“A fieapit called the Albert Hotel,” Keogh told him.
“Fleapit, indeed,” RYan toasted him. “Our coun- ‘May you die in Ireland,” Keogh replieg.
“An excellent sentiment.” Ryan swallowed his
Bushmills in a single gulp.
“So what happens noW?”
I’ll tell you in London. We’ll fly there, you, me,
Z I
and Kathleen. There’s someone I have to see.” Keogh turned to the girl. “An activist is it? A little young I would have thought.” “I bloody told you, they blew up my family when I Was ten years old, Mr. Keogh,” she said fiercely.
“I grew up fast after that.” “A hard world.” “And I’ll make it harder for the other side, believe me.” “You hate well, I’ll Say that.” Keogh turned back to her uncle. “So that’s it, then?” He shook his hand.
“What am I really getting into? I should know more.” “All right, a taster only. How well do you know the northwest of England? The Lake District?” “I’ve never been there.” “A wild and lonely area at this time of the’year with the tourists gone,2’ “So?” “A certain truck will be psing through there, a meat transporter. You and I will hijack it. Very simple, very fast. A five-minute job.” “You did say meat transporter?” Ryan smiled. “That’s what this truck is. What’s inside is another matter. You find that out later.” “And what happens afterwards?” “We drive to a place on the Cumbrian coast where there’s an old disused jetty. There will be a boat waiting, a Siemens ferry. Do you know what that is?” “The Germans used them in World War Two to transport heavy equipment and men in coastal attacks.”
“You’re well informed. We drive on board and sail for Ulster. I’ve found a suitable spot on the coast where there’s a disused quarry pier. We drive the track off the boat and disappear into the night. All beautifully simple.”
“So it would seem,” Keogh said. “And the crew of this Siemens ferry? What are they doing?”
“Earning their wages. As far as they are concerned, it’s just some sort of illegal traffic or other.
They do it all the time: They’re those sort of people.” “Crooks, you mean.”
“Exactly. The boat is tied up near Wapping at the moment. That’s w3y we’re going to London. To finalize things.”
There was a pause and then Kathleen Ryan said, “What do you think, Mr. Keogh?”
“That you’d better start calling n)Martin as it
seems we’re going to spend some tird together.” “But do yot think it would work?”
“Its greatest virtue, as your uncle says, is its simplicity.
It could work perfectly just like a Swiss watch. On the other hand, even Swiss watches break down sometimes.”
“O ye of little faith.” Ryan smiled. “Of course it will work. It’s got to. My organization needs the means to buy arms for our people. It’s essential.
There’s a passage in the Koran that says there is more truth in one sword than ten thousand words.” z5
“I take your point.” Keogh stood up. “It’s late.
I’d better get back to my hotel.”
“Join us here for breakfast in the morning,” Ryan told him. “We’ll catch the noon plane. I’ll take care of the tickets.”
“I’ll say goodnight, then.”
“The bar is closed. Kathleen will let you out. I’ll keep your Walther here. No way of passing through airport security with that, but it doesn’t matter. Our London connection will provide any weapons we need.” He held out his hand. “I’ll see you in the morning.” THE GIRL )PENED THE DOOR AND RAIN DROVE
in on the wind.
“A dirty old night,” she said.
“You can say that again.” Keogh turned up his collar. “An Ulster fry-tp will do me fine for breakfast especially if you cook it yourself. Two eggs and don’t forget the sausage.”
“Go on, get on your way.” She pushed him out and laughed that distinctive harsh laugh of hers and closed the door. KEOGH HAD DIFFICULTY FINDING A PHONE BOX.
Most of them seemed to be vandalized. He finally struck luck when he was quite close to the hotel. He closed the glass door to keep out the rain and rang the Dublin number. Barry was seated at the desk of his small study with his Chief of Intelligence for U1-