11

Moments after he knocked, the door swung open.
“It’s so good to see you again, Mr. McGuire,” John Rainey said as Sean walked through the doorway. “The higher-ups have made a decision. Your being here this evening will give us a chance to share it with you.”
The smile on Rainey’s face belied the tone of his voice.
This bastard’s not wasting any time, Sean thought.
“Hold on a bit, Rainey,” Rafferty said. “Give the lad a chance to take his bloody coat off. There’s no rush here. We can have a pint and discuss business properly, if you don’t mind.”
Michael Rich and Bridgette Toomey looked over to Rafferty and nodded in agreement. There was little doubt among them as to who would be running the gathering.
“Hello, Sean,” Bridgette said. “It’s good to see you. I’m happy you could come.”
Her greeting sounded genuine. Michael Rich remained quiet. Sean found nothing to read in his face.
Before long, the meeting turned to the business at hand. Mick Rafferty took charge and relayed what they expected.
“You’ve a bit of time, Sean, but we want you to start arranging for us to get past the wire. You navy chaps are the ones manning the gate, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Sean replied. “It’s who happens to have duty whenever we tie up that gets the gate. We rarely know who it’s going to be.”
“Armed?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve some idea as to how you fellows work, Sean. Can you arrange it so that you’ve got duty the night we need you?”
“Maybe,” Sean said. “It’s not a job too many people like.”
“Good. We’ll make it look like you put up a fight trying to stop us.”
“How much time have I got to arrange this?” Sean asked.
“It will be the trip after this one,” Rafferty replied. “Check everything out when you get there the next time, and you can let us know when you come back. We’ll arrange the rest and coordinate the times. It will be a simple thing if you do your part, and no one will be able to tie you to it.”

The voyage back to Ireland was rough for Sean. The submarine performed well, with training dives and drills going smoothly, but again the web he found himself in filled him with anger and confusion. He accepted that Rafferty’s people were never going to leave him alone. Even if by some miraculous turn of events this particular mission they’d concocted fell through, he knew too much. They had him, and no one would ever believe he wasn’t part of their twisted world. He was Irish, so it was expected.
Rain, welcomed by the sailors on deck, began falling shortly after the boat started its passage up the river toward Derry. They welcomed it, hoping its presence lessened the chance of the occasional sniper hidden within the lush foliage lining the riverbank.
After they tied the vessel alongside the pier, the deck crew dismissed to prepare for port watches.

11

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