Terror Illusion

by James R Conway

The trio found some comfortable seats in the ship’s bar and Mac gave Jonathan his debit card and asked him to get the drinks. While Jonathan went on his mission, Mac and Sean settled into the armchairs.

  “We go back quite a few years, you and me, Mr. Fergus,” said c01Sean in a soft Irish lilt.

  “We certainly do, Sean,” said Mac. “What do you think about joining our little organization? I think we could use some of your skills. You seem very good with electronics and communications.”

  “I suppose it means coming over to the good side,” said Sean.

  “All sides think they are doing the Lord’s work!”

  Sean gave a hearty laugh. Jonathan returned to the group carrying two large single malts, two large Irish whiskeys and a pint of beer. He placed the glasses on the table, put the tray on the floor next to his chair and sat down.

  Holding up his glass, Jonathan said, “Here’s health to us.”

  While Jonathan took a sip of his beer and Mac took a sip of his single malt scotch, Sean raised his glass, saying “To us all!” and drained his first glass of whiskey in one gulp.

  “Sean is thinking of joining us, Jonathan,” said Mac.

  “Really? That is good news. Sometimes my little tricks need a good pair of knuckles as a backup!”

  Jonathan reached out at shook Sean’s hand.

  “But there is the little matter of Kings Cross,” said Sean.

  “Don’t worry, Sean” said Mac. “That little matter has been sorted out.”

  “Now how in the hell did you manage to do that, Mr. Fergus?”

  “I’ll explain that a bit later, Sean, but I’ve got a couple of housekeeping duties to look after before this ship docks. Give me your mobile phone.”

  Sean reached in his pocket, pulled out his mobile phone and handed it to Mac, who dialled a number.

  After a few seconds, Mac spoke into the phone “BBC newsroom? I want to tell you there is a bomb in the northbound tunnel at Kings Cross station. It has been made perfectly safe. It was placed there by an MI5 Special Forces Unit under the specific instructions of the Prime Minister.”

  Mac gave a codeword that was used by the IRA whenever they called in a bomb warning to verify that the warning was not a hoax. Then he ended the call.

  “I think this phone needs to end up at the bottom of the North Sea,” said Mac.

  “That was my plan,” said Sean.

  “Would you do the honours, Jonathan?” said Mac.

  Jonathan picked up the phone from the table and walked out of the bar with it. He threw it over the deck rail and watched it fall into the grey, turbulent waters of the North Sea.

  He returned to the bar. “Job done!” he said, and he sat down.

  “Right,” said Mac, looking at his watch, “we will be docking in Bergen in a few hours. We need to get organized. Sean, I think you ought to come with us and we can spend a couple of days talking things over.”

  “That’s a fair deal, Mr. Fergus.”

  “Thinking about those two spooks in the chain locker, I think it would be advisable to fly back to the UK, so we’ll get a shuttle bus to the airport and get a flight back. We will get a flight to London, then a connecting flight to Glasgow. I’ll get Karen to meet us at Glasgow with the Land Rover and we can go up to the castle.”

  Mac looked at Sean, then at Jonathan. “Does that work for everybody?”

  “Works for me,” said Jonathan.

  “I’m with you,” said Sean.

  “Can I use your phone, Jonathan?” said Mac. Jonathan passed over his phone. Mac called Karen’s number.

  “Hello Karen!” said Mac, “Mission accomplished. We’ll be on our way back to Scotland in a few hours. Can you get up to the castle and bring the Land Rover to Glasgow Airport? Roger will have a spare set of keys for the Land Rover and for the castle.”

  “Of course,” said Karen.

  “I think you’ll need to fly up to Glasgow and get a train on to Fort William. I’ll call you when I know what time we will land at Glasgow. We will need to connect through London, so I think you should have plenty of time.

  “Call me when you are changing planes in London.”

  “Will do. See you soon.” Mac ended the call.

  “We need to clear our stuff out of the cabin,” said Mac. “I’ll go and do that if you two want to stay here.”

  Mac left the bar.

  Sean turned to Jonathan and said, “Jonathan, how long have you been working for Mr. Fergus?”

  “Actually working for him? About two days. But I met him just after Christmas.”

  “Mr. Fergus and I go back a very long way.”

  “Yes, he gave me a bit of background on you while we were chasing you around the country.”

  “He did, did he? How do you come to be working for him?”

  “Well, look at that table.” Jonathan put Sean into a seizure and took the empty glasses back to the bar and returned to his seat. He brought Sean out of the seizure. “That’s how come I’m working for Mac.”

  “Now that’s the cleverest trick I ever did see,” said Sean. “I’d love to know how you did that.”

  “Trade secret,” said Jonathan, tapping the side of his nose with his index finger. “I’ll show you a few more tricks when we get back to the castle.”

  “I can see why Mr. Fergus would like to have you on his side.”

  Mac returned carrying the two suitcases.

  “How are you two getting along?” said Mac as he sat down.

  “Like a house afire, Mr. Fergus,” said Sean.

  Jonathan smiled.

  “Do you have a suitcase, Sean?” said Mac.

  “It’s in the baggage rack, just down there,” said Sean, pointing towards a corridor that led from the bar towards the stern of the ship. “I’ll go and get it in a few minutes.”

  The beat of the ship’s engines changed, indicating that the vessel was about to enter the port of Bergen. Sean went off to collect his bag and to the visible relief of both Mac and Jonathan, he returned to his seat. After a few minutes, an announcement on the public address system asked passengers to proceed to the exits.

  “Which of your passports will you are using today, Sean?” said Mac as the three left the bar.

  “To be sure, Mr. Fergus, you’re a funny man,” said Sean.

  They proceeded off the ship and they passed through the immigration and customs formalities without incident. MI5 had given Sean a new identity when they pulled him out of jail and his British passport now identified him as Matthew McConnell, a business man from Belfast. He had business cards and papers in his briefcase showing that he represented an engineering company making parts for the car industry. Once outside the port terminal building, they caught the shuttle bus, which would take them to the airport.

  Mac bought three one-way tickets from Bergen to Glasgow. As he had expected, there was no direct flight, and so they flew first to London Gatwick and then changed aircraft for the short flight to Glasgow. As they waited in the Gatwick baggage hall to reclaim their suitcases, Mac called Karen and gave her the flight number and arrival time of the Glasgow flight.

  “I put the heat on in the castle and I started out about an hour ago. I should be at Glasgow airport in another hour,” said Karen. “I’ll park and meet you in the terminal.”

  “Karen, you are an angel,” said Mac. “See you there” and he ended the call.

  Once through UK customs and immigration, they had about twenty minutes to wait before their flight to Glasgow, so they went on through security to wait near the boarding gate. Jonathan walked over to a shop and bought a collection of sandwiches, which he shared with the others. “I don’t expect we’ll get anything on the aircraft,” he said as he bit into a sandwich of smoked salmon and cream cheese.

  The flight left on time and just over an hour later, they were greeting Karen in the terminal at Glasgow airport.

  “Karen, this is Sean,” said Mac. “He will probably be joining our team.”

  Karen shoo
k Sean’s hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, Sean.”

  Sean smiled. “The pleasure is mine.”

  Karen led the way out of the terminal and over to the car park. They loaded their cases into the back of the Land Rover.

  “Do you want me to drive, Karen?” said Mac. “I slept pretty well on the plane.”

  “Sure,” said Karen, and she tossed the keys over to Mac.

  Karen got in beside Jonathan in the back seat. Sean got into the front passenger seat beside Mac and Mac started off.

  “It’s about two hours drive to the castle, Sean,” said Mac.

  “That’s just fine, Mr. Fergus,” said Sean.

  Within half an hour, Mac found that all three of his passengers had fallen asleep as he drove through the beautiful West Highland scenery. The weather was cloudy but clear and there was no rain. Mac was happy to be driving through his beloved Scotland with a successful mission behind him. He looked in his rear view mirror and saw that Karen was awake, but Jonathan had fallen asleep with his head in her lap and she was quietly stroking his hair.

  “I hope you put a bottle of champagne into the refrigerator, Karen,” said Mac quietly.

  “Two bottles, actually, and I put a joint of beef into the slow cooker as well.”

  “You are beyond an angel!”

  Just two hours after leaving Glasgow airport, Mac pulled the Land Rover into the driveway of McKinnon Castle.

  “Wake up you guys,” said Mac as he stopped the engine outside the front door

  They all got out of the car and Mac opened the front door of the castle and led them all inside.

  “I think us three all need showers and a change of clothes,” said Mac. “Karen, if you could throw some potatoes in the oven to roast, I’ll show Sean to his room and we’ll all meet you down here in half an hour.”

  Karen disappeared into the kitchen while Mac led Sean and Jonathan upstairs to their bedrooms. “Usual room for you, Jonathan? Your room is the third door down on the right, Sean. I’ll see you down in the Great Hall in about half an hour.”

  Half an hour later, Mac was popping the cork from a bottle of champagne and pouring four glasses.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, to a successful mission and a safe return home!”

  All four drained their glasses and Mac re-filled them. “What’s news on dinner, Karen? Need any help?”

  “No, it’s all under control. Should be ready in about half an hour.”

  “Good! Let’s all sit down and we’ll tell you all about our adventures.”

  They walked over to the armchairs around the fireplace. Karen had got a log fire going while they boys had been showering, and it was now burning brightly in the huge fireplace. When they had all taken their seats, Mac produced three envelopes and passed them round to Karen, Jonathan and Sean.

  “These are your wages for the mission.”

  Inside each envelope was a bundle of fifty-pound notes amounting in total to ten thousand pounds in cash in each envelope.

  “With my profound thanks for a job well done,” said Mac.

  Once again, Mac topped up their champagne glasses. He was just about to speak again, when the telephone rang. Mac got out of his chair and walked over to the phone. He looked at the screen showing the caller ID.

  “It’s Roger,” said Mac. “I think I will call him back in the morning.”

  Mac returned to his seat. “Now, Karen, where do we start?”

  THE END