on the verge of falling to pieces, but I kept my composure. I had to, for both our sakes. “I’m not interested in the gold, just the girl. I don’t want to see her harmed. She remains by my side or nothing. You decide, Morgan.”

“There’s no guarantee to be any gold at all, Speed. Why should I want to spare her when she intends to see me put in prison.”

It was then I remembered my get-out-of-gaol-card, the piece of Japanese gold I’d hidden in my trouser pocket. I quickly retrieved it and tossed the gold piece through the bars. Numerous eyes followed the mesmerizing gold flash as it hit the floor with a metallic tinkle. Hamer picked up the gold from the floor, gloating at the piece, a look of desire filling his fat face. Hesitantly he passed it to Morgan.

Thankfully Morgan lowered his gun. He took the gold ingot from Hamer and examined it thoroughly.

I wanted to breathe a sigh of relief but that would have only exposed my weakness under pressure, so I held my breath a little longer, exhaling slowly through my nostrils.

Morgan nodded his approval to my demands. I’d won round one. “I hope she’s worthy of your gallantry, Speed. So now will you tell me where the rest of the gold is?”

“And you shoot us in the back the moment I tell you? Give me some credit, please. Besides, I can’t explain exactly where it is, I can only show you.”

“Okay, Speed, I’ll accept that. Just remember no funny business or stupidity or the girl dies. So to what destination should we sail?”

“Head towards Crookhaven. It’s on the other side of the Bay.”

“The gold’s in Crookhaven?”

“In and around,” I said, “It’s useless trying to trick me, Morgan. I won’t know where the gold is hidden until I’ve had the chance to cast an eye over the area. I’ve already explained I can only show you where the gold is hidden.”

Without another word they left us alone. I’d gained a stay of execution without a doubt, but for how long before Hamer came back and shot me. I knew deep down that no matter what I did or say, there was no way either of us would escape death. Just before Morgan left the stockade room, I said to him. “What about Deveron, you can’t just leave the man here to rot.”

Morgan glanced over his shoulder. “Of course I can. I’ll leave you two to decide which corner you put him in.”

I gave Morgan the appropriate American middle finger salute and mumbled, “Callous bastard”, as his back disappeared out of sight.

Shayna turned away from Deveron and wiped her eyes. I put the old mans legs up onto the bed before rigor mortis stiffened his aging bones, covered his body with the shabby blanket and moved away. I wondered how long we had before a body began to smell and attract flies; hopefully not until we’d reached Crookhaven.

When I looked at Shayna I saw for the first time that she had fear in her eyes which I would never have expected in a million years. I didn’t know what to say to her about Deveron. I’m pretty useless on such delicate matters. I’ve simply never been any good dealing with dead people.

She said, “I never thought it would end this way.”

I smiled. “We’re not done for just yet.”

“How come you’re so calm?”

I placed the palm of her hand over my pumping heart. “Only on the outside, as you can feel, Shayna. I can’t let these frigging shits think I’m crumbling under the pressure. But while I continue to keep them interested, we keep on living, it’s that simple.”

“You’ve obviously got something up you sleeve, Shackleton?”

“Shayna, believe me, I’m playing this minute by minute. All we can do is let fate take its course and see if we can steer it to our advantage.”

“That’s it? That’s our strategy?”

“If you hadn’t noticed, Shayna, there are bars of tungsten steel prohibiting us from doing very little else. Besides, according to Morgan, you’re supposed to be the professional. What did he say you were, Canadian Mounted Police? Somehow I just can’t imagine you in a bright red uniform, riding a large horse, in pursuit of the baddies through the snow capped Rockies.”

“For your information clever-clogs, we wear grey uniforms. The bright red uniforms are for ceremonial occasions and the movie world.”

“Well sit on my face and smother me to death for getting it wrong!”

“Give me a break, will you!” She snapped and then sat down on the floor with her back against the bulkhead. “I’m on your side for fucks sake!”

I sneered. “You weren’t exactly on my side when you kidnapped me and used my body for dart practice.”

“If I’d have intervened, I’d have blown my cover.” She protested.

“It still hurts in places. Which reminds me, when I catch up with your buddies, that spotty fucker is destined for my boot up his arse and his darts rammed down his throat sideways.”

“You shouldn’t have been at McClusky’s in the first place.”

“I was conned to go there.”

“You’re lucky I was there to protect you or you may have ended up floating in the River Thames.”

“Well thanks for nothing. And that includes my captivity in terrorist hands and the abuse I was put though. And I might add, taking advantage of my weakened state by someone not too far away.”

“You’re still complaining?”

“Did it mean anything?”

“No, not at the time it didn’t”

“I thought I’d ask.”

“Look at it from my point of view. I’d spent two fucking years undercover, acting like a dyke to convince my so called brothers-in-arms I’m not theirs to touch, and then you came along and gave me an excuse to release my sexual frustrations. I couldn’t resist the opportunity. I’m sorry that I used you.”

“You took a chance. What if they’d sneaked back and caught you unawares?”

“I made it happen quick. No point in wasting time to get satisfaction.”

“And that’s it; you used me?”

“What did you want at the time, a fucking love song whispered in your ear? Can we give this entire verbal fighting a miss?”

“Frigging hell, I’m being totally selfish and dis respectful over the loss of your grandfather. I’m sorry, okay?”

Her red eyes glanced at Deveron then back to mine. “I’ve a confession to make.”

I gave her my most intriguing look of suspicion. “It’s bit late for confessions all of a sudden.”

“Deveron isn’t my Grandfather.”

I frowned. I’d been suckered again. “You’re a bag of twisted laughs, Shayna!”

“It’s the truth.”

“He was convinced you were. Frigging hell, you had us both fooled.”

“It takes years of practice to lie through your teeth.”

“I totally agree. I’ve been practicing the art for years but you’ll always beat me hands down.”

“I’m ashamed to admit we used Deveron to set up an elaborate ploy to get me inside the Irish organizations that were receiving weapons from unknown gunrunners. Using Deveron was necessary to convince the right people of my allegiance to the Irish problems, to dispense of any suspicion towards me. It wasn’t easy to convince paranoid terrorists of my loyalty. Mind you, when Deveron confessed to me his involvement in the IRA in his youth, it came as quite a shock. And then you appeared and the whole operation exploded in my face. My two years of lies, deceit and hanging about with a bunch of fanatical hand shaggers, in an attempt to expose the British connection, went right out of the window. The moment you emerged into the affray with your glorified metal detector, every goddamn thing stopped. We’d have had McClusky. He’d have talked like a canary; pointed us in the right direction towards Morgan and his merry Russian gangsters.”

“There’s no guarantee he would have talked.”

“To save his own skin he would have. It was treason he was committing. Bet you didn’t know this ship is bulging with weaponry destined for numerous Irish groups?”

“Frigging hell, Shayna, you’re a real dark horse with a carrot shoved up your arse instead of in front of your nose. The only sense I can make of your existence is you’re on the good side of the law masquerading as a murdering misfit. And as for damaging your mission, if you don’t mind, I’ve given you whom I suspect are your devious middlemen in Morgan and Hamer, served up on a plate. Just because you end up in the same cell as me, don’t be in such a hurry to discredit me.”

“Served up without the trimmings, I’m afraid. I haven’t proven a god damn thing yet, and it’s not looking good for us.”

“You, Yanks, are always so ungrateful.”

“Ungrateful Canadian, if you don’t mind. At least have the right nationality.”

“Whatever! So what was Harris Morgan’s involvement on Canadian territory that warranted your elaborate cloak and dagger tactics?”

“Besides gun running, there’s the cold blooded murder of two Canadian police officers.”

“It goes deeper then? We were both on a mission of revenge.”

“That we were, Shackleton.”

“You never suspected Morgan’s involvement before now?”

“Not in the beginning. What we had was firsthand knowledge that we were looking for somebody operating behind the protection of the Ministry of Defence in London. We had no idea of the persons rank, position, authority or department. We’d nothing. No jack shit! It could have been even the British Prime Minister for all we knew. The best way to find the seller was to follow the buyers.”

“So you latched onto Big Nose?”

Shayna frowned. “Big Nose?” She suddenly clicked who I meant. “Jennings, you’re referring to; the jumped-up Brigadier of the EFF-Eire’s Freedom Fighters. Forget them, they’re history. They were all arrested two days ago for inciting acts of terrorism.”

“What a pity. I intended to pay them a visit before I left Ireland. Go on.”

“We knew the Russian Mafia was smuggling weapons into Canada and then into America. From there our intelligence suspected the receivers of those weapons had a British connection and the possible involvement of Whitehall officials. Naturally we couldn’t cause a stink with the British government because we didn’t know who we could trust. And we didn’t have sufficient evidence to pass on to British Intelligence. We only needed a name and we would have been up and running.

“The gunrunners were cunning in their use of varied routes; most were hard to follow and we failed on numerous occasions to catch them. Gathered intelligence directed us to the shores of Ireland and the weapons were destined for the developing terrorist groups who were stockpiling, hence Jennings and his gang. Along the way we suffered casualties, losing two fine and devoted policemen. Two wasted lives. There was a tremendous strain on manpower after that; facilities stretched beyond control. It was decided that we needed to send in a lone operative to infiltrate one of the Irish factions and then work upwards along the chain to reach the top men. I volunteered.”

“You were taking a big risk without backup. There’s been many undercover operatives murdered in the past who were better qualified than you. You lot just don’t know your limitations.”

“I knew the two police officers that were killed personally. Wild horses wouldn’t have stopped me volunteering.”

“Commendable of you,” I said. “Obviously you’re not married just dispensable?”

“I wasn’t expecting a medal. Fortunately we stumbled across Dillon Deveron. He was in the US searching for lost relatives living there. He was the perfect choice to give me the cover I required to infiltrate a faction within Ireland. Everything was going to plan and I was confident we were closing in on the gunrunning ring leaders. And then Deveron heard about you and the Spitfire and there was no stopping him. He told me everything he had done during the war and that he wanted to put things right. He was extremely repentant.”