Paddy Nemesis, page 19
- Ok, here goes, let's see if you can follow these words; you set up my dad who was onto yours and Patrick Wynn's operation. You claimed to be in Enniskillen that night he died, hungover and too sick to come in when in actual fact you followed him out and killed him. With me so far?
- You are fucking insane my man
- Oh you have no idea. Shall I go on?
- Please do
- Keeps me in here doesn't it if I do go on, not out there putting a bullet in Ronan's head
- Ronan?
Hard to talk through a clenched jaw, trying to remain as quiet as possible, keeping the conversation just between two friends
- I saw him in your car outside. I killed Patrick earlier. Convenient he was only up the road in Sligo eh? Don't you dare move a fucking muscle, keep your hands where they are and you listen to me boy. You, you fucked up my existence, you fucked up Sarah's, Michael's the whole fucking town for what? Notoriety? Money? News for you best buddy, best pal, matey; you're going to die tonight. It was an emotional moment for Pat and myself as I had a cut throat razor in the side of him mouth, it was poetic as he held onto me, a father and son moment. See I've forgotten them, you took them away from me. He told me about your little operation but never gave up your name. Loyalty amongst thieves eh?
- Then your barking up the wrong fucking tree Jack. Your word against a dead mans and I'm still none the wiser. Maybe Sarah was right all along. You should never have come back if this is the way you treat your best mate and his sister. If what you say is true then you are in a whole heap of shit and I've nothing to do with it or the coke.
- Who said anything about coke?
Panic in the streets of Carrick. I slowly shook my head as the ground opened up beneath Glen. No need for questions or answers, this wasn't a taped interview under caution.
Stalemate
- Who's in the bar?
- You don't fucking get it do ya? You said yourself a thousand times your Da was a cunt. The opportunity was too good to let slip by and I had to show my loyalty to Pat once your Da had declined the opportunity.
Stalling for fucking time
- Who's in the bar Glen?
- You'll never get out of here alive
- I thought it was only me who talked to myself. Do I? I'm not sure, do I?
His hands went under the table. I ducked down and lifted the table up on its side, knocking the empty glasses and ashtray over. The glass crashing and splintering on Glens side. I could hear him shouting in at the bar for whoever was in there to help him. This was mixed with the young one behind the bar screaming and I shouted out from behind the table to her to get down. I'd got my gun out from my jacket, unclipped the magazine, six shots left, took a magazine out of my bag, stuck it in my pocket and was glad to remind myself that James' gun was in the bag too and I started pushing the table with my shoulder, keeping the wall behind me as I made my way towards the bar. Fuck knows where Glen had got to or if he was still in front of the table but I didn't know what he had so I fire a couple of shots up into the air. Screams and hysteria with a soupçon of someone shouting out to call the fucking Gards
- I am the fucking Gards,- I shout back at them
I duck up and get a couple of seconds to see that Glen had scarpered and Ronan with one of his pals from Raffertys were baring down on my location. I made it to the bar and rolled round to my right kicking the table into their path. The hatch to the bar was two meters to my right and it was shut. I prayed to whoever it was who was up there that it wasn't locked and I dived for it.
It wasn't, shooting pains from the crown of my skull to my little toe but I'd forced the hatch door open and fell into the serving area of the bar. The barmaid was squat down with her arms covering her head and then from above the sound gunfire and of a million bottles of spirits shattering and the contents spilling down onto the both of us. In that second I knew that soon enough something flammable and very much on fire would be pitched over the bar.
In the words of an overweight lounge room lizard; it's now or never. I opened one of the fridge doors and grabbed at bottles of miller and started pegging them over in the direction of where the gunfire came from and then moved left knowing that they'd be moving forwards rather than back towards where the main bar.
The gunfire had stopped.
No idea where they were, the barmaid was whimpering and back in the main bar people were still screaming.
- Now lads I know what your thinking, one of me, two of you but sure that didn't stop me earlier did it? How's the nose Ronan?
Silence. The cunts not biting
- You know Michael's mine don't ya?
- Shut your fucking mouth you
Bingo, four O'Clock. Quick as anything I'm up on my feet pivoting to my left, safety off, Ronan is stood sideways to me, the first shot enters near the top of his right ear, red roses of blood blast out in spring like glory. The shot comes out the other side and hits his pal in the arm, the momentum knocking Ronan into him.
Ronan is yesterday's news and I raise my arm up to fire into his pal and I get him in the neck, a lump of flesh looking very much like a wee apple flys out and hits the wall behind him. He grabs for his throat and I'm leaping over the bar, placing the gun up to his forehead pull the trigger and the back of his skull opens up with brain matter making a mess of the floor.
Both lay dead in front of me, Ronan in a foetal position, a pool of claret spreading out from beneath his head, one round left in the pipe. I kick Ronan round so that he's laid out in front of me, still looking the dope with the side of his face blown away. He had fucked Sarah and fucked her over, no way was he getting what he wanted on the other side, I shot him in the groin.
Fuck you pal.
The empty clip dropped out onto the floor, I got the spare magazine out and slotted it in the gun, I then tucked it into the back of my jeans, buttoned up my jacket and walked back over to the girl behind the bar, crunching over broken glass, I grab a towel off the side, crouch down and offer the towel over to the girl, she's shivering, shocked, needing another job. I tried to calm my breathing, tried.
- Here, take this, dry yourself off, get someone to make you a sweet cup of tea, head home. Are you ok?
A brief nod then shake of head
- Sorry, I'm sorry. Those guys were the bad guys ok? I'm the good guy
Then eventually
- Yeah right, that fella you were chatting to was a Gard
- Yeah he was, wasn't he. He also killed my Da.
I left her entombed with fear, walked out of the hatch, round the bar to the two lads crouching on the floor. The lad with the clinical observation on domestic violence was rocking back and forth like a topsey turvey. Still hadn't forgotten how offended I was by his comment and how it much the girl behind the jump wasn't too pleased with it either.
- You ok?
- I think I've pissed my jocks
- Must be how your missis feels eh?
- Sorry?
- Exactly
And with a clenched left fist, I swing my arm round and hit him flush on the jaw, sending him spread eagled onto the floor.
His pal looks aghast at me and I make to hit him, feigning a punch, he flinches and slips over on his beer and his mates piss.
- Something to say?
- No
- Good. Did you see where that lad I was sat with went?
- He ran as soon as you tipped the table over. Who the fuck are you?
- Just a Paddy Nemesis my good man
- A what?
- Fuck sake where's the education gone, look it up. Is there an exit out the back?
- Yeah, it's out the back
- Funny. What's your name pal?
- Fintan O'Toole
- Live round here?
- Up the road
- Right, ok Fintan, listen closely cause I've no time to repeat myself. I'm guessing there's only one Fintan O'Toole in Carrick so do me a favour and tell the boys in blue when they come in that I left out the front cause if I get picked up by them I could only assume you told them where I really went and I'll come looking for ya ok?
- Yeah ok
- Grand so, g'luck and choose a better friend next time eh?
I got up and walked out toward the exit at the rear with Fintan mumbling, incoherent. I walked past Ronan, grey as the slate tiles he lay on and I stepped onto his face scrunching it like I was trying to put out smoke feeling the bone crunch under the pressure. I didn't even look back as I walked on and pushed the bar down on the door and through the alley at the back and came out onto the road.
Phone ringing, Glen
Answered and I say nothing, heaving breathing at the other end
- Ronan?
- Oh I'm sorry, Ronan can't come to the phone right now, no point leaving him a message, you can tell him yourself soon enough.
- Fuck
- Fuck indeed my friend
I could hear someone talking to him in the background saying five minutes, Glen put his hand up to the mouthpiece and told whoever it was to shut the fuck up
- Jack? Jack?
And I let him away chatting to the void of no reply.
- Don't do this Jack because it'll be you first then I'll go after Sarah then Michael
And I thanked God for modern technology because with that recorded, I would be able to tell Sarah why I did what I was going to do.
- I'd like to thank you Jack for your actions at Dunnes because now the cops will be dealing with that and far away from my little exchange.
And I started laughing, bent over with stomach cramps laughing
- What's so fucking funny?
Laughter stops
- The poetry of your last ever words and the fact that you think your going to see tomorrow
- Oh I......
Bang, phone down
I have the fucking last word here.
Chapter 23
Out - on the main street, a mist of oestrogen advanced towards me. A hen-do, about ten large, dressed like St Trinians school girls; hair in bunches, freckles, glasses, crisp white blouses a size too small for their cleavage which was struggling under the buttons, small pleated grey and black skirts, suspenders and stockings, heels more used to seeing the inside of a dungeon.
I had five minutes till the ship docked, 10pm must be when the truck would be able to leave the marina.
As the girls passed, the bride-to-be wearing tatty white veil with condoms and tiny plastic cocks attached tripped over on her ridiculously tall heels and fell towards me, I noticed one of her witches coven had helped her fall by pushing in my direction. I held out my hands to catch her, one hand caught her arm and the other missed as she flailed and I grabbed her breast, an instant flush of redness from me as I placed my hand on her other arm and she screamed out that I'd grabbed her tit and they all started laughing.
- Ah girls, would ya look at him, all embarrassed.
Another one
- Wanna have a feel of mine, look.
And the girl who pushed the bride lifted up her blouse and her bra to flash me her ludicrously big breasts and she shook them from left to right like a cheap, back-street pub stripper. I stood back, placed one foot on the wall took out a smoke, fucking cool Marlboro Man wannabe, I also wanted them to fuck right off so resisted engaging in any form of communication and just looked at the other side of the road, and smoked like I had no worries in the world
A loud crack rang from over the other side somewhere, and masonry from above me fell on the floor. Chips of red brickwork fell onto the bride to be's veil, and she twisted round and flicked as if wasps had landed on it. We all looked in the direction of the sound and the crack came again. The lady with the revealed breasts’ right arm exploded, and the bride's blouse was suddenly covered in crimson, then the screaming came again. I shouted to them all to get down, as they did, skirts rose up showing me more than sex education could ever have. I'd reached round for my Glock and with my right arm guiding the bride’s hand to her friends wound.
- Apply pressure and don't let go until the doctor tells you to do so. Get one of your friends to call for an ambulance and the others can tear off strips of their blouse's, wrap them around the wound, and then just keep wrapping until you don't see any blood seep through, but keep the pressure on. Go into the pub just over there
I was nodding back at Dunnes.
- And don't move from there until I come back for you. What's your name?
And I fired off a couple of shots in the direction of where the opposing gun fire was coming from, there were more screams and they ducked for cover.
- What's your name?
- Dervla.
- Dervla - my name is Jack, and I'm seconded to the Rangers but I work for G2. I'm here because right now a boat load of drugs is being offloaded in the marina and I've to stop it. My boss in Dublin is Chief Inspector Sean Daly OK? Can you remember that?
- What was that?
- It doesn't matter, just go, go.
As another shot came over and hit James' car I got my right arm out and around, guiding the pen of hens which looked like a fox had attacked them, and I was shouting at them to get into Dunnes. Pushing them onwards, telling them to keep their heads down. I shouted out to the trigger happy lad over to road:
- Will ya fucking hold up until the women get cover ya stupid cunt.
- Stop hiding behind them ya fucking coward.
I couldn't see him from where I was, but the voice came from behind a Peugeot 206. I was crouched under a lamppost like a fucking rent boy, easy target. All of the girls had got into Dunnes, and I dived to hide behind James' car and kept my right shoulder in contact with it as I followed it round the side and got a peek out at the 206 from the rear of the car. I had the fob for the car in my pocket, and knew that if I opened it, the indicators would flash and the lad would know where I was, or have a good idea of where I was going to at least. I couldn't smash the glass or the bulb because with the level of silence, a gnat could fart and we'd be able to hear it.
He fired again, I saw the flash, he was still behind the 206 but he thought I was 15 yards to my right..
Good thinking batman.
I fired two shots across his bow, and opened the boot of James' car at the same time. He returned fire at pretty much the same location he had fired at before. Stupid cunt mustn't have learnt much about angles at school, how the fuck could I have fired from where he thought I was - the sound was coming from his right, not his left. I hoped what I was looking for was in the boot as I reached into it blindly. Bingo. I unscrewed the jerry-can of petrol, full to the brim, fumes making feel light headed. What would the A-Team do? Nobody would die, that's the first thing to think about. I placed the canister on the ground, petrol glugging out onto the tarmac and pushed the canister over the road.
I stood up, stepped back and fired the remainder of the magazine into the trail of gasoline. It only needed two shots as the sparks engulfed the petrol and then played catch-up with the jerry-can, which ended up under the 206. The explosion knocked me back into Dunnes, the heat like a Cambodian summer holiday. All the glass in the windows had imploded into the bar, little cuts up my arms and face, my ears were ringing and I was disorientated. I looked around to see that the hen-do were up the back and unscathed. I tried to stand up, and fell back down onto one knee. I shook my head as if that would help restore the balance, using my hands to push me up off the floor. The fragments of glass penetrated my skin, the pain so intense I felt like I was in labour.
I pensively got back up into a standing position and brushed the dust and glass off my clothes, and picked some of the glass out of my hands.
I walked over to the hen-do, holding onto the bar rail, in case my legs gave way. The bride-to-be was holding onto what was left of her friends arm, all crying. The remainder of the women had torn off strips of their blouses and wrapped them around their injured friend, all in shock but maintaining some cognitive functions.
- Are you ok?
That to everybody and nobody.
- What do you think?
- You know, Carrick’s never normally this bad.
They all looked up at me with a sense of despair, not an uncommon look for me. All they wanted was a night out on the rip, have a laugh, meet some fellas and wake up next morning with a bad head and a desperate need to take the morning after pill - just in case. They spend 30 seconds with me and I'm caustic, royally fucking up everything for them.
- Barman a whiskey please, where is he?
- Fuck knows, nobody was in behind when we got in.
- Fuck it
I jumped over the bar, grab a glass, pour myself a generous measure of Jamesons and say a quiet prayer to world peace, them knock the drink back, finding my sea legs were where they always were. I go over to the bride-to-be.
- Remember what I said yeah?
- I dunno, remind me again.
In ear-shot of the group, I told them who I am, who my boss is, where I was based and that everything should go through Dublin if asked. I told them to stay put and not trust a single Gard. If there's a group of them, then do whatever they are told. I said if there's a fire, come walk with me.
I also apologised for their friend with the gun shot wound. I was asked if I was the good guy. I told them I wasn't sure if I was until a few hours ago, but I was yeah. Yeah I was - and for once it felt fucking good.
Now I was steady on my feet, I walked back out of the bar, the Glock feeling like an extension of my hand, the wind outside whipping up bits of paper smouldering from the car fire over the road. Sirens from somewhere, could be a fire engine from Boyle, could be the lads up from Dublin. Dare I say it, it could be the fuzz. Doubtful, I would imagine most are in on tonight's little soiree. So in actual fact it could be the cops. Glen was probably right about my little episode taking them away from the marina, putting the boot in on me and leaving me in a ditch somewhere with unexplained wounds.
So I walked away from the pub. No running. Was I fucking stupid - running may have been a sensible idea as time ebbed away? Probably, but I didn't want the group of civilians around the car seeing some lad running away from the scene down towards the marina. As the road went left, I crossed over so I was on the inside, eyes looking everywhere - behind me, in between vehicles, in shop doors, alleyways and then using those hiding place when people were walking towards me.
