‘Anyway, how do you intend to play it at the next venue?’ Paul asked.
‘We need to get in first, before the hoo-hah goes up at the end again. And, it’ll spoil his “historic moment”. It just depends if you can get us there before a fully equipped police escort?’
‘Better believe it; anyway it’s not that far.’
Christine glanced at Paul as he concentrated on throwing the car’s occupants from side to side with what was obviously an involuntary smirk on his face. Now she was sure he was enjoying himself.
Chapter Sixty-One
A crowd had been gathering for a while now, Quintel noticed. It was up to about fifty he reckoned and was being held back by a cordon of police where the driveway to the barracks’ main entrance met the pavement which abutted the road. A lectern had been set on the pavement and a second one was being set up near to the sentry at the entrance to the compound. ‘A couple of those fuckers look like the press,’ Quintel said as he glanced at his watch; 11.30 am.
‘Don’t be worrying about that, you’ll be through before they know what’s hit them,’ McKnowle said.
‘How do you know where the SAS escort to - whoever the fuck will be talking - will be? I mean I know an escort is an escort, but we’ve only got one crack at this, it could all become a bit fluid,’ Quintel said.
McKnowle turned to face him with a puzzled look on his face, which seemed a bit spooky as the sun came out at that very moment and threw a spotlight on his face, giving it a ghoul-like quality.
‘What Sass escort yous on about?’
‘Well, I just assumed the target was ex-SAS.’
‘And why would you be thinking that, Jackie-boy?’ McKnowle said, his voice with a sharp edge, and his countenance taking on an even harsher look.
‘It was just with you saying the target had been at the scene where you got shot, all those years ago, that’s all,’ Quintel quickly said, and noticed the look on McKnowle’s face ease a little.
‘Arh, I did say that, didn’t I?’
‘Look no offence, but I’m going to need to know which fucker to throw the grenade at?’
‘So you arh. Fair enough,’ Mcknowle said before glancing at his own watch. ‘The target isn’t one of those Sass twats, though I’d love it to be, but there is no way of ever knowing who they were. I’ve had to settle with Reedly and Carstair instead.’
Quintel still didn’t quite understand the relevance of Reedly and Carstair; he hadn’t needed to, but was now intrigued. McKnowle clearly saw this and explained. He told Quintel all about the British strategy of justifying the security forces’ “murders” of the IRA’s volunteers up until the late nineties. How Carstair had been the government minister who brought in the policy and how Reedly had been the detective inspector charged with executing it. Quintel now understood his hatred of them.
‘I spent twenty years in that hell-like state, while those two bastards covered up the Sass’s actions. I had thought about asking you to kidnap them first so I could try to torture the information out of them, but I realised not even they would have known the Sass’s true identity. It would have been all that “Soldier A and Soldier B” bollocks.’
‘So who are we looking at today?’
‘I telt you properly afterwards, no offence, Jackie-boy, but what I can telt you is that the target was the ASU commander on the night I was ambushed and left for worse than dead.’
Quintel hadn’t seen that coming. Now he understood why McKnowle couldn’t use one of his old terrorist killers to do these jobs. There would have been no problem with Reedly and Carstair, but a fellow member of the IRA? And an active service unit commander to boot. ‘Forgive me, Bobby, I hope you don’t mind me using your first name?’ Quintel said.
‘Only in private, but no worries.’
Though Quintel now knew why McKnowle had gone outside on this job, and why Reedly and Carstair had been targets, he still didn’t know why the ASU commander was, so he asked, ‘Is it because he didn’t want to do all of the man’s family, and left you on your own after the ambush went down?’
‘Either of those reasons in themselves would be justification enough, Jackie-boy, but it runs far deeper than that, so it does,’ McKnowle started, and then opened up again like he had done at the bar the previous night. He went on to explain that he was actually a very, very senior member of the IRA’s ruling Army Council. He didn’t say he was at the top, but Quintel wondered if he had been. McKnowle told him of his hard-line views and that he would never have approved with the whole peace process that the paramilitaries on all sides eventually agreed to with the Brits. As far as McKnowle was concerned the war was still on now that he was free from his medical incarceration.
‘I’m taking care of my own business and then I’ll start the war again,’ he said.
‘So why the ASU commander?’ Quintel asked again.
‘After he legged it and I was carted away, he wheedled his way into the Army Council and eventually took over as a major influence within it. Something that would never had happened if I’d still been on my feet. The arrogant twat used to visit me in hospital to tell me how well the peace discussions were going. He was freeking pleased with himself. Thought I would be too. I had to just lie there and listen to it.’
No wonder McKnowle was such an angry man, Quintel thought, so he knew to go lightly now. ‘Maybe he thought you would have approved?’ Quintel offered.
‘Approved, approved,’ McKnowle said, adding, ‘that bastard knew. He was taunting me, taking the piss, rubbing in the seniority he had gained. If I’m to restart the armed struggle, he’d have to die anyway; it just so happens that it’s also personal.’
Quintel glanced out of the window and noted more activity building up outside. McKnowle also turned to face the window, before adding, ‘It doesn’t look like it’ll be long nar, best you check the kit.’
Chapter Sixty-Two
Vinnie was getting tired of aimlessly driving around looking for any sign of the old Nissan. He knew that the part- registered number had been logged into the ANPR – automatic number plate recognition – system, but with it only being a partial, it would be hit and miss whether a roadside or vehicle born camera would pick it up. In fact, the more he learnt about Quintel, the more convinced he was that he’d have ditched the motor by now. Even if he hadn’t initially been aware that he’d been clocked in it in Blackpool, that bent bastard Blister would no doubt have made sure afterwards. He’d also taken a ride to Blister’s address, which was also in the north of Preston, but made sure he didn’t get too close. He spotted a surveillance vehicle parked up near the house keeping watch, so veered off before he passed the address. He’d not heard from Harry since he’d left the nick, which must mean no good news. He eventually pulled up into a small car park opposite Preston North End Football Club’s Deepdale ground on the one side and a huge inner urban park called Moor Park on the other. He noticed that it was past 11.30 am as his phone rang. Harry.
‘Hi Harry, is the line on?’
‘Unfortunately not yet, and to make matters worse, Blister’s turned his phone off.’
Brilliant, Vinnie thought, the phone they really needed intercepted – Quintel’s - was turned on, but with no interception, whereas Blister’s was being intercepted but he’d turned it off. ‘Is the cell-citing still active?’ he asked.
‘That much we still have, and according to the last update a few minutes ago the handset is still somewhere in north Preston. But the reason I’m ringing is that I’ve just spoken to a local uniform superintendent who seemed harassed because of a last minute security issue he’d been given.’
‘What kind of issue?’ Vinnie asked.
‘He says some ex-IRA terrorist is due to make a speech set up at short notice; or short notice to the cops in Preston, anyway.’
‘Whereabouts?’
‘Very near to where you were headed. Outside Fulwood Army Barracks.’
‘Why, is he just trying to wind up the military?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘The uniform super wouldn’t tell me who it is, which is fair enough from his point of view,’ Harry said. Always the diplomat, Vinnie thought, he’d have taken a more brutish approach.
‘But I’m hoping Major Crompton will surely know, and then we can do some research.’
‘What about Darlington?’ Vinnie asked.
‘On voicemail, probably in a meeting, and I daren’t go through his staff office; we don’t know whether Blister was working alone or not.’
‘Any news on that slime ball? I’d love to have five minutes alone with him after what he’s tried to do to Christine.’
‘I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that Inspector, but no, to answer your question, but he’s got to return home sometime. Anyway, for now can you keep the area around the barracks warm?’
Vinnie said that he would and ended the call before firing up the Volvo engine. He also noticed that the sun had come from behind the clouds at last.
*
‘There the fucker is. It’s been a while since I saw that ugly face peering over me with his rancid breath, but that’s him so it is,’ McKnowle said.
Quintel took a long look at the man as he got out of a plain car, and was relieved to see the marked police escort vehicles all sod off as soon as they’d dropped him. He started to head up the driveway to the podium near the gatehouse as McKnowle had said he would. This guy certainly had some pretty sharp intel. Quintel studied him and wasn’t particularly impressed by the man’s demeanour, and voiced as much.
‘Don’t be conned by physical appearances alone, he’s been a bad man in his time, before he turned into the traitor that he now is,’ McKnowle said, adding, ‘some of the meanest Sass I’ve ever come across were the meekest looking; not all muscles and noise like the Paras and the Marines. Just mean, dirty, sneaky bastards, and ASU commanders were the same.’
Quintel noticed that their target was wearing a light grey summer suit, which also helped mark him out from the crowd. ‘Ok,’ he said, ‘I’ll not mistake him, all five foot four of him, so I’ll head to the motor, bell me when we’re ready.’
‘I telt yous what, Jackie-boy, I know I said I’d keep away, but nar I’ve set eyes on the twat, I’ll come with yous.’
Quintel wasn’t entirely surprised by this; in fact it gave him an idea. It would mean parking on the main road to get a long distant view of when their man made his way to the podium by the pavement, but it would greatly increase their chances of success. ‘Ok, he said, and then threw the car keys at McKnowle, and added, ‘You drive and I’ll throw the grenade. But we’d better get moving, it looks like he’s about to start the first part of his address.’
Chapter Sixty-Three
Vinnie drove past the Barracks twice, once from each direction. He had approached the Y shaped junction from the top right of the Y. The Barracks themselves were set back on a bend with a large grass verge separating the street from the perimeter road. Vinnie could see a large crowd of sixty or more being held back by a police cordon on the wide pavement, next to a podium set up by the entrance road to the barracks. On his second drive past he saw a second lectern set up on the entrance road to the Barracks by the sentry post. He didn’t know if the ex-IRA terrorist had permission to do his address there or not, but guessed he had by the bored look on the sentry’s face. He turned right at the junction and headed back towards the football ground where he’d turn around and try and find somewhere to park. His phone rang, so he pulled over. It was Harry.
‘I’ve just had Darlington on and Major Crompton. This must be it. The ex-terrorist is thought to have been on a job years ago in west Belfast but escaped. Nothing could ever be proved, but when I dropped the name that Darlington gave me on Crompton he just said, “I’m unable to confirm or deny your speculation, but if he’s linked to your targets already attacked, then…,”’
‘What does that mean?’ Vinnie asked.
Ignoring his question, an excited Harry continued, ‘I’ve spoken to Reedly and run the name past him, too, and, bingo.’
‘In what way?’
‘He remembers a job where the security forces intercepted an ASU kill team. Two were killed, one escaped, and one was seriously injured. The two who were killed were adjudged to have been so by virtue of “Justifiable Homicide”.’
‘Good of Reedly to only remember this now.’
‘Well, that’s the thing; he’d discounted it as the injured terrorist – who incidentally was a very senior member of the Provisional IRA – never recovered from his injuries, he was left in a paralysed state known as Locked-in Syndrome. He apparently hated the man who is speaking today.’
‘Why?’
‘He took over his role and became a leading light in the peace process, and there’s more, much more.’
Vinnie could see the links now. Carstair and Reedly because of their adjudication – rightly so – that the terrorists who had died had been stopped about to commit murder. But more so with today’s speaker, a man hated by the man behind Quintel. ‘So who is the man behind all this?’
‘He’s called Bobby McKnowle,’ Harry said.
‘But why now after all these years, and who is doing it for him?’
‘McKnowle himself is behind it and the reason for “why now”? is easy. According to our intel team McKnowle recovered his muscular movement a couple of years ago and has since made a full recovery.’
‘Shit this is it,’ Vinnie said.
‘Can you get in close and look for any sign of Quintel and McKnowle; I’m guessing he was Quintel’s passenger the other day. I’ve got the three gunships that were behind the surveillance team making ground to join you.’
‘Ok, Harry, no probs. Has Quintel’s phone been lined-up yet?’
‘Imminent I’m told and Blister’s phone is still off, I’m afraid.’
‘Last question, Harry; who is the actual target then?’
‘You won’t believe it, Vinnie,’ Harry said, and then he told him.
*
Quintel picked up the grenade he’d bought the other day from the guy in Birmingham. He guessed either would do, but this one looked newer and Quintel hoped that would make it more effective. The lesser of the two – if indeed there was any difference – would be plenty explosive enough to destroy the Nissan afterwards. He kept the two hand guns under his coat until he was back in the car, and handed one to McKnowle who slipped it in his pocket before starting the engine.
McKnowle drove away from the Barracks before turning around and re-approaching. He pulled over fifty metres short as they took in the scene. The crowd was growing larger and their white-haired target in the light grey suit kept strutting up and down the driveway between the two podiums. He eventually settled at the one by the sentry, away from the crowd.
‘Typical of the arrogant bastard to say whatever the feckin ejiot has to say away from the crowd, and then to do a photo opportunity afterwards. Grandstanding bastard, so he is. We’ll wait until he’s started, all the attention will be on him then. You ready, Jackie-boy?’
Quintel looked at the grenade in his hand and looked up at their target, before saying, ’Don’t worry about me, just get me as close as you can.’
He was going to enjoy this.
Chapter Sixty-Four
By the time they were approaching the scene of McConachy’s main address, Christine was feeling decidedly car sick. ‘We should be the only press here, well, the only TV hopefully.’
‘Why’s that?’ Paul asked.
‘As no one was expecting him to drop any bombshells, most channels, or those who were bothered, thought they could get away with covering the first address only, and now thanks to your skill behind the wheel, they’ll all be playing catch up.’
‘Not lost it,’ Paul said, adding, ‘it looks like it’s not easy to park around here, I�
��ll drop you three and join you after I’ve ditched the motor.’
Five minutes later, Christine had managed to push her way to the front of the crowd. People naturally gave way to a camera crew coming through, apart from other camera crews that was, but they were the only ones here yet. She could see McConachy walking between two lecterns; one by the cordon by the road and a second one a little way down the driveway to the main entrance to the Barracks. She could only imagine why he’d picked Fulwood Barracks to make his grand speech. She watched as the silver-haired man in his light coloured suit seemed to settle by the lectern nearest the gatehouse. She also noticed he walked exaggeratedly straight. Probably trying to cover up his limp.
‘If he’s going to do it from there, then we will need to be closer,’ the soundgirl said.
‘Come on them,’ Christine answered, adding, ‘but do it slowly, like it’s pre-arranged.’
The three of them walked slowly up the short driveway to where McConachy was stood, clearly preparing to start his address. He only seemed to notice them as they drew to a halt a couple of feet away. He’d been engrossed in his notes or whatever he’d been reading.
‘Turning,’ Christine whispered to her crew, who both repeated the word.
‘Outside Fulwood Barracks, take one – Action,’ she said, facing the camera before turning back to face McConachy.
‘I’ll be doing press interviews by the roadway in a few minutes, if you can wait ‘till then,’ McConachy said.
‘Christine Jones, NWTV. Mr McConachy we have evidence that you, although appearing to be pro-power sharing with other political groups, have in fact behind the scenes been systematically removing any Protestant or pro-Unionist from public office.’
‘What the hell is this?’
‘In fact, you have replaced such senior figures, including within the police service, with Republican sympathisers in a secret plan to eventually usurp the British Government, isn’t that true?’
The Badge & the Pen Thrillers Page 52