by Amy Cecil
December 2016
In Cork City, former leader of the IRA southern commence, Aiden “The Beast” O’Driscoll, was shot and killed in the street by two masked gunmen.
DUBLIN – December 2016
Two gunmen ambushed and killed a former top figure in the Real IRA splinter group in the southwest city of Cork, the first slaying of its kind in four years in Ireland, police and witnesses said Wednesday.
“Holy shit, Dbag! What the fuck?” I can’t believe that all this is still going on and that my family is involved.
“Oh, there’s more,” he says as I continue to read.
January 2017
The New IRA Attempted to Kill A Police Officer in North Belfast Using an AK-47
February 2017
A Bomb Explodes in the Driveway of a PSNI Officer’s Home.
March 2017
A Roadside Bomb Exploded as an Armored PSNI Vehicle Passed in Strabane. The New IRA Claimed Responsibility for the Attack.
April 2017
A bomb was left outside the gates of a school – the New IRA is suspected.
June 2017
The Gardaí Siochana found 6kg of semtex in Dublin city believed to belong to the New IRA.
“Gardaí Siochana?” I ask.
“The national police service of Ireland.”
“Semtex? Is that what I think it is?” I ask, not sure I really want to know the answer.
“Plastic explosives.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Just then, Ryder, Doc, and Rebel join us. Rebel sits next to me and Doc sits next to Dbag. Ryder pulls up a chair at the head of the booth.
“What’s going on?” Rebel asks.
“Dbag was just showing me some of the recent shit that’s been going on in Ireland,” I say, indicating my displeasure.
“I was afraid of that,” Rebel replies sheepishly.
“What the fuck, Rebel? You knew all this shit was going on and you neglected to tell me!”
“I didn’t want you to say no.”
“You know I can fucking say no now, don’t you? What the fuck is happening to you? You’re turning into a fucking pussy. You know better than this.”
He shakes his head because he knows I’m right. I have no idea what the fuck is wrong with him. Ever since his family has been brought into the picture, he is like a different person.
It’s quiet at the table for several minutes and then Rebel breaks the silence. “So, are you saying no?” he asks.
Fucker. “No, I’m not saying no. Not because I want to do this or that I even think what we’re about to do is right. The only reason I’m doing this is because you are my brother, my cousin, and my friend. You’ve never asked this club for anything and I can see this is important to you.” He looks at me relieved until I add, “But don’t you ever fucking leave me hanging with just my dick in my hand again. You want something from me, you tell me everything and hold nothing back. You got it?”
“Yeah, I got it.”
“Good.” Turning to Dbag, I say, “Got anything else?”
“Yeah.” He hands me several pages of typed text. “Here is all the intel I have found on the British Security Forces and the British prisons in Northern Ireland.”
I scan the list quickly. Several things stand out, but there’s tons of information scribbled all over the page. Does he really think I have time to decipher this? “Care to explain?” I ask.
“Sure, boss. I did a lot of digging into the British Security Forces and what I’ve found is that half of all the top IRA men and women work for these security services. The IRA has a network of informants in public agencies such as social security offices and vehicle licensing departments.”
“You’re shitting me.” I look over at Rebel and say, “How the fuck do you people know who to trust?”
“Hell if I know.” Rebel shrugs.
Dbag continues, “After the Troubles, it was discovered that the IRA’s head of internal security also worked for British intelligence. Apparently one in every four IRA members is an agent for the British, rising to one in two among senior members.”
“Fuck! And the prisons?” I ask.
“There are only two that are relevant to us: HMP Magilligan in Londonderry and HMP Maghaberry in Lisburn. There is a third, but it’s a juvie.”
“Reb, you know anything about these prisons?”
“Dbag is right, the juvie is definitely out. They would never take my parents there, even if they thought it might be a good place to hide them since the prison would be unlikely. Bringing adults into a juvie prison would draw too much attention.”
“And the other two?”
Dbag steps in. “Maghaberry is a high-security prison, mainly housing adult males with long-term sentences. Prisoners are located in both separated and integrated conditions. Although it is not widely known, my expert digging did find that this prison also holds individuals sentenced and convicted of crimes against the crown, such as IRA members.”
Dbag continues, “Magilligan is a medium-security prison housing shorter-term adult male prisoners. It also has a low-security area for such prisoners who are nearing the end of their sentence.”
“Reb?” I ask.
“My gut tells me Maghaberry. I think we start there.”
“Do you think they’re being held there?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. But I think that is our starting point.”
“Ok. We go with your lead on this, bro.”
“Thanks, man.”
“So, we done?” I ask.
“Yep,” Ryder and Doc reply.
“Ok, boys. Enjoy the rest of your day. See you tomorrow at the house. Hawk is taking us to Buffalo.”
Chapter 7
Caden
The next morning I wake to an empty bed. What time is it? I reach for my watch on the nightstand and can’t believe what I see. It’s 10:15 am. Holy fuck, I haven’t slept this late since I was a teenager. What the fuck! I’ve got too much shit to do, I can’t afford to be sleeping the day away.
I get up quickly and shower, then grab my duffle bag and pack it with some clothes. I place my Glock in the side pocket of my cut and pack the KG-9 safely in my bag. I scan the room to see if I’m forgetting anything. Nope, all good, I think to myself.
As I come down the stairs I can hear the girls chatting quietly at the table. Ari is all packed and ready to head back to Gettysburg. Although she is happy to have her own car, she isn’t too thrilled with what I chose for her; it’s the car I bought when I was hiding out from the Satans. I promised her that I would get her a better car when she graduates; hopefully by then things around here will have quieted down.
“Good morning, ladies,” I say as I turn the corner into the kitchen.
“Good morning, babe,” Emma says as she saunters over to me and gives me a kiss.
I kiss her back and then ask, “Ari, are ya ready to go?”
“I am. Rebel was over this morning and helped me pack the car. It was tough saying goodbye, but he said that as soon as he gets back from Ireland he would come down and see me.”
“Oh, I bet he will,” I reply sarcastically. “Promise me you’ll be careful? You know I worry.”
“Yes, Caden, I promise. You tell me all the time that I drive like a grandma. I don’t think I can get any more careful than that,” she says smartly. I laugh. She has a point. Then she adds, “I was just waiting for you to get your butt out of bed so I could say goodbye before I left.” She walks over to me and gives me a big hug.
I can’t get over how much she has grown. She’s no longer a little girl. She’s a woman about to graduate from college. I hope she knows how proud I am of her. I know it was hard for her when Mom and Tyler died, so I did everything I could to keep her life as close to normal as possible. I did my best. And now I look at her and see that she has blossomed. I hug her back and kiss her on the forehead. “I’ll call you when I get back to the States.”
“Promise you’ll be safe.�
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“I promise.”
“Promise me something else?” she asks.
“Anything.”
“Keep Rebel safe. Please bring him home to me, Caden.” She sounds so scared and desperate. I want to make that promise and mean it, but after all that I’d been told yesterday about the IRA, I’m not so sure I can.
But I promise anyways, because that’s what my little sister needs from me. I know that she knows that I’ll do everything I can to keep that promise. At least she knows that I won’t intentionally let her down.
She gives Emma and Honey a hug and turns to leave with tears in her eyes. I know that she wants to stay. Having Emma back in her life has turned this house into more than just a house. She has made it a home for Ari and for me, which is something neither of us have had for a very long time.
For the first time, I see that Ari is actually going to miss being home. This place wasn’t much of a home for her in the past since I spent most of my time at the club. When she was home, she was usually here by herself. Having Emma here—and of course, me being here more now too—has changed things for us both.
As the time gets closer for me to leave, I begin to dread leaving. Not because I’m a fucking pussy, it’s just that I finally have my girl back; she’s moved into my home and has made it our home. We’ve been through so much shit over the last few months, but we got through it. And now she’s pregnant with my kid. The timing of this IRA shit really sucks!
Emma runs upstairs to get something and leaves me alone in the kitchen with Honey.
When I’m sure Emma is out of earshot, I ask, “Will you do me a favor, Honey?”
“Sure, Ice. I would do anything for you.”
“I want you to take care of Emma for me while I am gone. I have no idea how long we’ll be gone, and it’ll really make me feel better knowing that she has you as well as the club looking after her.”
“Ice, there’s no need for you to even ask that. Emma and I have built a true friendship and I’ve already planned on staying around here with her while you’re away. You don’t need to worry about her at all.”
Relieved, I reply, “Thank you. I knew I could count on you.”
“Count on her for what?” Emma says as she comes back into the kitchen.
“Not a thing,” I say.
“If you’re talking about having Honey babysit me, I think she’s beat you to the punch and has already planned on doing that.”
I laugh. “So you were eavesdropping?”
“No, I wasn’t, but I know you, Caden Jackson. For some reason you seem to think that I can’t take care of myself. So even though I can, I will indulge your insecurities and allow Honey to babysit me.”
I pulled her into my arms. “Fuck, I’m gonna miss you, girl!” She reaches her arms around my neck and I kiss her deeply.
When our kiss breaks, she says desperately, “I love you, Cade.” She knows that I’m getting ready to leave and although she’s trying to remain strong, I can hear the sadness in her voice.
“I love you more,” I reply as I lean in and kiss her again. When the kiss breaks, I say, “You have Hawk’s number. You call him if you need anything. His number one priority is you!” I turn to leave and realize that Honey is still in the room. I walk over to her and give her a slight hug. “Take care, girl—and remember your promise.”
“You got it, boss. Be safe!” she says.
Just then I hear a honk outside, along with the rev of a few Harleys. Hawk and the boys are here. I look back at the girls and say, “I gotta go.” I kiss Emma again and head for the door.
They’re waiting in the driveway for me. Rebel, Doc, and Ryder have already piled in the back of the SUV. I get in.
“Everyone ready?” I ask.
They nod. I look over at Hawk and say, “Let’s go.”
Hawk gets us to the airport in plenty of time. We get everything loaded and the plane takes off as scheduled. After about two hours into the flight, Rebel starts to get restless.
“What’s up, Reb?” I ask him.
“I don’t know, Ice. I’m just worried about what we are going to find when we get there.”
“Is there something you haven’t told me?” I ask. I feel that he’s been keeping something from me all along, but every time I have prodded him for more, he’s given me nothing. Rebel is far from being deceitful, but I think he is holding back some of the danger that we may encounter.
He takes his phone out and starts typing something into the search engine. Handing the phone to me, he says, “Dbag gave you a lot of info yesterday, but this is the one I can’t get out of my mind.”
Prison Officer Dies of Heart Attack in Hospital –
Adrian Ismay received serious wounds from a booby-trap bomb that detonated under his van in East Belfast March 4, 2016. It was determined that his wounds were the direct cause of his heart attack. The New IRA claimed responsibility and said it was in response the mistreatment of republican prisoners at Maghaberry Prison.
He takes the phone back and again starts typing. Handing the phone back to me, he says, “One more.”
February 2017
Dublin Hitman May Have Killed Former Real IRA Chief Aiden “The Beast” O’Driscoll -
Gardaí believe a former Real IRA boss was ambushed and killed by his old dissident republican associates in Cork. Gardaí suspect the gunmen are from Limerick or Dublin and that it was orchestrated by O’Driscoll’s former associates in an elaborate double-cross.
O’Driscoll was the former chief of staff of the IRA and was involved in a number of feuds with Dublin gangs. It is believed that he fell victim to a power struggle within the dissident republican ranks.
One source states that, “Based on the manner in which the killers fled from the scene, we believe this murder was planned very carefully.”
Up to four vehicles were used in the getaway, all going in different directions. A motorcyclist is believed to have operated as a spotter for the gunmen.
Two weapons—a sawn-off shotgun and a US-made Colt semi-automatic pistol—were seized from a property not far from where O’Driscoll was killed.
“Holy fucking hell, Rebel, does this shit ever end? And what is this New IRA? I thought you said you were Real IRA?” I say after reading the articles. He’d mentioned yesterday that there was recent violence, but nothing as recent as this. Some of those headlines are only a month or so old.
“The Real IRA merged with the Republican Action Against Drugs (RAAD) group and then called themselves the New IRA. But really, it’s all the same militant group.” He pauses and then adds, “Ice, trust me on this. I know this shit sounds bad. But once I get to Belfast and I can confirm that my parents are indeed being held in the prison, we can get them out and return home.”
“Rebel, this is a fucking prison!”
“Yeah.”
“And didn’t Dbag say this was a maximum-security prison?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
He’s pissing me off with these one-word answers. He’s attempting to be evasive on purpose. He knows where I’m going with this line of questioning and he knows I’m not gonna like his answer. But I need him to say it. “Do you hear me?”
“Yes, Maghaberry is a high-security prison,” he replies.
I look at him in disbelief. He’s talking about a fucking prison bust. “Are you fucking insane? You’re talking about busting two people out of prison,” I say.
“I know.”
“That’s it? ‘I know.’ That’s all you have to say to me?”
Again, he says nothing. So I repeat myself, “Are you fucking insane?” I pause and wait for some type of response, or at least a plan as to how he intends on accomplishing this. But again, I get nothing from him. “Rebel, I don’t know what you’ve got planned, but there is no fucking way I am getting involved in a prison break! Especially one in another country where I have nothing but the local MC as my back up.”
“It’s not what you think,” he says.
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�Well, you better start explaining, ‘cause that’s exactly what it sounds like to me.”
“Once we confirm that they’re being held there, we have contacts inside. Hopefully, they can get ‘em out—we’ll just need to get them out of Ireland to ensure their safety,” he explains.
“Hopefully? You’re hoping that someone can get them out?”
“Well, Ice, shit. I don’t know for sure. I won’t know anything until I get there,” he defends.
“So why haven’t your brothers gotten them out yet?” I ask, confused.
“Because I haven’t shared my thoughts with the rest of the family. As far as I know, I’m the only one that believes they’re there. And don’t ask me why I think that, it’s a gut feeling. I just know.”
“Do you think your mom is being held with your dad?” I ask.
“I’m not sure. The prison has been used to hold both men and women in the past, but currently it’s all male. But you can bank on that fact that if my dad is there, then my mom is there too.”
“Why?”
“’Cause there is one thing I have not told you about all of this.”
Oh, fuck … “What!” I yell. My irritation with him is reaching its boiling point. If he doesn’t come up with answers that I can live with, I’m gonna beat the living shit out of him right here on this plane.
“My parents aren’t just IRA radicals. When I say they are deeply entrenched in the cause, I mean they’re neck-deep in it.”
Now he’s being cryptic. “Rebel, man, if you just don’t fucking tell me everything now, I swear I will fucking beat it out of you.”
“I am! They’re top-ranking leaders in the organization. There has been a bounty on their heads for years. Most likely, they will be executed for past crimes if we don’t get them out fast. I know that they don’t practice capital punishment in the UK, but I don’t trust the assholes that have them. I wouldn’t put it past them to take matters into their own hands.”
Fuck! We are fucked beyond all recognition. “Well, shit. I sure as hell hope that you’re right about all this and it’s going to be an easy in-and-out job.” I spoke the words and God fucking knows that I want to believe them, but I know there is no way this is gonna be easy. Fuck! I’m ready to go home and we haven’t even fucking landed yet.
