Irish Throwdown (What Happens In Vegas Book 4)

by Matt Lincoln

  “Military Border Liaison Investigative Services,” I responded without missing a beat. “And we weren’t harassing anyone. He’s the one who stopped us from coming in.”

  “Well, it’s still a free country, isn’t it?” O’Callaghan retorted. “Just because you’re feds doesn’t mean you can just waltz in wherever you like.”

  “You’re right,” Naomi replied in the voice she used when annoyed but wanted to remain diplomatic. “We can just speak out here, now that we’ve caught you.”

  “I don’t have anything to say,” he interrupted her. “I haven’t broken any laws, so there’s no reason I have to speak with you.”

  “Are you sure about that, Mr. O’Callaghan?” I asked. “Because we heard about a few things that happened here. A couple of assaults, one of which you were the victim of. Is that how you got that scar?”

  O’Callaghan’s eyes went wide, clearly shocked that we even knew about the attacks. That confirmed our suspicion that something had been done to cover them up. The boy’s face had gone a sickly white, and his eyes were darting frantically between O’Callaghan and me as he waited for one of us to speak.

  “That incident was handled internally,” he replied stoically. “And you aren’t welcome here.”

  “You can’t just make things disappear,” I snapped angrily. “Whatever you’re hiding, we’ll figure it out.”

  O’Callaghan glared down and at me, then stooped so that he was at my eye level.

  “You should be mindful of what you say, miss,” he sneered. “You have no idea what we’re capable of making disappear.”

  With that, he turned and grabbed the young man roughly by the arm before dragging him inside and slamming the door shut behind him.

  “Well,” Naomi huffed. “That didn’t go very well.”

  “No kidding.” I sighed as I stared at the door the two had disappeared through. “We know one thing for certain, though. They definitely have something to do with this. They wouldn’t be going through such lengths to hide this if they didn’t.”

  The thought stayed with me as we walked back to the car. There was more to learn here, but there wasn’t much that we could do without a warrant at the moment. I felt frustrated at the thought of having been stopped once again when we were so close to the truth.

  26

  Charlie

  I sighed as I fell back onto the same metal bench I’d fallen asleep on earlier that morning. It was a hard, unyielding, and uncomfortable piece of furniture, but it felt amazing to just sit and rest my legs right now.

  I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the cool metal as I went over the events of the day in my head again.

  I’d managed to make it back onto the platform and behind a wall just as the bomb went off. Thankfully, no one was injured in the explosion, though the station itself sustained some pretty severe damage. The tracks had been completely obliterated and, obviously, rendered useless, and a large chunk of the tunnel itself had collapsed, along with the roof above it. The roof of that tunnel was also the floor of the main lobby above it, which meant that had the station been open and full of people at the time, dozens of innocent people would have been seriously injured or killed.

  I opened my eyes and reached into the pocket of my jacket, feeling around for the thin slip of paper I’d tucked there earlier. I pulled it free with my fingers and held it up to my face to examine it again.

  Gallagher

  28 Fleet St, Dublin 2,

  DO2, H950

  The words were scrawled onto the small scrap of paper in quick, messy handwriting. I’d shown the address to Seamus, and he’d told me that it wasn’t far at all from here, but that actually heading there would have to wait. We needed to develop a plan and deal with the fallout of the bomb going off first.

  “Here,” Junior prompted as he suddenly plopped down next to me and held a hot beverage out to me. I could detect the strong scent of coffee coming from the cup, along with something else I couldn’t readily identify. Whatever it was had me feeling more awake just from smelling it.

  “Thanks.” I nodded gratefully as I took the proffered cup from him. The fatigue of not getting enough sleep for several days was starting to wear on me, and we still needed to search that address.

  I brought the cup up to my lips and nearly flinched as a taste that was both sweet and burning slid down my throat. I coughed in surprise and blinked tears out of my eyes, suddenly feeling extremely awake.

  “Traditional Irish Coffee,” Junior explained as he took a sip from his own cup. “It’s got whiskey in it. I figured we could both use something a bit stronger right now.”

  I cleared my throat as I got over the initial shock and took another sip. The drink was actually perfect, and while I usually wouldn’t drink on the job, I had a hunch the pick-me-up might actually benefit in this case.

  “You could have warned me,” I grumbled as I took another long sip of coffee.

  “Sorry,” Junior snickered in a way that made it evident that he wasn’t sorry about his little prank at all. “Has Seamus gotten back to you yet?”

  “No.” I sighed as I took a look around the police station. Everyone was rushing about, and there was frenetic energy buzzing throughout the entire building. It made sense, considering we’d narrowly avoided a major tragedy. The bomb had still gone off, though, which would no doubt cost the city a fortune in repairs. People were panicking as well, wondering if there would be more explosions. The police had a lot on their plates.

  “Why do you think he set the bomb off?” Junior frowned at me. “You said you saw a tablet with a camera, right? So someone was probably watching you.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded bitterly as I remembered what had happened. “I can’t stand thinking that we’re playing right into his hands. He was in control the entire time, and he made sure we knew that by setting the bomb off before our time limit was up.”

  “What’s the end game, though?” Junior asked. “He’s jerking us around all over Ireland, but what is he trying to accomplish?”

  “Maybe he’s just nuts,” I spat. “Some lunatic who gets off on causing destruction and toying with other people.” I couldn’t keep the anger out of my voice as I responded. I couldn’t figure it out either, and the idea of someone messing with people’s lives just for fun made my blood boil.

  “Agents, there you are,” a familiar rumbling voice called out, and I looked up to see Seamus approaching us. “I’ve been looking for you. We’re about ready to move out.”

  “Already?” I asked. “I thought you guys were all busy dealing with the aftermath of the explosion.”

  “Aye, we are,” Seamus nodded. “But we also don’t want to waste too much time, either. Whoever this Gallagher is, he probably knows about what’s happened already. Heck, he might be long gone by now, so we haven’t got time to lose.”

  “Right,” I agreed as I stood up from the bench. My legs ached in protest. I’d only been sitting for a few minutes, but Seamus was right that we should strike as soon as we could.

  “We’ve got a team of men mobilized and ready to go,” Seamus explained as he led us back outside and toward one of the cars. “We won’t be making the same mistake we made last time. We’ve got twenty officers coming with us to the scene, so we’ll be ready for whatever and whoever’s waiting for us.”

  I could feel myself getting pumped up at his words. We wouldn’t be caught off guard like we had been at the castle. We were heading in with the full force of the Irish Garda, and we wouldn’t be overtaken this time.

  The building we pulled up to was a bar not unlike the one Junior and I had visited the night prior. We pulled up to the bar at the same time as the other police cars, and within seconds, the entire street on both sides was lined with police vehicles.

  “This is the Garda Síochána,” a tinny voice announced through one of the police car’s speakers. “Please exit the building calmly and slowly, with your hands up.”

  For a long moment, nothing ha
ppened, but then the silence was abruptly broken by the sound of gunshots as a hail of bullets came raining through the windows of the pub and toward the police cars. I ducked my head down as I experienced an overwhelming sense of deja vu.

  “Alright!” Seamus yelled over the barrage of noise. “The Public Order Unit’s going to move in first with their riot shields. Once they’ve breached the door, then we’ll go inside. Good?”

  “Got it!” I yelled back as I waited for the opportunity to present itself. A few seconds later, the bullets slowed before finally tapering down to stop.

  “Go now!” Seamus roared as he threw open the driver-side door. I didn’t hesitate and followed suit before diving out of the car and sprinting toward the bar entrance. I could see the specialized police force standing just inside, holding their large black shields in front of them.

  Inside the bar, I could see several officers grappling with men, as well as a few bystanders who were cowering on the ground underneath tables and in corners.

  A bullet ricocheted off a table right next to me, and I looked up to find a man standing halfway up a staircase pointing a gun in my direction. I dove to the side as he fired again, and I lifted my own gun in one swift motion. I fired a single shot and struck him square in the chest. The man groaned with pain and fell to his knees before tumbling his way down the stairs.

  I rushed through the pandemonium and toward the base of the stairs just in time to catch a shadow moving out of sight near the top. I raced up without thinking twice. I couldn’t let whoever was up there get away.

  The door at the top of the stairs led to a hallway lined with numbered doors, and I realized this must be a block of apartment units above the bar. A man in a dark coat ran through the hallway, almost to the end.

  “Stop!” I shouted as I lifted my gun up in front of me. The man froze and turned to look over his shoulder. He had thick, curly red hair, and his face was stretched into a ferocious sneer.

  He twisted his body around sharply to shoot at me, and I jumped to the side before pulling the trigger of my own gun.

  I hissed as the bullet grazed my arm but was pleased to see that my own shot had landed as well, as the man grunted with pain and pressed his hand to his side. He glared at me, but rather than shoot me again, he turned and took off back down the hallway. I lifted my gun and fired again, but my shot missed and embedded itself into an ugly painting of flowers hung at the end of the hallway. He turned a corner and disappeared, and I raced to catch up to him.

  I turned the same corner and faltered when I realized it led to a steep staircase. The man was halfway up the top, and I barely managed to duck out of view before he fired two shots at me. I watched as the bullets struck the carpeted floor exactly where I’d been standing just a second before.

  This was a horrible position to be in. The suspect had the high ground and would be able to shoot me the second I turned the corner. I’d have to whip around and fire at the exact second to have any chance of not being shot. I drew a deep breath before turning sharply into the stairwell. The man was nowhere to be seen.

  I cursed and hurried up the stairs. I had basically no visibility or cover, but I didn’t have much choice other than to follow him. I made it to the top of the stairs just in time to catch sight of the man disappearing around the end of another hallway.

  I gritted my teeth and sprinted as fast as I could after him. The corner that he disappeared around led into another long hallway. At the end was a door marked “roof.” It was swinging closed just as I was turning the corner.

  I ran down the hall and shoved the door open using my own momentum, blinking at the harsh sunlight as I burst onto the roof. The sky was overcast again, and there was a chill in the air as though it was about to rain. I snapped my head around wildly as I searched for the man and spotted him just as he leapt off the top of the roof.

  “Stop!” I yelled in shock as I watched the man land unsteadily on the rooftop of the next building. I’d forgotten for a moment that the buildings in Dublin were all pressed together without any space between them, so watching him take a running leap off the side had come as a shock.

  I gathered my wits quickly before making the split-second decision to follow him and jumped off the edge of the roof. The next building’s roof was only a few feet below, but it was still a terrifying and exhilarating experience.

  I noticed as I moved that people on the street were beginning to look up at us. It wasn’t surprising, considering we were in a fairly touristy part of the city. We weren’t exactly being quiet or subtle either.

  The man was already pulling himself up onto the roof of the next building by then, so I pushed the muscles in my legs even further in an attempt to catch up to him. I could hear people gasping and yelling on the street below as they watched us, but I tuned their voices out.

  The roof of the next building was actually a few feet higher, so I had to clamber up using my arms. At this point, the man was only a few steps ahead of me, and the look on his face when he turned around and found me hanging off the left of the roof behind him was one of pure anger. He lifted his gun and attempted to shoot at me, but his shot sailed wide, and the bullet struck a chimney to my left with a dull crunching sound.

  The man growled in frustration and picked up his pace as he hurtled toward the next building. I finished pulling myself up and hurried after him. This one had a sloped roof that ended in a peak, and my eyes widened in shock as the man jumped without hesitation. He immediately began to slide down as the roof shingles splintered and slipped out of place beneath him, but he held on and began to scramble his way up.

  I stopped at the edge of the roof and drew my gun. I couldn’t bring myself to fire, though. If I did and he really lost his grip, he might tumble completely off the roof, and I didn’t want to kill him if nothing else than to be able to question him.

  I swallowed my trepidation and holstered my gun before leaping onto the roof behind him. The shingles felt unsteady and fragile beneath me, and I scaled the side of the roof as quickly as I could without losing my balance.

  The man turned to look at me as he reached the apex of the roof and smirked as he pointed his gun at me. I scrambled to the side and cut my hand against a broken shingle in my haste to get away, but I managed to get out of the way of his shot in time. Unfortunately for him, the recoil from shooting the gun caused him to lose his balance, and I watched realization dawn in his eyes as he tumbled backward.

  “Help!” I heard him shout from the other side of the angled roof. I could hear the crowd on the ground screaming more loudly as well.

  “He’s going to fall!” someone shouted, and I realized why everyone was suddenly more panicked. This building was on the street corner, which meant nothing on the other side of the roof would stop him from falling to his death.

  I climbed to the peak of the roof as quickly as I could, and sure enough, I could see the man dangling precariously off the edge, with nothing but cobblestones several stories below him.

  “Please help me,” the man begged. His hands were bright red with strain as he fought to maintain his grip.

  I struggled internally for a few seconds as I tried to decide what to do. On the surface, it would be wrong to let him fall to his death, even if he was a criminal. I wasn’t judge, jury, and executioner, after all. On the other hand, I didn’t trust this guy, and I had no guarantee that he wouldn’t toss me off the roof the second I helped him up.

  “Please,” the man pleaded pathetically as one of the shingles cracked beneath his hand. My sympathy won out then as I carefully lowered myself toward the edge of the roof. I pressed myself flat against the shingles before grabbing him by the wrist and using one arm to pull him further up onto the roof until he could get a better grip using his elbows. Once his upper body was back on the roof, I gripped the back of his jacket and hoisted him the rest of the way up.

  “Don’t move,” I warned once his entire body was back on the roof, lying face down. The people below us were cheerin
g, but my mood was anything but celebratory. “Put your hands behind your back.”

  “You don’t have to worry,” the man replied calmly as I clicked a set of handcuffs into his wrists. “I won’t resist. I owe you, after all. I may be a lot of things, but I’m no ingrate. I’m not about to hurt someone who just saved my life.”

  I eyed the man suspiciously. He didn’t sound like he was lying, but I wasn’t an idiot, either. I wouldn’t just easily trust someone who had just shot at me multiple times.

  I looked down to inspect the wound on my arm as I remembered that he had actually managed to graze me at one point. I took off my jacket to better examine the injury and was relieved to find that it wasn’t terrible at all, relatively speaking. It was bleeding a little, and the surrounding area was mottled and red, but I’d definitely had worse.

  “Sorry about that,” the man smiled sheepishly as he lifted his head to look at me. “Nothing personal. Just my job, you know?”

  “Really?” I deadpanned. “And what job is that?”

  The man stared at me blankly, surprise etched clearly across his face.

  “You’re joking, right?” he asked. “Isn’t that why you’re here? To arrest the lot of us for being mobsters?”

  “Mobsters?” I repeated, unsure what he was going on about. “We’re here because of the explosion that occurred this morning at the train station. You’re saying that was connected to the mob?”

  A beat of silence passed between us before the man began to snicker and then outright laugh uncontrollably.

  “Saints preserve us,” the man chuckled. “You’ve really got no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, do ya? Well, as I do owe you a favor, I suppose it’s only fair that I fill you in, then. You’ve gotten yourself way in over your head, lad.”

  The man’s raucous laughter was unnerving, and I felt a deep sense of dread settling into the pit of my stomach. There was more to this than we realized.