“Are you all right mate. Are you hurt?” Scott asked.
Jason wiped the sweat from his face. “That’s one thing about pain.” Jason groaned, rubbing his shoulder. “It commands to be felt.”
“Can you walk?” Scott asked, helping him to his feet. He stood in front of Jason, still holding him.
“I’m exhausted and light headed.”
“So that’s the famous adrenaline rush you force into your system,” Scott said, taking a pack of mints from his pocket. He pushed three into Jason’s mouth. “Chew these. You burnt your sugar levels. This will help.” Scott paused, looking at his friend. “You sure you are okay? You went a bit crazy back there.”
“I thought they hurt you when he hit you. I just went. Well, no one hits you Scott,” Jason said, crunching the mints.
Scott hugged Jason. “I love you mate.” For a few seconds, Jason did nothing until it felt awkward.
“Agh you’re squeezing my shoulder.” Jason groaned and pulled away. “That guy caught my shoulder with the bat. All the karate training I do can never take pain like this away.”
“I guessed as much. But you did take down four guys armed with baseball bats and a shot gun,” Scott said.
Jason looked at his friend and smiled. If anything, at least the attack brought Scott back to his senses and out of shock. Together, they walked to the army barracks.
CHAPTER NINE
The army had left Scott and George alone and were not given any details of the mission. When Scott came back covered in blood with Jason, they offered help but no questions were asked. Scott called Paddy Murphy; he came back to the barracks. Not very many people were in the loop on the undercover operation for Jason’s protection. Scott had no one else to call.
An army doctor cleaned Jason’s cut hands and a cut just above his eye. Jason followed him into Scott’s dorm room. It would normally sleep twenty soldiers; Scott had it to himself.
After a shower, Scott climbed into his bed, still shaking. Jason sat on Scott’s bed and felt his friend’s forehead. “You don’t feel cold. I think you’re in shock.”
“I’ve never seen a dead person before,” Scott said bluntly.
“I know, it’s not nice. I’ve seen too many, but I never wanted to see someone I liked. I’m really gonna miss George,” Jason croaked, fighting back tears.
“You can only like someone so much… But never like them as much as you are gonna miss them,” Scott said. Jason looked at Scott, trying to decipher what he had just said. A knock at the door brought him back to his senses.
Paddy Murphy stepped in and paced towards the two boys. “What terrible news, are you boy’s hurt in anyway?” he asked.
“Scott’s badly shaken up. I have a few cuts and bruises and my shoulder is killing me, but I’m fine. Has someone informed Jean and Martin?” Jason said.
“Jean? Martin?” Paddy asked.
“George Young’s wife and son.”
“I believe that’s happening right now. The Prime minister has been informed of course. MI6, MI5, and most of SYUI have been informed. Many will miss George, but SYUI must go on. For now, they’re appointing a temporary replacement. She is on her way here now. She wanted to personally investigate this mission. Her reputation precedes her. She is tough and has been known to make grown men cry just by barking orders at them. She plays it all by the book; she won’t bend any rules,” Paddy said.
“She?” Jason asked.
“Yes, a career minded woman called Brenda Hatchet.”
“It will be strange working with someone who doesn’t curse, stink of body odor and cigarettes, farts, burps, and bends the rules a little.” Jason paused, his eyes welled up. “Okay, bends the rules a lot.” He tried to smile. His emotion brewing over, he sobbed. Scott took his hand and gently squeezed it.
“Is the mission over?” Scott asked.
Paddy looked at the two boys and shrugged his shoulders. “I suspect so. We will let Brenda decide. They are flying her here from London. Why don’t you boys get some sleep? Jason do you want me to get someone to bring in a bed for you?”
Jason shook his head no. He lay down on top of the blankets next to Scott.
“I’ll leave you guys alone to get some sleep. You both look wrecked.”
*
Brenda Hatchet was flown in to Belfast from London by Helicopter. She arrived three hours later and was debriefed by Paddy Murphy. After going through the files and catching up on the details, she marched into the barrack room Scott used. Paddy followed behind like a terrified mouse.
Both boys were asleep. Scott was covered under the blankets and Jason lie on top of the bed, snuggled beside him.
“Look at them, it’s disgusting,” Brenda turned and said to Paddy. “Using boys this age. They’re just children.”
“I agree. If you could have seen them earlier crying over George, it was pitiful. But Jason here, he’s the blond one,” Paddy pointed, “he’s one of SYUI’s most successful secret agents. No one ever suspects him, but apparently he can take care of himself. Me, I’m like you and think they should be at school and should leave this stuff to grown-ups,” Paddy said.
“Looking at the bruising and cuts to his hands and face, it doesn’t look like he can take care of himself that well.” She paced towards them.
“Wake up I need to speak to you,” She shouted.
“I guess you don’t have children yourself, do you?” Paddy grinned. He approached Jason and gently shook his arm. Jason opened his eyes and propped himself up on his elbow. He wiped his eyes and yawned.
“Did anyone see you when George was shot?” Brenda asked.
“What?” Jason asked he sat up.
“The report said you were at the scene. Did anyone recognize you and see you?” she asked impatiently. Scott opened his eyes.
“Who?” Scott asked with one eye open.
“Go back to sleep mate,” Jason said he climbed to his feet and faced Brenda.
“Let’s take this conversation over there. He’s tired and still shaken up,” Jason said, gesturing to a table in the corner with his head.
“I need to talk to him as well.” Brenda stiffened.
“And you will tomorrow. Now who are you?” Jason asked.
Brenda studied the boy. He was just as his file said he would be: disobedient and strong-minded. “I’m Brenda Hatchet the new head of SYUI.”
“Acting head,” Paddy interrupted and was immediately given a dirty look for his comment.
Jason shook her hand. “Hi. What do you need to know?”
“When the gunman shot George did, anyone see you who might know you?” Brenda asked.
“It was Shamus O’Neill who shot and killed George Young. He never saw me. Some people from the restaurant did, but none know me.”
Brenda shuffled through her papers and read a section. “It says here the gunman was hooded. So how can you be sure it was Shamus?”
“The way he walked, stood, his clothing, build, it was Shamus.”
“But you are not one hundred percent sure?” Brenda quizzed.
“Ninety percent.”
Brenda paused again, shuffling the notes and sucking on a pen. She questioned Jason for another hour before stopping and going over her notes. Jason fought off sleep. He looked at Paddy and tapped his wrist, the universal language for what time is it?
“It’s nearly four in the morning son,” Paddy said.
Brenda looked over her glasses at Paddy and frowned at him. Jason observed her. No wedding ring, probably aged around thirty, very slim. She spoke with an upper class English accent. Her hair was straight and long; nothing was out of place.
Brenda faced Jason. “Let me make myself clear from the start. Boys your age should be playing with train sets and going camping with the Boy Scouts. You shouldn’t be running around the streets of Belfast getting shot at and definitely not working undercover as a spy. If I’m promoted head of SYUI permanently, this will be your last mission until you are least twenty-one and
only if you qualify.” She paused, looked over at Scott who was still asleep, and continued.
“However, we’re here now and we have some new intelligence so against my better judgment, we need you to go back in.”
“Is your cover blown, laddie?” Paddy asked.
“Um, no I don’t think so. They probably think I’m in bed. If I can get back, they won’t know I was gone.”
“Do you normally travel around with blood and vomit on your clothes? And with cuts and bruises on your face?” Brenda smugly asked.
Jason looked down at himself. “Scott threw up all over himself and was squashed by George when he was shot. He was upset and needed a hug. I’ll shower and borrow some of Scott’s clothes. We’re the same size.”
“And how will you explain the new clothing to the O’Neill’s?” Paddy asked.
“I’ll say they’re Gober’s.”
“Gober?” Brenda asked.
“Gobnait O’Grady. He’s a friend,” Jason said, talking off his clothing he paused. “What new information do you have?”
Brenda stood and walked over to him. “We ran the initials you gave us, SS, through our systems. We have heard those initials a few times lately. We have certain peoples phone lines tapped and…” she paused and gasped as Jason removed his shirt. “Oh Jason, what happened to your shoulder?” Brenda said before Jason interrupted her and pointed at her. Using his finger in a circular motion, he asked her to turn around while he continued to get undressed.
“A guy with a baseball bat hit me. It’s just bruised but bloody hurts.” Jason grimaced, removing the last of his blood and vomit-covered clothing.
Brenda faced away and continued. “It seems this person is the main arms supplier. We have never been so close, and he’s coming to Belfast. We need you to…” Brenda paused again. The shower started to run. She waited for him.
The shower felt warm and refreshing. He was happy to get clean again and even happier when he raided Scotts suitcase of clothing. It was better than the clothing he had been forced to wear.
“I’m decent. You can turn around again,” Jason said pulling on his shoes.
“Well, as I was saying, we need you to find out when he’s coming. Anything you pick up could be vital to saving countless lives and many people from injury,” Brenda said.
“We have a few problems I never mentioned. Scott was seen by Shamus. They assume he’s George’s son so he will need a baseball cap and change of clothes and maybe glasses to disguise him before he meets me to pass information. Also Um…” He paused, looking guilty. “Have you heard of the Creggan Cleaners?”
Brenda shook her head, saying no.
Aye, I have. A bunch of vicious vigilantes. It’s believed they run in the same circles as the IRA. Why, what have you done?” Paddy asked.
“They got too nosey for their own good and then one of them hit Scott,” Jason said.
“Oh boy.” Paddy sighed and sat down heavily, shaking his head.
Brenda looked bewildered. “What’s the big issue with hitting Scott?” Brenda asked.
Paddy shook his head. “How bad did you hurt them Jason?”
“It was a mess. There was four of them armed with baseball bats and a sawn off shot gun. It wasn’t going to be easy in normal circumstances, but when they hit Scott I kind of…” He paused.
“I’ve read your file and read Georges notes about your temper. You lost control?” Brenda asked.
Jason nodded. “None of them are dead.” He gave a tight-lipped smile. “So maybe it’s not so bad. Oh, and the good news is, I found out who is head of the IRA and gives the orders to Shamus.”
“Who?” Paddy and Brenda said in harmony.
“Bradan O’Neill.”
“You’re as nutty as a fruitcake, laddie. Bradan O’Neill is a retard, everyone knows that. I knew it was pointless sending in a boy to do a man’s job,” Paddy said aggressively.
“You’re the retard, Paddy.” Jason cursed at the top of his voice. It woke Scott up.
“You stupid little boy. Bradan is no more head of the IRA than I’m Cinderella,” Paddy taunted.
“I dunno you look like one of the ugly sisters and have the brains of a pumpkin,” Jason snapped.
Brenda got between the two of them and stopped them from throwing insults at each other before it got out of hand. Paddy was told to wait outside. With a blanket wrapped around himself, Scott joined Jason and Brenda. Jason passed him a folded piece of paper.
“This is one of Bradan’s drawings, looks like animals or something,” Jason said.
“It’s a map.” Scott said instantly and showed them the various markings. He soon deciphered Bradan’s drawings and the location.
“How could you work that out so quickly?” Jason asked.
“I was just born awesome,” Scott said as a matter of fact.
*
Paddy drove Jason and Brenda to Shankill Road where Jason was dropped off. He jogged the rest of the way, just to be safe in case someone was watching.
The milkman was already out on his round picking up empties and delivering fresh milk on the doorsteps. Jason gingerly opened the front door and crept in the house. The familiar stench of stale cigarettes welcomed him. He took off his shoes and tip toed up the stairs, staying close to the edges as it was less likely to squeak.
“And where the bloody hell have you been?” Bradan asked.
He made Jason jump. “Um. I was with Gober. I never knew it was so late, sorry,” Jason said.
“Oh you will be when Maude sees you.” Bradan grinned as he noticed Maude coming from her room, tying the cord around her dressing gown.
“Jason Norris what time do you call this?” Maude shouted she paced toward Jason. “Sneaking off into the night and what happened to your face. Have you been fighting again?”
Jason paused, thinking about his excuse. “Sorry Maude, I arranged to meet Gober. We went out and lost track of time and some boy’s started on us. We fought them off then some others came and we had to hide.”
“And exactly what was so engaging that kept you boys out until five in the morning?” Shamus barked, coming out onto the landing wearing his pajamas. Jason was repulsed by Shamus. His bitterness towards him turned to anger. He fought to control himself.
“When we were out, some poor man got gunned down in cold blood in front of his son downtown. The place was alive with police and the army. We just played ducking down and not being seen by anyone.” Jason couldn’t hide the contempt he felt for Shamus in his voice.
“Did anyone see you?” Bradan asked.
“No, it was just a game we played, like hide and seek. Sorry for being out so late. We couldn’t just walk home because the police were everywhere. I don’t know if they caught the cowards that shot the poor unarmed guy who was out for dinner with his kid. Isn’t that terrible Shamus? Suppose that was us.” Jason said, waiting for his reaction.
Bradan and Shamus said nothing. Maude looked guilty. “I will be glad when all this is over. Jason’s right. What about the poor kiddie who watched his daddy get shot? Now Jason, to bed with ya, and where did these clothes come from?” Maude asked.
“I fell in the creek, so Gober let me borrow these. Goodnight Maude, and I’m sorry for sneaking out.”
“So you should be. Don’t think you got away with it either. There will be no playing with that Gobnait for two weeks. He’s a bad influence on you. Now get to bed, we’ve church in the morning,” Maude said.
CHAPTER TEN
Maude went into Jason’s bedroom. He was in a deep sleep, curled up under his covers. She gently shook Jason. “Come on, Jason. It’s time to get up. We have church today.”
Jason felt like he had only just gone to bed a few minutes before. Had the previous night been a bad dream? Maude pulled the covers off him.
“Come on up, you jump and don’t be forgetting to brush your teeth.”
Jason swung his legs over the side of the bed. He rose, shivering in the cold air, and went to the bath
room before plodding barefoot downstairs in his pajamas. A mug of steaming hot tea welcomed him. He sat down opposite Bradan whose head was buried in the Belfast Daily Times. Jason wrapped his hands around his mug of tea and savored the warmth.
“Here’s your toast. If you want jam, help yourself,” Maude said.
“Thank you,” Jason said quietly.
Shamus looked over the top of his paper. “You got a big bruise on your face, Jason. That must have hurt.” He looked at Jason spreading jam on his toast. “But looks like you put up a good fight. You don’t have a single knuckle that’s not cut.”
“Don’t encourage him, Shamus. I don’t want him fighting and coming back in that state. What will Jerry Duffy say if he sees the boy all cut up like that?”
Jason kept his head down and ate his breakfast. He was tired and knew it would be a long day.
*
Father Doherty gave his sermon mostly on the evils of alcohol and gambling. Jason was certain, if it was not for the hard wooden pew he sat on, he would have fallen asleep. Father Doherty was a gangly man with a raw face, partly paralyzed on one side. His affliction made him look as if he was trying to be funny, even when he wasn’t.
The choirboys looked just as bored as Jason. A few glanced at him. His cheek was badly bruised right up to his eye. Father Doherty asked the choir to stand and announced they would sing a song to remind us of our love ones present and past.
It immediately struck a chord with Jason. He thought of George Young. The choir started singing Ave Maria, some parts as a group and one part a choirboy sang a solo. Jason lowered his head, his thoughts with George and the times he had spent with him. The velvet angelic voice singing the high notes caused Jason to brim over with emotion.
Tears dropped around Jason’s feet. His nose ran, which he wiped with the back of his hand. It was all he could do to control his emotions. When the hymn was over, he welcomed Father Doherty asking the congregation to kneel to pray. It gave Jason a chance to wipe his eyes.
When Shamus, Maude, and Jason were leaving the church, Father Doherty shook their hands and thanked them for coming.
Jason Steed Royal Decree Page 7
