“Sorry about that,” said Eddie.
“No, it was fine. He still thinks it was a joke.” Alex held up the copies, “But these definitely prove otherwise. This was the last piece of evidence existing out there, and we have it! With these notarized baptism records from an Anglican abbey, no one can refute what we have found. You are about to change history, Eddie.”
“What do we do now?”
“I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about our next steps, and we have to take these to the press first. I mean, right away, today. The word must get out before we go to any government agency or embassy, or even the police. Once it’s in print, we’ll be safe. The records will be copied and protected. We would have nothing if these were taken from us.”
“You think?” laughed Cate.
“You can help. We need the nearest big town which might have a newspaper.”
“I’m pretty sure that would be Limerick. It’s only thirteen miles away. We can be there in less than half an hour. I saw Patrick reading the Limerick Leader at breakfast this morning. That’s a newspaper.”
“Perfect. Even the smallest papers these days have an arrangement with other news groups. They probably deal with the major British publications and even have some reciprocal affiliations with the American press, perhaps USA Today or the New York Times. They would be able to get this out, worldwide, in minutes. You drive, Eddie. I need to get my thoughts together and decide exactly how we break this story to the reporters.”
Inside the Ford Transit command center, Colin pulled off his headphones, his face as white as a sheet. Simon was quiet as well, knowing the significance of what they had heard.
“Here’s what we do. You pull AGS and all the local police off this case right now. I don’t want some republican down here getting a whiff of this; you know what they think of the Crown in Southern Ireland. Have them stand down immediately. Your two remaining teams from Five will be enough to stop the car and grab those three. I’m going into the post office to have a conversation with the postmaster and remove the originals. That will take care of the last of the paper trail forever. I’ll have the chopper come and get me when I’m done and join you wherever you have them pulled over. Don’t wait, make the calls.”
Simon hoisted his radio microphone to thank the Irish Security Agency for their help and dismiss them as they were no longer needed.
Colin stared through the dark-tinted glass of the communications vehicle at the parked SUV and could see the three people he had chased so far struggling with a big map as they searched for the best roads to take them to Limerick.
Simon was on a second call to his own men when the watched Vauxhall started up and pulled away from the curb. The head of MI5 saw them leaving and talked quickly into his headset, “Pursuit vehicles, be aware the target is on the move. Stop them as soon as you can. Do not let them get to Limerick.”
Colin nodded approvingly to Simon, jumped out of the surveillance van and hurried across to the post office.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Birthright
“If only our cheap phones had Google maps,” moaned Cate as she wrestled with the overly-large paper one she held. “I think if we follow the main street out of town and keep going straight, it should take us to the M20 and then right into Limerick, or we can hang a left in about two miles and go through the back roads.”
“I vote for the motorway. I can put my foot down and see what this baby does, and I’m the driver so I count for two votes,” laughed Eddie.
Alex rolled his eyes, “Now is not the time to get pulled over for speeding. If you-”
BANG!
A black Land Rover sideswiped their car, sending it spinning across the road.
“What the fuck?” yelled Eddie, as he fought for control of the SUV.
CRASH!
A second black Land Rover rammed the back of the Vauxhall, jolting the passengers and slamming the lighter SUV forward.
“Go!” screamed Cate.
Eddie didn’t need the encouragement. He dropped the car into second gear and floored the accelerator, racing away from the two vehicles.
There was no hesitation from the trained drivers behind them, and the Land Rovers sped up and gave chase, hurtling through the little village, forcing pedestrians to dive for cover as the three big cars powered down the narrow street built centuries before to accommodate horses and wagons..
Eddie saw fields approaching and a small traffic circle ahead marking the end of Adare. He entered it on the wrong side and swung the wheel hard to the left, and tires squealing, burned rubber into a tiny lane.
“Where are you going? The motorway is less than a mile from here,” yelled Alex.
“We’d never outrun a Land Rover on a straight road. Those things haul ass. This is our best chance.”
“He’s right,” agreed Cate, instinctively ducking as the hedgerows smacked against the side of the thundering car.
In seconds, the two Land Rovers reappeared on their tail and Eddie forced the SUV faster and faster as they flashed past farmhouses, fields, and streams, scattering sheep and cows as they slowed for nothing.
Eddie’s years spent stealing and joy-riding in hot cars had seen him taking part in pursuits several times before, and for all his youth, he remained cool behind the wheel even as the huge black cars stayed right on his rear fender, ramming it every chance they had.
Cate crouched in the back, clinging onto her seat belt for dear life while Alex clutched the notarized copies to his chest as if they would protect him in a crash.
Overhead, a black helicopter appeared and joined the chase, keeping pace with the manic racers as they tore through the dense countryside below.
Eddie saw the lane ahead narrowing even more, and with mud from recent rains having been washed down onto what was already becoming a rough cattle track, it gave him hope. “It’s getting tight in front of us. Their cars are bigger than ours. They could get stuck.”
Cate risked a glance over her shoulder and saw what Eddie had said was true. The lead Land Rover was already becoming hemmed in, scraping and snapping off branches from the encroaching hedgerows on both sides, while its wheels flung heavy mud back onto its sister car behind.
“You might be right,” Cate called to him, “I think they’re slowi-”
“HOLD ON!” yelled Eddie.
Just feet from them, a fence marked the end of the lane.
With no way to stop, Eddie’s only choice was to accelerate into the fence, so he jammed his foot down and used their speed to crash through the barrier, scattering it in pieces on either side of them as they demolished the wood and barbed wire, plunging into the tree-lined field beyond.
The car bounced violently as it powered over roots and rocks, flinging Alex and Cate around in their seats. Eddie braced himself with the steering wheel and kept going, always forward, with no other choice, as the Land Rovers were through the destroyed fence now and gaining on them.
“A few more seconds,” called Eddie. “There’s a clearing ahead.”
The car flew out of the trees, a small raised bank lifting the wheels from the ground, sending them airborne, and as they made contact again, Eddie screamed one more warning in the form of a single word, “Shit!”
He flung the wheel hard to the right while slamming his foot on the brakes, locking the pedal to the floor. The SUV skidded sideways, ripping moss from the damp earth before spinning to a dead stop on the banks of the River Maigue, its engine stalling and shutting down from the stress.
Eddie reached down to the pair of dangling exposed wires to restart the car, but even as he did, the two Land Rovers appeared and came to an immediate halt behind, boxing them in.
“What do we do?” Eddie asked. Alex struggled to think of the appropriate response, and before he could, the question was answered by the four men leaping out of the lead Land Rover, weapons drawn, and aimed squarely at them.
Simon ran with his team to the SUV and stopped just yards from it. He called to t
he occupants, “Armed police. Step out of the car with your hands raised. No harm will come to you.”
Alex’s expression spoke for him even before he uttered the words, “We have to.”
The three of them climbed slowly out, and as they did, they heard a thundering above, and a black helicopter descended into the wide clearing they had sped through.
The cornered fugitives stayed silent and watched as the ominous chopper touched down, its landing skids barely having made contact with the ground before Colin jumped out, clutching an assault rifle.
At his appearance, Alex expelled a deep sigh, reflecting his feeling of hopelessness.
Colin strode up to the trapped trio and stood there, gloating, allowing himself a moment to take in the dejected look on the captured Americans’ faces, and the successful conclusion to his six-thousand-mile chase.
Eddie was having none of it and fearlessly locked eyes with the famed MI6 agent and quipped, “Hey, Uncle, where’s your Beemer?”
Colin refused to be riled. The game was over and he had won. That was satisfaction enough, “How appropriate it ends here. So close to your great-great-great grandmother’s birthplace.”
“And who were your grandparents? Jack the Ripper?” mocked Eddie.
“Jack has been misunderstood all these years. The truth is, the good doctor was only trying to help his country.”
Cate would not let him get away with this and chimed in, “Yeah, Jack the Ripper, you and Bin Laden, three great patriots, right?”
Alex stepped forward, standing beside Cate and Eddie, demonstrating his unity with them, “You’re too late, Mr. Brown. We’re not the only ones with the proof now.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” smirked Colin Brown. “Did I not show you this?” He slung his semi-automatic rifle over his shoulder, and reached into his jacket, pulling out three small books, “The postmaster in Adare told me what you found is in here. I must congratulate you, Professor, you’re even better than I thought you were. You accomplished what a thousand scholars and a hundred detectives, on both sides of the Atlantic, searching for more than a century, were unable to do. Quite an achievement. A shame no one will ever know of it. Now please, give me the notarized copies.”
Alex raised his hands, “I don’t have any copies.”
Colin pulled his sidearm, pointing it at Cate’s forehead. “I’m not a fool and if you treat me like one, I will shoot the girl. She has zero value to me. The postmaster told me everything. The copies now or the girl dies and I get the copies a minute later. It’s your choice.”
“Please, whatever you do, don’t shoot her. It’s not necessary,” Alex knew it wasn’t a bluff and reached into his jacket. He reluctantly retrieved the papers and held them out as Colin ripped them from his grasp.
The MI6 operative checked them over; both of the copies and the attached certification pages were there. He smiled as he slipped them inside one of the books and knelt down, his gun not wavering from Cate’s head. With his free hand he pulled out a lighter, flicked it on and put it against the protruding notarized copies. The paper burned quickly and in a few seconds the flames spread and the books caught fire, forming a small blaze on the ground in front of Colin, consuming the abbey’s precious records.
He stood back up and stomped on the charred ashes, eminently satisfied at what he had achieved.
Eddie saw his expression, “You like starting fires, don’t you?”
“You might think you’re funny, boy, but I’m sure your professor doesn’t.” He turned his nasty glare to Alex, “It must make you want to cry, to see history gone forever. And now, I’m afraid, the same fate for the three of you.”
He tensed, deciding whether he would dismiss Simon’s men and rid himself of any witnesses before pulling the trigger.
It was then a voice from behind gave him reason to pause, “I wouldn’t do that. Not before we find out what a bunch of little men with big guns are doing in our peaceful country.”
Colin, Simon, and the two MI5 strike teams spun around to see ten men in civilian clothes, standing there with twelve-gauge shotguns and semi-automatic weapons trained on them.
Patrick stepped forward slowly, so as not to trigger the fire-fight, “I thought something wasn’t right when you were leaving, Caitlin, so I called up my friends, and we followed you. Looks like it’s a good job we did.”
“What are you yokels going to do, shoot us?” Colin’s tone was dismissive.
Patrick didn’t take the bait. Instead, his measured reply had an ominous but truthful sound, “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve shot an Englishman in a uniform.”
Colin looked him up and down, “What are you? A bunch of left-over IRA, longing for your glory days? That will make this even easier for us to explain.”
He gave a nod to his men who raised their weapons. Simon, who had stayed out of this so far, dropped his hand to his holstered Glock.
“I’d be very careful if I were you with your next moves,” warned Patrick. “This is our land you stand upon and our friends you threaten. We have all fought and bled for this country before. None of us will walk away from you in fear.”
“Fear or not, you’re right about one thing, none of you will walk away from here,” snapped Colin.
A silence fell over them as the tension from the standoff reached a fever pitch. It was about to become very bloody when a single figure moved between the two sides and their guns. A teenager with his hands raised. Eddie swung to each of them, addressing both groups, “This is about me. It always has been. There’s no need for anyone else to get hurt. I’m the one you want.”
The MI5 teams and the ex-IRA members hesitated at this unexpected offer of sacrifice.
Eddie sensed he had their attention and spoke, “I don’t know what he has told you, but my name is Edward Albert York. I didn’t know much about myself, or about anything, until recently. Then those two found me and I learned about my background and my past. I didn’t want any part of it at first, but who gets to choose where they come from?”
“This is nonsense,” screamed Colin.
“Let him speak,” ordered Simon.
“Thank you,” said Eddie. A change seemed to come over him. His slouch disappeared and he stood tall and straight as he continued, “The reason I have been hunted by this man,” he pointed to Colin, “is because I am the legitimate first-born descendent of Queen Victoria, Prince Albert and King Edward VII. I am the legal heir to the Houses of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, Hanover and Wettin. The throne of the Empire and Commonwealth is mine by Royal birthright. If you are loyal to Britain and the monarchy, then I order you to arrest him for treason against the Crown.” He gestured again to Colin.
Hearing this, Warren Bracker raised his hand to have his MI5 strike teams hold, then spoke up, his comment addressed to both Colin and Simon, “We were told we were after terrorists and bombers, nothing about this. Nothing about the monarchy.”
Simon stayed silent, but Colin yelled back, “They are terrorists. He’s lying. Follow your orders. It’s just empty words. He can’t prove anything. Not now, not ever.”
Eddie kept his voice controlled, “That’s where you are wrong. I can show you.”
He looked at Warren Bracker, sensing his command over the armed squad, and held out his right hand, palm up, seeking permission to move.
Bracker nodded, adding, “Let him. But be slow, boy”
Eddie took his hand and moved carefully with it, so as not to alarm the men with their trigger fingers on their guns, and slipped it inside his jacket, pulling out a small book. “This is what you were after, Mr. Brown. There were four books back in Adare we looked through, not three. I forgot to tell the Postmaster I borrowed one. I guess it’s a bad habit of mine. You burned the books from the wrong years. This is the one with the Royal record.”
He opened it to a page he had marked and lifted it high to show the MI5 teams. “I am holding the baptism record of the first-born male descendant of Queen Victoria’s grandson. My great-great-
great-grandfather, Prince Albert. It shows a direct bloodline leading to the throne of Great Britain, the throne you are sworn to protect. Kill me if you will, I can’t stop you, but when you pull the trigger, know you are killing your king.”
He reached out and offered the irreplaceable volume to Walter Bracker who took the book from him and read over the baptism entry. After a few seconds he looked up at his men, “The names are all there. What he’s saying may be right. We should have it checked by higher authorities before something happens here that can’t be taken back.”
The Field Supervisor tried to pass the book to Simon, who put his hand up to refuse it, “I already know what is written in the book. The boy is speaking the truth.” His words fell like a hammer on the ears of the loyal men of MI5.
Simon locked his eyes on Colin, “You told me he was a radical and his actions were deliberate. That he came to Britain to cause anarchy. You risked so many innocent lives for your own distorted ideals and strange visions of power. This boy is not here to destroy our traditions and overthrow the Crown and the government. He was unaware of all of this. It’s only now he’s learning about himself. You were the one who knew everything and yet concealed it. Our people deserve to hear his story and give the past a chance to come to light and see how it plays out.”
Colin spun to him, stunned, “You are a fool. What do you think you’re doing here?”
“Something I should have done long ago. Something we all promised to do. Every one of us at Five, all of these men, took the same oath, Regnum Defende. Today we are defending the realm.”
“You have no jurisdiction here,” snapped Brown. “MI5’s charter is only within Great Britain. Outside of those boundaries MI6 takes over. This is the Republic of Ireland. These men can no longer follow your orders.” He turned to them, “Under the Security Services Act of ’89, I am assuming command of this mission. You will only take my orders from here on out.”
Birthright: Pray your past stays hidden (Alex Turner Book 1) Page 22
