A Real Job

by David Lowe

  ‘No it’s alright, we can check that later,’ George said, ‘I’d rather make sure David forgets about Sayfel and concentrates on arriving at Eastlands on time to catch that helicopter MI5 are sending over to take him to Ireland.’

  ‘When I get back, I’d love to get my hands on the bastard,’ David said.

  ‘Forget all about Sayfel for now,’ George said, ‘just focus on finding out what McCrossan’s up to.’

  ‘There’s no worries on that score George,’ David said, ‘Seeing how we’re dealing with the Real IRA, I suppose you could say this is a real job. Debs, any chance of a lift?’

  * * *

  Driving along Great Ancoats Street towards Manchester City Football Club’s stadium, Eastlands, Debbie asked David, ‘So what were Jenny’s final instructions?’

  ‘She reiterated I’m to be no more than an observer and only provide information to the MI5 officers. I’m not to get involved with anything else.’

  Turning right into Every Street, she said, ‘Do as she says. I want you back in one piece, so no unnecessary heroics.’

  ‘There’s no worries on that score. Jenny also mentioned Declan Murphy. She’s arranged for Cheshire’s Special Branch to mount obs on him, including static obs at his home. She only expects me to be in Ireland for two nights at most as MI5 hope to have housed McCrossan in Armagh by then, when I get back I’m to go straight over and assist Cheshire on the Murphy investigation.’

  ‘That’s good isn’t it?’ Debbie said approaching the stadium, ‘That means you’ll soon be back home doing work you’re more familiar with. I’ll park up here. What time is it now?’

  David glanced at his watch and said, ‘Nearly seven. They’ll be here in a minute. The other more disturbing thing she said was that I was to be careful when I go to Cheshire as it looks like McCrossan’s inside source could be an officer from Cheshire. I’m to trust no one in Cheshire’s Special Branch and I quote, “to tread carefully, keep my eyes open and my mouth shut”.’

  Debbie stopped looking in the skies for the helicopter and looked directly at David. Gently touching his cheek to reassure him, she said, ‘I’ll speak to Jenny and try and get more out of her regarding who is passing on the information so you know who to avoid before you go to Cheshire. For now you’re just to focus on McCrossan. He started all this and if it goes to plan he’ll be one less thing to worry about.’ As Debbie spoke, the sound of the helicopter could be heard in the distance and her mobile phone rang. ‘Hello.’

  ‘Stuart Stroud here Debbie. Is your man ready to be picked up?’

  ‘He is,’ she replied. Looking up to the western sky, Debbie saw the helicopter turn from a small dot into an identifiable object. ‘We can see you now.’

  ‘We can see the stadium. We’ll touchdown shortly.’

  ‘Thanks Stuart,’ Debbie said. She put her phone back into her handbag, leant across from the driver’s seat and kissed David. ‘Let me know when you get there and don’t worry about what’s going on here, you just look after yourself. If you’re working with Stuart Stroud you’re in safe company. He’s a good man.’

  As the helicopter slowly descended the last few feet to the ground, David’s phone rang. ‘Jimmy what have you got for me?’

  ‘McCrossan’s at Ivy Farm just outside Cullaville in Armagh . . .’

  David interrupted Jimmy O’Leary, ‘That’s fucking brilliant news Jimmy, but I’m in the middle of something right now. Text me the details and I’ll ring you later.’

  ‘Of course, good luck with whatever it is you’re doing and watch your back.’

  ‘That was Jimmy O’Leary,’ David said putting his phone back into his jacket, ‘He’s found out where McCrossan is, it’s Ivy farm in Cullaville, Armagh. Tell Jenny.’ Leaning over to the back seat, David picked up his overnight bag and kissed Debbie. ‘I love you Debbie Heron,’ he said getting out of the front passenger seat.

  * * *

  ‘Welcome to Belfast, you made good time,’ said the tall, gangly, bespectacled MI5 officer wearing a grey, slightly stained suit that was so crumpled it looked as though he had slept in it. David’s first impression was that he looked like a geek. ‘I’m your reception committee. I’ve got a car waiting for you over there on the apron,’ he said pointing to a blue coloured Ford Mondeo. As he spoke, David’s first impression of the officer was enhanced by the whiney tone of the officer’s voice. ‘We’ll leave the airport and go straight to the office in the city where you’ll be briefed.’

  The small, but stocky built Stuart Stroud got out of the helicopter first, followed by the second MI5 officer, Lisa Greening. On the flight over, Stroud was pleasant enough with David, keeping a conversation going. The flight was one of those awkward moments where on entering the helicopter at Manchester, David knew his presence changed the atmosphere inside the cabin. Not knowing them nor they him, Stroud tried to find some common ground to talk about that did not entail work. Not being one for small talk, David struggled to keep the chat going, but Greening hardly said a word. Throughout the whole flight he was conscious of her constantly staring at him. As hard as Stroud tried to be polite, David knew he was an unwelcome outsider and thought these officers must have had a similar outlook as Craig MacDonald as to why they would have to bring a plod along with them.

  Once in the car, the gangly MI5 officer got into the driver’s seat, switched on the ignition and put the car into gear. Just before he moved off, he picked up the car’s radio transmitter and said, ‘Pick-up made, on our way to you now.’ Mile after mile, not a word was said by the car’s occupants. Looking out of the window David’s large frame was hunched on the back seat behind the driver while resting his overnight bag on his knees. Breaking the tense silence, he said, ‘Going by the witty pace of this conversation, I can see this op’s going to be a barrel of laughs.’

  Sitting next to him, Greening said, ‘We’re not here for laughs DS Hurst, we’re here to do a job.’

  ‘It’s clear it’s a job you want to do without having me along,’ David said still looking out of the window.

  ‘Not at all David,’ Stroud said, ‘it’s been a long day and for one, I’m feeling a little tired after all the travelling.’

  Looking at David, Greening said, ‘And we’re not finished for the day yet. After the briefing, we’re to drive down to Armagh. This is a dangerous job you know.’

  David stopped staring out of the window, turned and looking Greening in the eye said, ‘And you don’t think I know that! If I’ve guessed your age right, I was dealing with PIRA when you were at school. Don’t start telling me how dangerous these bastards are. How long have you been in the service, a couple of years?’

  ‘That’s not your concern DS Hurst,’ Greening snapped back aggressively.

  ‘I think it fucking well is. If I’m going back on ops in bandit country, I’d like to know that whoever’s watching my back is up to the job.’

  Sensing the argument could get out of hand, Stuart Stroud said, ‘David has a point. We don’t know him and he doesn’t know us. I do know of your extensive experience of dealing with Irish groups David. I also know that you received death threats from former PIRA operatives and that you’ve had some unpleasant encounters with them recently, including with our man, Sean McCrossan. That’s why we want you along.’

  ‘And what’s your experience of dealing with them?’ David asked.

  ‘To be honest, very little,’ Stroud said, ‘Just before the Good Friday Agreement came into play, I only had the one op and that was keeping an eye on leading Sinn Fein members. This is Lisa’s first time over here isn’t it?’

  ‘You know it is Stuart,’ Greening said, ‘but don’t worry DS Hurst, I’ve enough experience of dangerous situations to make sure you go back home in one piece.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it,’ David said, ‘it’s just that I get the feeling you don’t want
me here. I’d appreciate it if both of you would be straight with me, what’s your brief on this op that you’re not telling me about?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Lisa Greening responded angrily.

  Not rising to the bait of Lisa’s short responses, David calmly said, ‘When I spoke to Jenny Richmond she got the impression we would only be over here for forty-eight hours max. My experience of dealing with your outfit tells me that you’re holding something back. Is it more than just a simple housing of McCrossan and keeping obs on him to find out who he’s sending over to London?’

  ‘Essentially what you say is what this op’s all about,’ Stuart replied, ‘but I suppose it would do no harm to tell you now . . .’

  Before he could say anything else, Lisa interrupted Stuart. ‘Stuart, you know it’s strictly on a need to know basis.’

  ‘I fucking knew it,’ David said shaking his head.

  ‘No, it’s not what you think David,’ Stuart said, ‘once we’ve housed him you’re to point out McCrossan, identify any of the contacts he makes then you’re to return back to Manchester and leave the rest of what needs to be done to us.’

  ‘Why didn’t you say so,’ David said, ‘I’m happy with that. For your information my snout rang me just before you picked me and gave the address McCrossan’s staying at. I’ve had it forwarded onto Jenny Richmond so the Belfast office should have it by now. With luck I’ll only be with you the one night.’

  * * *

  ‘I think it’s time we met up. I need to know what arrangements you’ve got in place before we move onto the next phase. I’ve put my neck on the block on this and one or two of the others are getting the jitters. Sean’s been spotted in London and the security services laid a trap for him. Certainly after trying to kill Hurst and Adams Sean knows he’ll be under constant surveillance. So as not to jeopardise our plans, he’s gone back home. I’ve told Sean to keep his head down while he makes arrangements for someone else from our firm to take over his role in London. If it couldn’t get any worse, Rory bumped into Hurst in a pub in Liverpool last weekend. That Scouse bastard gave Rory a right kicking. It might be just coincidence Hurst was there, as the pub’s near to where his family lives. This streak of bad luck needs to be stopped, so I’ve suggested that all the boys keep their heads down for now. That includes me,’ Declan Murphy said over the telephone to his caller.

  ‘We haven’t got the luxury of time for you or your team to keep their heads down. Events are moving faster than what we thought at my end. You’ve no time to waste. What we don’t want is them to work out your involvement, where you are and what you’re up to.’

  ‘It’s too late for that. They’re onto me already.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘My man on the inside told me. Hurst is joining up with Cheshire’s Special Branch in a couple of days and they’re going to be watching me, and most probably the rest of the boys in the area.’

  ‘It’s definitely Hurst I’m up against again. If he’s not coming over to your area for a couple of days, use that time to put things in place. They can’t have much on you if they’re still setting up an operation on you.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be so sure. My man told me Hurst has gone over to Ireland to find Sean and take him and anyone else Sean’s with out of the game.’

  ‘Do you know who Hurst’s working with? They wouldn’t send him over there on his own.’

  ‘I assume he’ll be working with officers from Special Branch in Northern Ireland. Don’t worry, Sean’ll give them the slip. I rang him earlier and warned him. He’s moving out of the safe house in Armagh to another place Hurst won’t find. The difference this time is Sean’s on his own turf. As Hurst’s off of his, he won’t have enough knowledge of the area to move quickly enough to find Sean.’

  ‘But if he’s with Northern Ireland’s Special Branch . . .’

  ‘I won’t say any more, but trust me on this one, even the Northern Irish peelers will struggle to find Sean.’

  ‘Let’s hope so, because if they get him and any of his contacts, it won’t take the security services long to find out what Sean and his colleagues know. Get things moving as quick as you can in the next few days, then we’ll meet up. If they’re onto you they’ll be monitoring your calls soon so don’t contact me. I’ll ring you nearer the time to arrange putting the final bits into place. So far, I’ve managed to keep the security services focused on an Al Qaeda cell. If I’ve guessed right, they’ll be using most of their resources on the wrong targets. I can only keep this going for so long. If I’m going to potentially sacrifice my own position, you’ll do exactly what I tell you. Stay calm and get everything ready you’re end. If they were really onto you, Hurst wouldn’t be over in Ireland now. I think they’re still pissing in the wind over what you and your team are up to,’ the caller said.

  ‘I hope you’re right. Don’t worry about me. I was the brigade leader of the Tyrone Provo’s. I’ve been in worse situations than this,’ Murphy said, feeling he had to remind his caller he had plenty of experience of dealing with the security services and added, ‘don’t forget, in the old days we had to deal with RUC’s Special Branch as well as Army Intelligence and the SAS, and they were real bastards.’

  ‘I just hope that helps you get out of the fix you’re in. I’ll ring you in a couple of days. Remember don’t contact me unless something major happens that’ll affect our plans,’ and Murphy’s phone went dead as the caller terminated the call.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Crossmaglen, Northern Ireland,

  08.10 hours, Friday, 6th July

  Driving one of MI5’s unmarked Ford Mondeo’s south along the B30 towards Cullaville, memories of previous investigations he was involved in during the Troubles in Armagh came flooding back to David. Passing the telegraph poles alongside the road, he remembered the haunting homemade triangular warning signs that were nailed on them with the picture of a Provisional IRA sniper, underneath which were written the sinister words, ‘Sniper at Work’. They had long since gone, but he still had a fear of coming across road-blocks recent intelligence stated were carried out by the Real IRA in the area, just like the Provisional’s did the last time David was here. As he was thinking about it, one incident came back to him from the first time he assisted the RUC in the Province.

  ‘A penny for them,’ said Louise Dorman, a Belfast based MI5 officer. The thirty-one year old was born in Northern Ireland, but had no real memories of living in the Province during the Troubles. When she was two years old, her parents moved over to Britain where she was raised in Bristol. Pretending to be a married couple, she stayed the night in the same room as David at a hotel just outside Crossmaglen. That was where the pretence ended. David slept on a small couch in the hotel room, while Louise slept in the bed.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ David said, ‘I was remembering how it used to be when I last worked in this area and one incident in particular.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘I was over here to lift a PIRA suspect believed to be hiding in south Armagh wanted for offences in Manchester. I was travelling along a single track road to the farm believed the suspect was using with an RUC officer when we came across a PIRA roadblock. The RUC officer slammed on the brakes. As the car came to a halt, he slammed into reverse gear as the Irish terrorists realised the car was either plain clothes RUC officers or undercover British Army soldiers. Hitting the accelerator hard, the car’s engine screamed, as the terrorists opened fire, one of whom had a high velocity armourlite rifle with armour piercing bullets. I took my Biretta out.

  ‘With the car rocking as the RUC officer reversed I couldn’t return fire. There was nothing I could do. I could only watch in horror as two of the terrorists jumped into a car they had by the roadblock, while the other three ran up the lane towards the car. Being in reverse gear, the ability of the car to evade the bullets coming towards them seemed
limited until the driver approached a farm entrance. Slowing slightly, the RUC officer reversed into the entrance hitting the gate post. Then crashing the gears into first, he slammed his right foot on the accelerator pedal causing the engine to scream once more. As he took his foot off the clutch, smoke belched out from the front tyres, followed by an ear piercing screech as the drive gear engaged the front wheels.

  ‘By now there was a hail of bullets coming our way and the officer shouted to keep my head down. By this time the terrorists who ran after the car only seemed feet away. Driving out of the farm entrance, one of the armour piercing bullets crashed into the window of the back door behind me, causing glass to fly around the cockpit of the car. That was followed by a loud dull thump as another of the armour piercing bullets entered the boot and came through the rear seat into the dashboard of the car. At that moment it was simply a case of surviving and the RUC officer abandoned all caution and drove as fast as he could through the narrow country lane.’

  ‘It must have been scary then.’

  ‘Just a little. With my English accent, it wasn’t safe for me to be out here on my own in the nineties.’

  ‘You’ve got a strong Liverpool accent. I thought you lot in Liverpool got on well with the Irish?’

  ‘Well they do say Liverpool is Ireland’s second capital, and I’m half Irish on my mother’s side.’

  ‘Are you a Catholic as well?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘With a provenance like that, you should’ve been alright with the locals. In all seriousness, I can’t imagine what it must have been like then. It’s hard to believe this is a tourist area now.’

  ‘When I was last in this area, the countryside used to be dotted with Army towers. I soon found out why the Army needed the towers. Whether you were in the police or the Army, to travel safely, you had to go everywhere by helicopter. Even then, it wasn’t totally safe. The Provisional’s had surface-to-air anti-aircraft rockets they got from Libya. It only seems like yesterday, yet it’s so quiet now. You can see why tourists come here. Just look at these deep green fields and rolling hills. The countryside’s so beautiful you can see why Ireland’s called the Emerald Isle.’