by Matt Lincoln
He was smiling, but his hands were shaking, and there was a tremor in his voice.
“You care about him a lot, huh?” I asked.
“Course I do,” Seamus beamed. “He’s been my partner since he was a wee rookie, all bright-eyed and eager to please. To think he’s gotten so cynical now. He wasn’t always like that, though.”
“Oh, no?” I asked.
“Not at all,” Seamus laughed. “Don’t tell him I told you this, now, but there was one time when he locked himself into his own patrol car.”
“How did he do that?” Junior chuckled.
“Well, you know how the new ones lock automatically?” Seamus started. “Well, in Ireland, they do, at least. Anyway, Callahan was still a student when he first joined the Garda. He used to carry his books and stuff around in the backseat. One day, he parked the car at the little cafe and reached back there to get something, but I guess it had rolled onto the floor. He crawled inside to get it, and the door closed behind him. And, of course, he’d left the keys sitting in the ignition! So poor little Callahan was stuck back there yelling for help for a few hours. The other customers had to call the Garda to come and get him out.”
“Poor guy,” I laughed. It would be pretty embarrassing for any rookie cop to trap themselves in the back of their own car.
“He used to be a lot more cheerful,” Seamus hummed. “But, then the job got to him. It’s normal, of course. We see a lot of awful stuff, especially in the northern end of Dublin, where we’re stationed. I just wish he’d learn to take a break now and then.”
“You remind me of my mentor, Harry,” I admitted. “He says that kind of stuff to me all the time. He was the one who encouraged me to become a cop, too. We were never partners, but he was on my back enough that we might as well have been.”
“Is that right?” Seamus chuckled. “Well, you can’t blame us old guys for wanting to look out for the younger generation. Paying it forward, and all that.”
“I am glad he’s okay,” I reiterated. “But we had something else we wanted to discuss with you, too.”
“Oh?” Seamus prompted.
“It’s about the Tinahely Fire Chief,” I continued. “I found some documents in the castle that might have been important. I asked the firefighters to bring them to the police station, but they never made it. The chief claimed they were lost and made some cryptic comments about the walls having ears and warning us not to ask questions. Do you know what that could have been about?”
“No,” Seamus replied in shock. “I have no idea why he’d say something like that unless he was involved somehow. Is that the feeling you got from him?”
“No,” I replied honestly. “If anything, he seemed really nervous and scared, like he really believed someone was after him.”
“I see,” Seamus frowned. “I’ll look into it, then, as soon as I have some time. I want to stay here with Callahan for a while longer.”
“Of course,” I nodded.
We left just a few minutes after that. The sun was just beginning to set, and the sky was changed from blue to a rusty orange.
“Nelson arranged a rental car for us,” Junior informed me as he tucked his phone into his work bag. “I called to let him know about what happened with the fire chief. There’s a little rental place about half an hour from here. We can take a taxi there, but it’ll be better for us to have our own car for the rest of the time we’re here.”
“Okay,” I agreed as Junior called a taxi to take us over to the car rental place. We were still in a remote enough area that it took twenty minutes just for the driver to pick us up, so by the time we got to the city where the car rental place was, the sky was dark.
The car dropped us off in front of a small building. Behind it, I could see a large parking lot filled with a variety of vehicles, and I wondered vaguely what Nelson had rented for us.
“Good evening,” a short man with thick red hair greeted us as we entered the establishment. “How can I help you gents today?”
“We’re here to pick up a car,” Junior informed him. “Agent Chapman and Agent Hills. It would have been reserved by an Agent Nelson with MBLIS.”
“Ah, of course,” the man nodded. “Yes, you’re lucky we happened to have an automatic in the back. Most of the cars in Ireland use manual shift, you know.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that,” Junior remarked.
“Yes, indeed,” the man nodded. “Anyway, just sign here, and I’ll take you to her.”
I watched as Junior leaned forward to sign the documents. The man thanked us and led us through a door in the back of the office.
“Here she is,” the man announced once we’d reached the car. It was an unassuming blue sedan, save for a tiny detail I hadn’t thought about until that moment.
“Oh,” Junior blinked as he looked at the car. “Right. The steering wheel is on the right side.”
“Well, of course it is,” the rental clerk beamed. “We drive on the left side of the road here. You did know that, didn’t you? I’d rather not have you boys wrecking my cars, now.”
“Of course we do,” Junior hurried to reassure him. “It just slipped my mind.”
“I’m just pulling your leg,” the man chuckled. “Anyway, safe travels then. Just drop her off at any of our branch locations whenever you’re finished.”
The store clerk walked away, and I turned back to the car. As federal agents, we both had international driver’s licenses that allowed us to drive while in foreign countries, but that didn’t mean we actually had the skills necessary to do so. Driving on the left side of the road seemed daunting enough, but doing so while sitting on the wrong side of the car sounded even more difficult.
“Not it,” Junior called as he climbed into the passenger seat.
“What?” I demanded as I snapped out of my own thoughts.
“I’m not driving this thing,” Junior shrugged. “I don’t want to be the reason we die on this mission. And my arm’s hurt, remember? Ow, I can barely move it.”
I leveled him an unimpressed glare. I couldn’t really blame him for being apprehensive, though. Regardless, we needed to get back to Dublin, and we couldn’t keep relying on other people to give us rides, especially after the way Felton and the fire chief had acted so cryptically.
“Fine,” I huffed as I climbed into the driver’s seat. It was disorienting to be sitting on the right side of the car, especially since the gearshift and center console were all on my left now. I wasn’t about to let something this insignificant get the better of me, though. Everything else was still in the same position, including the foot pedals, so I would just have to get used to driving on the left side of the road.
It ended up being a lot easier than I thought, especially since the roads out in the countryside were almost entirely empty. It wasn’t until we made it back to Dublin that I began to get nervous. On several occasions, I had other drivers honk or stick their heads out of their windows to swear at me when I would suddenly come to a stop or hesitate before making a turn. I just tuned it all out. Being harassed by drivers experiencing road rage was something I dealt with pretty frequently in Las Vegas, so I could easily brush it off.
I was driving so carefully that it was completely dark out by the time we made it to the parking garage closest to our hotel. I chose a spot on the ground floor close to the door and released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding as soon as I was finished parking.
“That’s the slowest I’ve ever seen you drive,” Junior quipped as we climbed back out of the car.
“You can drive next time if you want,” I retorted as I took a moment to stretch the tension out of my shoulders. I hadn’t let the situation beat me, but I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t been nerve-racking. I’d been worried I’d accidentally turn onto the wrong side of the road and accidentally crash into someone the entire time.
“No, thanks,” Junior replied easily as he led the way out of the parking garage. The evening air was cool and pleasant, and even
though night had fallen, the city was aglow with soft, warm light as street lamps and storefronts illuminated the street.
“Should we head back to the hotel and call it a day?” I asked. “It’s pretty late. We’re also at kind of a dead-end without those files.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Junior muttered.
It was frustrating to think that something so important had managed to slip out of our grasp so easily, and it must have been important if it suddenly disappeared so mysteriously.
“You know what? Let’s go get a drink first.” I clapped Junior on the back. “We’re in Ireland, right? It would be a waste not to hit a pub while we’re here.”
“Alright,” Junior agreed readily.
We wandered around for a few minutes as we decided which bar to try. It seemed that there was another one every few feet, and the choices were overwhelming.
“How about that one?” Junior suggested as he nodded toward a pub located at the corner of two narrow streets.
It was painted a bright, shiny red, and the words “The Temple Bar” were emblazoned across the front of it in yellow letters. A neon sign in the front window advertised traditional Irish music, and even from the street, I could hear the sound of stringed instruments and singing voices.
“Let’s go,” I shrugged as I ducked into the bar.
The inside was extremely crowded and extremely loud. Somewhere toward the back of the bar, I could hear a band playing, but their voices were faint against the noise of the crowd. People were gathered in clusters around tables and against the bar, and all their voices merged together into an excited din that rang throughout the pub.
The bar at the front looked like something out of an old western movie, down to the darkly stained bar top and wooden stools and the bottles of amber-colored liquid stacked precariously against the wall. I shoved my way through to the front and quickly ordered two beers. The bartender worked quickly and prepared the drinks with expert precision before thrusting them toward me. I paid and turned to look for Junior, who had disappeared into the thick crowd.
“Charlie!” I heard someone yell over the thrum of noise, and I turned to look further into the bar where the voice had come from. I spotted Junior sitting at a tiny table shoved against a back wall and weaved my way through the crowd to get over to him.
“I’m impressed you found a place to sit so quickly!” I remarked as I set the beers down on the table.
“I saw a couple of girls get up!” he shouted with a shrug as he pulled one of the glasses toward him. “I moved in as soon as I saw the opening. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.”
“It’s fine!” I replied. We were literally yelling at each other, but I still felt relaxed. The chaotic atmosphere was actually kind of fun.
The pub was peculiar in its construction and was interspersed with indoor and outdoor sections. I could see several people sitting in a patio area that was still somehow inside the bar, as though the building had been built with an open space in the center.
By now, several people were singing along to the song the violinist on the small stage was playing, and a few were even up and dancing. The lights in the bar were dim, and it was easy to become intoxicated by the joyful atmosphere.
“So, where do we go from here?” Junior asked after taking a sip of his beer. “We know that the person we’re looking for is most likely in Dublin, but that’s pretty much all we have. He could be in here right now for all we know.”
“I’m not sure,” I admitted as I took a sip of my own beer. “I was really hoping those files would lead us to something.”
“We were naïve,” Junior grumbled. “It was stupid of us to head there with just two cops as backup, and it was stupid of us to let our guard down just because everyone’s been so friendly.”
“We won’t get anywhere beating ourselves up over it,” I responded. “Hindsight is twenty-twenty. Right now, we need to focus and figure out what to do next.”
“I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something we’re missing!” Junior yelled as the crowd grew more rambunctious. “Daly actually seemed surprised when we told him about the address we found on the package. I was bluffing about there being a traitor among their ranks, but now I’m wondering if that’s really the case.”
“You might be right!” I yelled back. It was getting annoying trying to scream over the sound of the surrounding crowd. “They obviously weren’t expecting us, or they would have prepared better so they wouldn’t have to set their own base on fire.”
“Hey!” A voice roared over the noise of the crowd and distracted me from my conversation with Junior. “All of you shut up! Something’s going down on the news!”
I looked up as the crowd began to quiet down at the man’s exclamation. The man who had spoken was tall and bald, with an impressive red mustache and beard that trailed down his chest.
“What are you on about?” one of the drunk customers slurred.
“You shut your trap, or I’ll toss you out,” the bald man warned as he marched toward the television mounted over the front wall of the bar. He lifted a remote and clicked it to life, and by now, the noise of the crowd had settled into a low murmur.
“What’s going on?” a woman cried as the bald man hastily flipped through channels.
“Something’s happening with the news broadcast,” he explained. “Someone’s taken it over, and they’re streaming some spooky message.”
Curious chatter broke out among the crowd as people speculated as to what could be happening.
“It’s probably some eejit playing a prank,” one man scoffed.
“Do you think it’s some kind of publicity stunt?” another man asked. “Aren’t movie studios always doing crazy things like that?
“Hush up!” the bald man barked as he finally found the correct channel. It was staticky, and I could just barely make out the image of a news studio as the image crackled into and out of focus.
“… in time, then you’ll be able to find him,” a voice spoke through the screen. “If not, the bomb will go off. You have twenty-four hours left before the timer attached to the bomb reaches zero.”
“What did he just say?!” a woman screamed as soon as the voice finished speaking.
“He said something about a bomb!” a different man yelled, and in the next moment, the crowd broke into a panic as people stood from their chairs and scrambled to get out of the bar.
“Shut up!” The bald man roared as he lifted a wooden chair and smashed it into pieces on the edge of the stage. The sound caused everyone in the bar to stop dead in their tracks. “He’s starting to talk again!”
Every eye in the room turned toward the TV as the voice crackled to life again.
“I’m disappointed in you, agents,” the voice sneered. My blood ran cold as I heard those words. The voice was high pitched and was undulating unnaturally, but I could still hear the menace behind the words. “I set everything up so perfectly for you, and you let them all slip away. After everything that’s happened between us, I never expected you to be so pathetic.”
“What is he talking about?” the same woman from before shrieked.
“Donna, be quiet!” one of the woman’s friends hissed before turning her attention back to the screen.
“I’ll give you another hint,” the voice chirped. “But you’d better hurry. I’ve hidden a note somewhere in Dublin. You can consider this a treasure hunt. After those hacking skills I observed in Japan, I’m certain this won’t be a problem for you.”
I turned to look at Junior, whose eyes were wide with confusion and fear. There was no doubt that the voice was speaking to us, but I couldn’t understand how this was happening.
“I’ve written the name and location of the man you’re looking for on that note,” the voice continued. “But I’ve also attached an explosive device to that note. You’re familiar with bombs, aren’t you?”
There was an unmistakable mocking tone in the man’s voice, and I balled my hands up into fist
s reflexively as I thought back to the explosion at our headquarters not long ago.
“If you can get to the bomb and defuse it in time, you’ll be able to find him,” the voice explained as it repeated the exact words we’d heard earlier in the broadcast. “If not, the bomb will go off. You have twenty-four hours left before the timer attached to the bomb reaches zero.”
The pub broke into a panic once more as people began to shout and run for the door. The broadcast restarted again but was suddenly cut off a few seconds later and replaced by a standby screen.
“We need to go,” I muttered blankly as I stood up from my chair. I had barely even touched my beer, but I had suddenly lost any desire to unwind. Junior got up and followed me out the door. We went with the flow of the crowd as it spilled out onto the street. It was obvious that we weren’t the only ones who had seen the broadcast, as there were people all along the strip shouting about what they had just seen.
“This is bad,” Junior remarked as we looked around at the chaos erupting on the street.
I restrained myself from making a sarcastic comment in return. Obviously, this wasn’t good, but I couldn’t blame him for being shell-shocked right now. This was obviously way bigger than we’d anticipated, and the stakes had suddenly become much higher.
“We need to call Wallace,” I rasped.
The perp had threatened to set off a bomb “somewhere in Dublin.” As far as capital cities went, Dublin wasn’t huge, but it was bustling with people, and someone could easily cause a massive amount of death if they targeted the right place. Even the pub we’d just been in had been overflowing with people. We only had twenty-four hours to prevent a potential tragedy.
23
Fiona
I leaned back in my office chair and stared at the hairline cracks spider-webbing their way across the glass walls of my office. I wasn’t sure what Howard had used to smash it in his attempt to break into my office, but whatever it was, I was glad he hadn’t been able to get in. I’d locked it out of habit when I left to buy coffee for Nelson and myself, and I was immensely grateful that I had. If Howard had destroyed my equipment, I wouldn’t be able to help Charlie and Junior figure out who was behind that mysterious broadcast.
