Chapter 55
Chapter Fifty-Five
Earlier
TALLY
I stare daggers at the side of Black’s head from the back of a beat-up, sky-blue Skoda. The way he’s scuttling off like a cockroach instead of facing the O’Connors head-on is proof of the type of person he is.
Johnny drives like an old man. Given he’s hiding behind a disguise involving a beige windbreaker and a plaid flat cap, it’s fitting. Especially in light of the news of how many O’Connors are currently searching the streets.
Keeping my movements small, I test the bindings around my wrists first, and then my feet, but Johnny’s done a bang-up job tying me up. The rag in my mouth tastes disgusting, and I can literally feel myself getting sicker with each breath I take.
I don’t even try to keep track of where we are. I lie there, conserving energy and plotting Black’s demise.
The car rocks as one of them turns in their seat.
“Considering the heat, Black, this is the safest bet. There’s too many eyes on the streets.”
Black hums a noise, not answering for a while. Johnny doesn’t push him, perhaps sensing Black already feels like he’s being backed into a corner. The way people interact is as telling as a piece of evidence and can go a long way in getting a better understanding of a person’s motivation or drive.
I keep my face relaxed but slit my eyes open slightly so I can watch Black. He makes a call.
“What’s going on?” Black says.
I can’t discern the voice, but the response is efficient and methodical. I suspect Black’s talking to one of his contacts in the police department. Every now and then, he grunts but doesn’t interrupt the person until they run out of updates.
“No chatter around the church?”
The person starts speaking again, and without sitting up to check, I get a pretty good idea where we are. A ballsy move on Johnny’s, coming back to the scene of a crime, but by the sound of it, Black wants to be here too.
“And the problem with the network, how widespread is the issue?”
There’s no response, even when Black pulls his mobile phone down to check.
Johnny laughs, though when Black turns to stare at him, his laughter dries up. “Come on, Black, that was right hilarious. You asking about it and then it drops out. It’s been like that all day. On the way over, the radio said the network would be in and out till the tower gets fixed.”
Black looks out the window, his thinking practically loud enough to hear, then makes another call. It goes through. He’s speaking before the other person has the chance to say a word. “A series of fortunate events mean I’m here until the airport isn’t being as closely watched as it currently is.”
O’Leary’s distinctive voice is easy to make out. “I’ve already informed Paddy O’Connor I’m unwell. He’s aware Shamus will be taking Mass in my absence.”
“And nothing else has changed?”
“What do you want, Black? You want the glory of taking a man down? Or would you like to sit and watch our plan come together?” O’Leary condescends.
Black’s nostrils flare, and he rubs between his eyes, trying not to erupt.
His anger adds another level to his scent, and my throat starts to close over as a result.
Once he’s got a better grip on his emotions, he speaks, though his voice is still strained.
“I’d say it’s proper I’d be the one.” He’s whip quick in his response, his assertiveness rocking the tiny car we’re holed up in.
There’s a pause. It lasts so long, I wonder if the call’s dropped out again. Black’s increasing agitation suggests he’s listening to things I can’t hear, and then O’Leary’s oily laugh echoes through the handset before he asks, “What do you want in return?”
“Aisling.”
Another laugh. “That’s all you want?”
Black clenches his teeth. “Yes.”
“We’ll talk once we have the outcome we’ve been praying for,” O’Leary taunts. The bleeping sound of the call disconnecting is lost under a furious rumble from Black.
The noises and aggression inside the tiny car has me moving. It’d be a bad move not to stir awake.
Johnny’s a fucking whip, and before I even get to move an inch, he’s shoving my head down. “Stop! You’re feckin’ lucky you’re still alive. Don’t be pushing me right now.”
Fuck off , I scream inside my head. “So…so…sorry,” I whimper, throwing in a few shuddering inhales and scenting scared.
I might have flunked the scent manipulation class in the academy, but it doesn’t mean I didn’t pick up a few handy hints. I can only manage it for a second or two, but it’s enough and adds to the picture I’m a victim.
“We need to get off the street. Can I move us underground to the parking area?” Johnny says, keeping his hand on my head.
There’s a flurry of text messages hitting their phones.
“Goddamn it!” Black roars.
I flinch. And there’s no acting involved.
Johnny’s hand disappears as he checks his phone. “I’m getting texts from days ago. They're all out of time and date. Jesus wept. What a fucking mess. Glad we don’t be needing any help.” He laughs. “Imagine that, calling 999 and they show up days late.”
Black smirks at Johnny before he turns his focus back to his phone and works through the slew of missed messages.
He mutters under his breath and gets so worked up, Johnny has to crack the driver’s window down a couple of inches so we can all get some fresh air.
I whimper in places and tremble whenever Johnny glares at me.
My knees are cramping and my back aches from being in such a confined space, and I’m busting for the loo. Thankfully, after what feels like forever, Black flickers his fingers as a sign for Johnny to get moving.
After parking, Black arranges with Johnny which room I’m to be put in. Apparently, Olga has had enough and is returning to Russia. Catalina, is staying in her place, is on her way to get me ready for transport during Mass. Exciting times for everyone.
As soon as I’m standing, pins and needles make it impossible to walk. Johnny starts dragging me instead. Black takes one look at my struggle before rolling his eyes and leaving Johnny to deal with me alone.
The building attached to the cathedral is like an underground rabbit warren; lots of rooms going off rooms and hardly any natural light. Clearly, Johnny’s been here before because he doesn’t hesitate turning this way and that until he gets to the room Black was referring to.
The door slams behind us, and the dark of the room is like a black void until a light flickers on. His hand claps over my mouth, and he speaks into my ear, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I haven’t done a sweep of the room yet. Play dead till I’m finished.”
“Cut my hands free, at least,” I mouth back at him.
And his head tips like he’s thinking of leaving me tied up. A smile breaks over his face, and he winks, pulling a flick knife from his pocket and slicing through the rope with ease.
Holding his finger to his lips, he hands over the knife before pulling a run-of-the-mill scanning device from his backpack. By the time he’s done a full sweep of the room, I’ve cut myself free.
“Come here, give me a hug,” he teases.
I ignore him and race in the opposite direction, into the bathroom. Once done, I don’t waste time looking at myself and rejoin him in the main room. His eyebrow is curled up and he’s looking way too smug.
My glare has him laughing as he drops my backpack in front of me, helping me get out of the clothes I’m in.
We have to work together putting a hasty dressing over my side, and over my poor finger but then I’m dressed, ready for active service.
Both injuries will need some serious medical attention soon, but they’re so bad they’ll stop me doing my job.
“Come on, Murph, at least say you’re glad to see me.”
I gratefully accept the dark blue jeans and long-sleeve top he hands over. “What happened to your face?”
“What do you think happened?”
I can’t help the smile. It’s not because Johnny’s obviously taken a serious beating; it’s about knowing who did it.
“They got it bad for you,” he says, holding my boots upright so I can slide my feet right in them.
“ They are criminals.”
“Aren’t we all?” Johnny rolls his eyes up at me. “Technically, we’ve been breaking the law for years.”
“Can we just focus on what we’ve got coming up?”
“So, you’ve got it as bad for them, then?”
The look I give my handler should have him cowering, but it only makes him smile and laugh quietly. If we weren’t on a bust, he’d be belting out a laugh loud enough to hurt my ears.
Johnny’s been deep undercover in the world of the Irish for a long time. We actually met when I first arrived in London, where I was working as Nina. He’s done a hell of a job here, playing both sides with a finesse that I’ve always aspired to in my career.
I’m pretty sure falling in love with criminals in the Irish Mafia is one of the scenarios we’re told during our intensive training to avoid.
That’s a problem for tomorrow. Today, we need to deal with an infection that’s spread like a disease through the local Garda.
Black, the Fanning brothers, and Doyle are our sole objective. The only reason I am in Ireland.
The organized crime guys can come in and sort out the streets, if they’re brave enough. I won’t be sticking around for that; my heart couldn’t take it.
I bob down to rummage through the other things he brought for me.
Finding the pill bottle, I read the label explaining what pills are what and take them all.
Johnny has to help me maneuver my short tactical vest over my head, my side screaming.
In protest. And bless his heart, he doesn’t make mention or even act like he sees my struggle.
He knows how hard I’ve worked and how much I want to see the end of this case.
The same goes with him, though. His face is a disaster; his nose is going to need to be reset, and I’m no doctor, but I’d say his eye is fractured and at least a couple of his fingers are too.
There’s a piece of me that’s been missing, and I always assumed it was my badge. But as I slide it around my neck while I make sure my guns are ready to go, my police ID doesn’t fill the void like it used to.
For a long time, finding out what happened to Liam, and Oscar, was my only drive in life.
Everything shifted when Oscar all but threw the truth at me, in such a way to inflict as much pain as possible.
My motivation for doing this changed in that instant.
I went from wanting a sit down with Oscar, to wanting him held accountable and punished for what he did to Liam, and all the other children.
The lies and deceit he’d fooled me with would now be used as evidence against him. I’d see to it.
Johnny’s phone buzzes. “Cat’s here. And everyone else is in position.”
He swings the door open to let in our other undercover operative. She’s been working a completely different angle, and it’s important we keep her identity hidden, but it’s also all hands-on deck. She’ll be taking a support role, running comms for us.
Cat’s still wearing the same dress she wore back at the warehouse. Her hair is styled to perfection, but there’s a warmth, a camaraderie, in her eyes that wasn’t there before.
She pulls me into a hug. “I’m sorry.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe through her reminder. Honestly, I crammed the memories of what Fanning did into a box and buried it in a deep recess in my mind. Later, the psychologists will help me unpack and work through the trauma.
So many “later” problems.
“You’re my inspiration, Murph. I want to be you when I grow up,” Cat says softly, giving me another quick hug before she starts setting herself up in the corner.
She’s Catalina on this job. Catherine, or Cat, in real life. She’s years younger than Johnny and me, but working undercover is in her blood. She graduated with honors, and when we were assigned to each other in the professional mentoring program through the department, our friendship took off.
“I don’t even know what day it is,” I grumble to the both of them.
“Early Sunday morning now.”
“Shit. I’ve lost huge chunks of time.”
“We’re all feeling the strain,” Johnny says, leaving me with a high-calorie protein bar and a bottle of vitamin water so he can update and get ready himself. “Black’s making his move, but the O’Connors and their allies are out making theirs too.”
“The tech being down isn’t helping,” Cat says from behind me, the sound of her nails racing across her keyboard like rain on a tin roof.
“What is going on there?”
“We’ve got jammers in place getting ready for today, but on top of that, a couple of lads were off their heads after a rave and stole a tractor.
They don’t have much of a recollection of their actions, but either way, they managed some damage to Ireland’s entire network that’s potentially going to take weeks to fix.
” Cat’s talking while working, not looking up.
She slides over her updo for a one-ear headphone, which looks pretty funny, considering how she’s dressed. Before I get the chance to rib her over it, she flips the bird at me.
“Black’s on the move,” she says. And my stomach drops.
If he decides to come back to this room, we’ll move on to Plan B, C, or D. He’s not getting away, but the more evidence we have on him, particularly colluding with Oscar and O’Leary, the better.
“Keep your eyes on him.” Johnny takes the lead. It will be his call on what path we take and when.
The time passes surprisingly fast as we wait.
“Mass is starting.” Johnny breaks the silence, finally giving the command we’ve been waiting for.
“All the players are in position. They’ve split up.
We work as a team, disarming as we go. The Fanning brothers are first to the pickup vans.
Doyle goes once the other two are safely tucked in. Black is last.”
I go to tell him again to check, but he beats me.
“The National Office for Child Safety are in position. All roads are blocked, Murphy. Oscar won’t get away this time.
Neither will the other two. I know you know this, but I’ll repeat myself because you’re my favorite—our objective is different from everyone else here.
I need you focused so we can take down these dirty fucking cops. ”
I blow out a steadying and slow exhale.
“Do we need to go through it again?” His question isn’t targeted to me, but the longer we’ve been here, the more I think my role here has changed. “Tally, is your head in the game?”
He’d rip me a new one and pull me off the job if he didn’t think I was in the right headspace. But at the same time, he’s waiting for me to tell him if I’m in or if I need to be pulled. “I’m good.”
I know my head is in the game. I’m just not sure about my heart.