Freedom First, Peace Later

by Jeanette Hewitt

  “You punched Rosina’s mother?” Connor stared at her in shock. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah.” Bronwyn hung her head. “I’m a hothead. I can’t help it, and I’m a bit ashamed, but she hurt Rosie so bad. I couldn’t not do anything.”

  “You love Rosina very much, don’t you?” he asked.

  She nodded and smiled through her tears. “She’s my best friend.”

  And that’s why you’ll never know what I’m feeling for you.

  Chapter Twelve

  Drama at the Camp

  “Are you okay?” Connor asked.

  They were in the Italian restaurant that they had been to on Christmas Eve and Rosina was lost in her own thoughts.

  “Yeah, I’m okay,” she said, but Connor knew different.

  It had taken a lot of work for him to get her out of bed, let alone out of the house, and now that they were here he was determined to make sure she enjoyed the night out.

  “Was your meal all right?”

  She had left half of the main course on her plate.

  “It was lovely, I’m just not too hungry,” she replied.

  “Can you manage a cherry pie? I promise there’ll be nothing but cherries in it tonight.”

  His comment raised a half hearted smile from her and sighing, Connor leaned back in his chair and thought back to the last time they were here, how happy they had been that night. He wished that she could be that happy again, but watching her transformation since the revelations about her father, he didn’t think it was possible. Since her mother had broken the news to her about her father, there had been a black cloud hanging over her and nothing he or anyone else did or said seemed to be able to shake it off.

  “Maybe we can skip dessert, take a walk home?” she asked.

  “It’s a long walk,” he said doubtfully. “How about we get a taxi to the Fox and Hound, stop in and see if Bronwyn’s working, then walk from there?”

  “Yes, that would be fine,” she replied.

  Connor sighed. A week ago she would have panicked at the thought of Connor being seen on the wrong side of the divide, but, when he had mentioned going to the Fox and Hound just now, the danger he might face hadn’t even occurred to her. He stood up and left the money for the bill on the table.

  “Ready?” He held out his hand and she took it.

  “Ready,” she said and together they left the restaurant.

  When the taxi dropped them off at the Fox and Hound, she clutched his hand as they walked to the door.

  “Are you sure you want to be here? People are not going to be very friendly.”

  “Don’t worry, we won’t be staying that long. If Bronwyn’s not here we’ll leave.”

  When they entered the pub nobody gave them a second glance. They pushed through the crowds to the bar and Connor was pleased to see that Bronwyn was on duty.

  “Hey!” he called and she saw him and waved.

  “With you in a minute!” she called and finished serving.

  “Rosie!” she exclaimed when she came over to him. “Good to see you, babe.”

  “You too, Bron.” Rosina glanced nervously around her.

  “Hey, I’m leaving now. Want to come through the back while I get my things?”

  They followed her through and when they sat down in the back room Rosina asked how Barry was.

  “They were doing tests when I left. I’m going back to the hospital to see if they’ve got any closer to finding out what’s wrong with him.”

  “Poor Barry,” murmured Rosina.

  “I know, but he’ll be fine, I’m sure,” replied Bronwyn. “But, Rosie, how are you?”

  Rosina shrugged and Bronwyn looked at Connor. He shook his head and Bronwyn frowned and turned her attention back to Rosina.

  “You’ll be fine. You’ve got us, and we’re all you need, okay?” Bronwyn stood up. “I should get back to the hospital. I’ll walk with you guys.”

  As Rosina walked ahead of them, Bronwyn caught Connor’s arm and pulled him back.

  “She’s not looking good, Connor,” she said with a worried expression. Connor stopped and turned to Bronwyn.

  “I know, and I don’t know what else I can do.”

  Just two miles down the road from the Fox and Hound, Stu looked out over the grounds of the camp. The barracks were almost deserted. The majority of soldiers had been called out to a problem in nearby Carrickmacross, where the towns own supply of army soldiers were stretched to

  the limit after an attack on the local government offices. Stu, Carter, and another corporal called Lee were the only men left on the camp. They were all sitting in the observation tower, drinking the Irish liqueur that Bronwyn had given Stu on Christmas Day.

  “Better not get any trouble tonight. Three of us can’t handle any bother from the locals,” said Lee as he glanced at the computer screens.

  “It’s been quiet for the last week. We’ll be okay.” Stu pulled a pack of cards from his pocket and held them up. “Who’s up for a game of poker?”

  The three men played awhile until the snow began to fall heavily and Lee got up to close the hatch against the whistling wind.

  “Shit!” he said as he passed the computer desk.

  “What?” Stu and Carter turned around and looked over his shoulder at the monitor. What they saw made Stu’s blood run cold. A dozen or so men were at the gates of the camp, and, upon closer inspection, it looked like they were planting some device in the ground to try to blow up the gates to gain access to the grounds.

  “Oh fuck, we didn’t set the alarms!” said Stu in horror.

  “Carter, you help me get us armed. Stu, call up Carrickmacross and tell them we need our fucking men back!” With that Lee grabbed Carter’s arm and pulled him through the hatch. Stu dialed up the neighbouring army base and requested emergency assistance. That job done, with shaking hands he unlocked the cupboard that contained their weapons and pulled out four rifles and enough ammunition to blow up half of Crossmaglen. He ran full speed to the window that looked out over the gates and clipped the telephoto lens onto the rifle. Trying to keep it steady, he opened the window and settled the rifle on the ledge. Looking through the lens, he finally got it in focus and tensed himself, ready for action.

  * * * *

  Bronwyn, Connor, and Rosina had just turned the corner in the lane that ran parallel to the army base when the gates exploded. The blast of the detonation startled them. Connor grabbed Bronwyn and Rosina and pulled them to the ground. Debris flew through the night sky and landed around them. They lay in the snow until the sky had stopped hailing pieces of metal and earth upon them.

  “Holy shit!” Bronwyn sat up and looked over to the base. It was now crawling with men and, as a burst of machine gun fire sounded from inside the camp, Bronwyn leapt to her feet.

  “Get down!” yelled Connor as he pulled Rosina into the woods that lined the road.

  “Stu!” Bronwyn whispered. Without stopping to think about the consequences should she get caught, she ran towards the army base.

  By the time Connor realised that Bronwyn wasn’t on the lane, he could no longer see her through the heavy snow that was falling. He ran back into the woods and sat next to Rosina.

  “You stay here, do you understand?” He clasped her shoulders. “You stay down, and don’t come out until I get back, okay?”

  “Don’t go!” she cried and grabbed his hand.

  “I’ll be right back,” he replied and pulled his hand away. With that he stumbled back out of the woods and onto the lane. Checking that it was clear, he ran as well as his injured leg would allow and made it across the other side of the road to the fence of the army base. Kneeling down, he peered through the fence. There were men, identifiable as being I.R.A by their ski masks. He tried to count but they were crawling all over the camp; there could have been eight, maybe more. He spotted four bodies lying near the fence in the snow and his heart lurched at the thought that one of them could be Bronwyn. He edged closer and although he couldn�
��t see clearly, he was pretty certain that they were all men. What the hell had made Bronwyn bolt like she had? Had she recognised one of these guys as Danny? Suddenly one of the men walked right in front of Connor on the other side of the fence, and he held his breath as a Thompson sub-machine gun dangled in front of his face. The man moved on and Connor breathed again before crawling round the fence towards the rear of the camp.

  When the gates blew, Stu was ready and as the men poured through the smoke he opened fire. Two went down, but another seven or eight flooded through the broken gates and into the camp. He heard a blast of machine gun fire from the barracks and he whooped in delight as another man got caught in the blast. They split up then, six that Stu could see clearly and a group of four men. He had his rifle trained on the men who sprinted in the direction of the Northeast Sanger. He followed them with the lens of the rifle, trigger finger ready, when he noticed that as they ran they were dropping something after them.

  POW!

  Explosives. They must have loads of them! What if they tried to blow up the tower?

  “Shit!” he muttered and let off the rest of the rounds in the rifle. When it was spent he reloaded. Reaching out, he flicked on the beam that bathed the campground in light.

  Connor threw himself down on the ground when the light came on. He glanced around and panicked when he realised he was practically out in the open. He crawled forward, heading for the side of the camp where the grass grew tall and thick. He had nearly made it when a shot whizzed past his ear. He lay flat on the ground, breathing heavily and trying to flatten himself into the snow. The soldiers were shooting at him! They thought he was one of them; he could hardly stand up and wave a white flag or the I.R.A men would pelt him with bullets. When no further shots were fired, he pushed his hands into the snow and pulled himself into the grass where he lay on his back, trying to ignore the pain in his leg.

  Bronwyn ran around the edge of the camp and threw herself to the ground as another bomb exploded just feet away. She looked up when the smoke had cleared and saw the bomb had blasted the back fence away. Two men lay amongst the mangled fence, their faces bloodied, and she averted her eyes from the corpses. She pulled herself to her hands and knees and, crawling into the camp, she made her way over to the barracks where she hunched down in the shadows of the building. As she began to wonder what had possessed her to run in here and get stuck in the middle of a deadly battle, two men suddenly came hurtling out of the barracks and ran past her towards the tower on the other side of the camp.

  Bronwyn curled herself into a ball and sat with her head in her arms.

  Stu swung around with the rifle as someone came through the hatch. He only just managed to stop his finger pulling the trigger as Carter and Lee hauled themselves up and into the tower.

  “We got about seven, I think,” Lee gasped as he tried to catch his breath after the sprint across camp. “There’s maybe another three running around out there.”

  Stu nodded and turned back to the window. He caught sight of two people making their way across the edge of the camp near one of the barracks and he aimed and fired. He got one, and the other guy looked at his companion, who was writhing on the ground, and darted into the barracks.

  “Gotcha!” whispered Stu. Throwing the rifle aside, he grabbed Carter’s machine gun and made for the hatch.

  “Hey!” Carter said, following Stu. “Where are you going? We should stay up here until reinforcements get here.”

  “Cover me,” called Stu as he lowered himself down, landing in the snow. Moving quickly, he ran across to the barracks and fell to his knees next to the man that he had shot. Keeping very quiet, he raised his head and looked through the window. There was one of them in there, and Stu’s blood boiled as he realised the man was emptying their supplies of weapons, stowing them into two large black bags. He checked that Carter’s gun was loaded and, taking a deep breath, he crashed through the door, aiming the machine gun. The man spun around, his own hands loaded with weapons, and for a second they stood still, neither making the first move.

  “Drop the shit!” yelled Stu, taking a step towards the man.

  Just outside, Bronwyn sat up when she heard Stu shout from inside the building. She crawled over to the window and pulled herself up from the ground. Peering through the window she saw Stu standing by the open door on the opposite side of the building. She glanced to her left and when she recognised Danny as the man standing with an armful of weapons, she sank back down into the snow.

  Shit!

  What was Danny doing here?

  Bronwyn rose up and looked through the window again. The situation inside hadn’t changed; Stu stood with his legs apart, the gun in his hands aimed at Danny. Danny stood still, looking down at all of the guns he held and Bronwyn knew he was trying to work out which ones might be loaded. Danny would shoot Stu, she knew he was capable, and she knew that Danny would shoot to kill.

  There was only one way to stop him, and that was if she got in the way. Danny would never shoot her, she was sure of it.

  Bronwyn broke into a run and as she rounded the corner of the building she could hear Danny and Stu shouting at each other. She tripped over the dead man and skidded through the door, landing at Stu’s feet. Gasping, she grabbed Stu’s arm and pulled herself up to stand in front of him.

  “Drop it, Danny. I won’t let you do this,” she said.

  Danny stared at her in astonishment and he didn’t even notice when the pile of guns fell from his arms to the floor.

  “What the fuck?” he said. “Why are you here? Get the fuck out!”

  She shook her head and stood her ground.

  “If I have to go through you to get to him, I will,” Danny said softly.

  “Bullshit,” replied Bronwyn.

  Stu grabbed Bronwyn and in one fluid motion he pulled her to his side. She struggled and wrenched her arm away from him.

  In the seconds that their brief struggle took, Danny stooped and picked up one of the shotguns that lay at his feet. Stu, still trying to drag Bronwyn towards the door, heard the click of the safety catch and he turned, with Bronwyn still in his grip. It all happened quickly, but to Bronwyn it seemed like she was in a slow motion movie. Danny raised the gun, and both Bronwyn and Stu realised that she would take that bullet if Danny pulled the trigger.

  “Danny, no!” Bronwyn screamed, covering her face.

  Simultaneously pushing Bronwyn aside and raising his machine gun, Stu let off four quick bursts of fire. A single shot fired from Danny’s shotgun, and then there was silence.

  Connor heard Bronwyn scream and he sat bolt upright as the barracks lit up with machine gun fire.

  This time he ran with all his might, slamming down onto his injured leg, the pain only spurring him on to reach her. He ran through the same hole in the fence that Bronwyn had used to gain access to the camp, and as he reached the barracks, he ran through the open door, not caring that there could still be a gunman in there. The room was smoky, but he could make out Bronwyn’s inert body lying on the ground.

  “Bronwyn!” he shouted. Running to her, he fell to his knees and hauled her up to face him. She opened her eyes, stared into his, and he yelled with joy that she wasn’t hurt. Before he could ask if she was okay, he was grabbed by his shirt and pulled out of her reach across the floor.

  Suddenly he found himself staring at the wrong end of a machine gun. He held his hands up and looked towards Bronwyn. She crawled across the floor and, reaching up, moved the gun away.

  “It’s okay, Stu. He’s with me,” she said in a shaky voice and stood up. She walked across the room and stared down at the ruin that used to be her boyfriend. Danny was lying on his stomach, blood pooling around his body. Bronwyn grabbed his jacket and heaved him towards her until he was lying on his back. His eyes were open, and his chest heaved in a jagged fashion with every dying breath that he took.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered.

  He locked his eyes on hers and each time he breathed out, dr
oplets of blood sprayed from his mouth.

  Quickly, Bronwyn unzipped his jacket and roughly pulled up his shirt. His body was riddled with bullets. She pulled the shirt back down, knowing that there was nothing she could do to save him now. She took his hand and held it tight, tears dripping from her face onto him. A few seconds later, his eyes rolled back and his chest stopped its rise and fall.

  “Get out,” said Stu eventually. “You two, get out now.”

  Connor understood; although Danny was dead, there were surely more of his kind around the base, and they were still in danger. He limped over to Bronwyn, pulling her away from Danny.

  “Come on, sweetheart, come with me,” he said softly and, with a last glance back, she allowed herself to be led away.

  Holding hands, they ran around the edge of the barracks until they came to the place where the fence was missing. Bronwyn stopped and looked back at the camp.

  “Danny…” she whispered.

  Connor pulled her out of the camp, back towards the woods where he hoped to God Rosina was still hiding. It would be all he needed for her to go missing now. He realised that Bronwyn was still babbling and he clapped a hand to her mouth.

  “Shh, we need to stay quiet. We don’t know how many more of them are around.”

  She nodded and he took his hand away.

  “He would have shot me!” she whispered to Connor. “Danny was going to shoot me.” Her eyes filled with tears and Connor pulled her down into the thick grass where he had originally hidden. He pulled her close to him.

  “But he didn’t,” he said. “You’re here, alive—safe now—as long as we get home as soon as possible.”