The Jake Fonko Series: Books 1 - 3

by B. Hesse Pflingger

  “Same to you, Jake.”

  Grotesqcu left the coffee shop. I finished my coffee and rolls, the best food I’d had in days. Should I drop a dime on him? They already had some inkling about him. I couldn’t tell them where to find him, so what would be the point? I’d give it some thought. I’d just returned to my room when the phone rang. This time it was Roisin. “Jake, I’m wonderin’ if you might spare me a wee bit of your time this fine day?”

  “I’m a little pressed. What do you have in mind?”

  “Could you be meetin’ me at the pub where we all went after Saturday’s football? Say in about an hour?” I could.

  After I cradled the phone I got into the Mini and drove to Barclays Bank. I withdrew the remaining balance and closed my account. That left just enough time to make my appointment at the pub in Lisburn. Inside I found not Roisin waiting, but Brennan McCampbell and his mates from the Ulster Regular Guerillas. I greeted them and said, “Roisin asked me to meet her here. Has she come in yet?”

  “She might not be joinin’ us,” said Brennan, as the others closed in and surrounded me. “The fact is, she called you on our behalf. My thinkin’ was that you’d be more likely to come to see her, than to see us. But it’s us you need to be talkin’ to right now. Would you be so kind as to accompany us to the room in the back?”

  Short of knocking four large, athletic men over and running for it, there wasn’t much choice, so I went with them down the corridor and into the room, and we all took seats at the table. “Here’s the thing, Jake,” said Brennan. “You see, we have sources. Sources in many places. For example, sources in the Maze. Whose hospitality you recently enjoyed. From what our sources told us, you are in a position to be of great help to us.”

  “I don’t see how. What did they tell you?”

  “It seems that you performed the amazing feat of infiltrating a Republican militia cell, specifically the PING. This none of those in the URG or other Loyalist groups have been able to do, or do for long until found out, and woe betide them when that happened.”

  “I met a few such people, that’s so. But what of it?”

  “You see, we always find ourselves one step behind them, never catchin’ up. But with you on the inside you could divulge their plans to us, and we’d be in a better position to meet them.”

  “But I know nothing of their plans. I just happened to stumble into that group one day in a pub.”

  “Accordin’ to our sources at the Maze, you’re an American spook, and you’re privy to American money arrivin’ to serve as payment for a mass of Russian arms to be delivered upon receipt of said money.”

  ‘What you said matches the rumors I’ve heard.”

  “Ah, but you being in with the PING, you could be findin’ out more of a factual nature and passin’ it along, could you not?”

  “Look. I came to Belfast as an employee of John DeLorean, at the car factory. My job there is over. Tomorrow I’m going to get on a plane and fly home to America. I have no stake in your politics here.”

  “Maybe so, and maybe not. Are you familiar with how snitches are dealt with by the Republican groups? And do you know that they treat infiltrators even harsher? You bein’ an infiltrator, I’d think you’d have a stake in that. Now, what would be the likelihood of your getting safely on that plane tomorrow were a word be dropped to parties of the Republican persuasion concernin’ your identity, your infiltration and your current location?”

  A cogent point. “So, what am I supposed to do, then?”

  “Why, now that’s soundin’ more agreeable. Just some idea of their plans, that we can use, that’s all. And, should you take into mind to get on that plane without our blessin’, we might have sources in the transport services, you never can tell. Now, I want to show you something,” he added.

  There was another door in the room, which he opened with a key. It was a storage closet. He flicked on a light to reveal an arsenal of assault rifles and grenade launchers, more than a match for what PING stowed in their basement. “We have the wherewithal, you see, and we’ve taken a little target practice out in the woods. We can handle the weapons. But we’re lackin’ the proper leadership for combat. For example, you bein’ a former commando, maybe you could tell me somethin’ about setting up an ambush.”

  “That depends on the specifics of the situation and the terrain, of course. But the basics are pretty much standard,” I said. “You pick a spot that gives your group good cover and concealment and a clear field of fire. You make sure you have a secure exit route, because you don’t to get caught up in a firefight. You want the enemy to come into range without suspecting anything, and you want to make sure there’s no cover for him close by. When he gets in position you open up with everything, and you start with the men closest to cover. Hit hard and fast and get out. That’s about it.”

  “There, you see, that’s right useful information, Jake,” Brennan said. “I knew you could be helpful to us. Just watchin’ you on the football field, I could tell you had character.”

  So I found myself at six that evening dropping in at the Duke’s Dalliance. “Have you seen anything of people in PING?” I asked the bartender as he served my half and half.

  “I know of no such people or institution,” he assured me. “It is said, however, that a parcel has been delivered to the attention of a Mr. Jack McCool, and that he would know where to seek it.”

  I thanked him. Finished my beer. Left a big tip on the bar. Strolled out in the direction of the safe house. The streets were pretty much empty, and no tail in prospect, so I slipped up the alleyway to the cellar door. The group was assembled there and welcomed me in. The bomb plot having fallen through, Saoirse had returned to grunge fashions, a pity. Cleaned up, she was a right proper bird.

  “They had you in the Maze, then, Jack?” asked Seamus.

  “They did, but seein’ as how they had nothin’ on which to hold me, they had to set me free. Sorry about the van. The bastards detonated it just as I arrived on the scene. It’s a miracle I wasn’t killed by the blast, for it felled me like God’s own fist. As I lay there dead to the world they bundled me into a vehicle and transported me to the Maze. Held me in a solitary cell. Used every trick in the book and a few others besides, but it will take more than a gang of RUC ruffians to make a peacher of Jack McCool. Whatever you say, say nothin’, that’s the ticket. Now, what’s this I hear about a parcel?”

  “It came while you was locked up,” said Clancy. “No address or indication of origin, but that’s to be expected. Parties unknown rapped on the door with a proper signal, and when we opened it, there it was. We figured it had to do with you. Fetch it here, Kelly.” Kelly went to a cupboard and brought out a worn satchel bag.

  “What are the contents, then?” I asked.

  “Money,” said Casey. “We counted it. It’s the $32,000 we was expectin’ from America.”

  “And it was left by your door by parties unknown?” I asked.

  “It’s the way things are done,” said Seamus. “Keeps us all from incriminatin’ others. What you don’t know, and all that. Rest assured, them’s as brought it are monitorin’ it and us closely. We don’t do right by it, we’ll pay the price.”

  Nothing to do but stay with the gag. “Let me see it,” I said. I opened it to find bundles of well-circulated US currency banded by denomination. I pulled them out and lined them up on the bed. For show I riffled through several and made a point of making a mental tally. Could be $32,000, why not? “You’ve done well. It’s all here,” I announced. “Sometimes some goes missin’ in transit, if you catch my drift. But this lot balances to the penny. The Russian takes US dollars, does he? Or must we be convertin’ it to pounds?”

  “He’s not fussy,” said Casey. “He fancies greenback as well as anything.”

  “Well, now that it’s arrived, I can complete my mission here,” I said. “And seein’ as how you prov
ed your mettle on Friday night—not your fault luck turned against us—I’ll disclose the mission I journeyed all the way from America to accomplish. When we have weapons shipment in hand, I aim to free Mairead.”

  “Free Mairead? From Armagh Gaol?” gasped Seamus. The others looked stunned. Some action? A prison break? Wow! Saoirse looked more than a little miffed, however.

  “Sure, from Armagh,” I said. “It’s been done before. We’ll do it once again. How much I’ve been missin’ Mairead, words fail me to adequately express. Ten long years it’s been since last I felt her sweet touch. So you see I’ve not been sittin’ idle. I’ve been assemblin’ a team for the raid with other stout lads from over yonder what are familiar with County Armagh. When the new shipment is in our hands, we’ll rally the troops, plan the action, do a bit of rehearsin’, and out she’ll fly free as a bird once again. The Russian tells me delivery of his shipment waits on delivery of this money. Now we have it. Therefore, we’d best deliver it. Have the time and place been set?”

  “The farm house is the usual venue for deliveries with the Russian. The time is as we set it. What would you advise?”

  What I’d advise to myself was, get the hell out of this woebegone country ASAP. Therefore the sooner, the better. “How about early tomorrow morning? Get the replenishments to the units quickly, that’s the idea. Say 5:30? Well before sun up, but not a suspicious time to be out on the road?”

  “I’ll contact him,” said Casey. “He’s been pressurin’ us for the money. I’m sure tomorrow morn will be agreeable to him.

  “Good, good,” I said. “I’ll leave it to you lads to make the arrangements. Do the usual. We’ll need two vehicles, of course. I’ve matters to attend to, but I’ll be here in the morning, in plenty of time. Be lively, now.” I turned to go.

  But as I reached the stairs, Saoirse hustled up to me. “Jack, what’s goin’ on, surely?” she breathed. “Mairead’s languishin’ in gaol, and I’m right here, and you fooked me passionately. That counts for nothin’? “

  “The sweetest words cannot adequately express what it means to me, but duty and the cause counts for more, and the order to free Mairead came from higher up. It’s nothin’ but a business matter, strictly. Passion has naught to do with it. More than that I cannot say.” I held her close and patted her back. “Your time will come soon,” I assured her. “You proved your measure by your willingness to bomb Mrs. T. Me and the boys will conclude the present business tomorrow, best you leave that to us.”

  “I’m not even included in the mornin’s affair?” Saoirse asked indignantly. “You’re thinkin’ I’m not up to it? I’d be proud to fight by your side. I can handle an Armalite as well as them.”

  “As well or better, I’m sure, but we’re only bagmen tomorrow. It’s not a task worthy of your abilities.” I gave her a fond kiss and left, not looking back. A nice girl like that, lusting for mayhem, as bloodthirsty as the rest? Sure and it’s a strange world! Best not linger, get out while the getting’s good lest loose lips sink my ship. I left the cellar, made sure no one followed me, and returned to where I’d parked the Mini. Now what?

  First I found a public phone and called the number George had given me. I said the code word, got the right response. “The PING group is going to make a delivery of money to a KGB agent 5:30 tomorrow morning.” I didn’t know an address for the farmhouse, but I gave them general directions. Okay, one down.

  Brennan McCampbell hadn’t given me a contact number, but I figured I could reach him through the pub in Lisburn. I drove over and asked after him, and he showed up within fifteen minutes. I told him about the delivery, the time and the approximate location.

  “And you know the route they’ll take, Jake? Because we’ll be wantin’ you along with us. You can help us set up the ambush, and your experience with weaponry will benefit us greatly.”

  “I can give you an idea where to set up, but you can’t expect me to be part of a firefight.”

  “But that’s exactly what we do expect, Jake. Otherwise you’ll be tagged as an infiltrator, and we’ll truss you up and put you somewhere they can find you. You say the transaction will take place at 5:30? You’ll meet us in back of here at 4:30 to lead the way. That should give us time to get in position.”

  So, the situation I faced: (1) For the PING I would carry a satchel containing $32,000 donated by Boston Irishmen supposedly for worthy and humane causes, or maybe not. I was to deliver it to a Russian KGB agent in payment for a smuggled shipment of Semtex, Czech RPGs, AK-47s and ammo. Which would be used by Irish Republican paramilitary groups for purposes of terror, harassment and intimidation. (2) A Protestant paramilitary group, the URG, was counting on me to set up an ambush of the PING contingent and lead the firefight. If I didn’t, they would expose me to all and sundry as an infiltrator. And (3) the Royal Ulster Constabulary, MI5 and/or MI6 were gearing up to ride in with guns blazing. Had I overlooked anything? Airstrikes? Volcanic eruptions? Another round of potato blight?

  All three groups were heavily armed, had scores to settle and were anxious to mix it up.

  Jake Fonko and the satchel of money would be the focus of attention.

  And if I made it alive out of that shitstorm of flying lead, I’d slink home with nothing to show for my travails.

  I had cab fare, and I spotted an exit door. There was only one thing to do.

  5 | The Catch

  The hand-off was scheduled for 0530 at the farmhouse, about ten minutes’ drive from the PING Twinbrook hidey-hole. I packed my kit, except the SIG and the suit and tie I’d change into, and stowed my suitcase and backpack in the Mini. At 4:30 a.m, wearing my rough street clothes, I checked out of the Conway Hotel—when I didn’t show for the URG and they came looking for me, they wouldn’t find me there. I drove into the DeLorean factory by the main gate and parked the Mini alongside the office building. The night security man let me in. I carried my business clothes into my office, came back and told him there were matters I had to see to elsewhere in the plant, but that I’d be back shortly and then I had some urgent business to take care of in Belfast. The SIG weighted down the inside pocket of my coat.

  A fog enveloped the land, visibility less than fifty yards. A deal killer? More likely it would be a blessing. I ambled across the grounds to the Catholic gates. Though the plant was shutting down as a production facility, security guards still manned the gates and kept watch on the perimeter, protecting the property. I instructed the guards I’d be returning shortly in a car, and that they should let me through but should prevent any cars from following me. They knew me as one of DeLorean’s American people, and the man in charge of the outer gate assured me he was on it. I cautioned him that the people behind me might be armed and dangerous. “People armed and dangerous are no rarity in these parts,” he said. “We’ve seen it all before. It took an entire mob to breach this gate on account of Bobby Sands. One car this mornin’ is nothin’ much.”

  My plan was simple. I’d take the money in the lead car. I’d ditch the others before we cleared Twinbrook, disappear into the fog and return to the plant, the guards stopping the others at the gate if they tried to follow. I’d then change into my business clothes and calmly head for the airport in the Mini, satchel of money safely beside me. Hop an early plane out of town and I’d be safely away from that snakepit. I’m all right, Jack!

  The walk to the PING safe house took a few minutes. The men were assembled in the basement and eager for action when I rapped on the cellar door. They’d dressed faux-army, with rolled-up black ski masks pulled down over their ears. Well, why not? I looked them over carefully, a military inspection. “Good, good,” I assured them. “ You’re lookin’ fit, you’re lookin’ sharp. We’re ready. What, Saoirse isn’t amongst you?”

  “She told us she was havin’ women’s problems and didn’t think her presence would benefit the mission.”

  “Jealous of Mairead is her woman’s pr
oblem, I’m thinkin’,” snickered Seamus.

  “Now, let’s have none of that kind of demeanin’ talk about others in the unit,” I admonished. “The fact of the matter is, we’ll be freein’ Mairead not for romantic notions, but for special missions, as those above me want to use her fiery zeal to good effect. Missions of a sort for which Saoirse has not the proper aptitude, as is evident this mornin’. Time to get on with it. Where’s the satchel, then?” Seamus fetched it and handed it to me. “Now, here’s the procedure. I’ll be leadin’ the way to the farmhouse, and you lot follow at a discreet distance, on the lookout for any trouble and guardin’ against over-takers. Anything goes amiss, you fly up beside me and do the necessary.” Rifles and pistols in hand and extra clips in their jackets, they were primed to perform the necessary with gusto, whatever it might be. “In the event we get separated, you speed straightaway to the farmhouse like the Devil’s at your backs, approach with caution and we’ll reassemble there.”

  They nodded agreement. I checked my watch. “It bein’ a ten minute drive, and we’ve ten minutes, let’s be off. Seamus, pass me that Kalashnikov, if you would. And an extra clip. I’m not anticipatin’ any trouble, but should we be interfered with, I’ll lead the charge.” Perish the thought that I’d be using it; for show only.

  “We’ll do for you better than that,” piped up Seamus. “I’m thinkin’ I’ll accompany you ridin’ shotgun, as they say in your Western movies.”

  Oops. “I appreciate the offer,” I said, “but there’s no need to trouble yourself. Naught will go wrong, of that I’m certain.”

  “It’s no trouble at all,” Casey assured me. “Not that we lack trust in you, Jack, but that money’s our responsibility, and should ill befall it we’d suffer consequences. As you said yourself, sometimes some goes missin’ in transit. Seamus’s presence will forestall any danger of that.”

  “Aye, you’re right, you can’t be too careful,” I said. Goddammit to hell, I thought. A military rule of thumb holds that all plans go out the window when combat commences. Even before a shot was fired, Plan A swirled down the loo. Okay, Plan B? Shoot Seamus, shove his body out onto the roadside and make a break for it? And after a murder a running gun battle through the pre-dawn streets of Belfast in a stolen car? I could be arrested for that. Plan C better reveal itself to me in a hurry. “We’ve no time to waste then,” I said. “If all’s in order, let’s get to the cars and be off. For Mairead,” I added solemnly.