BlindFire Read Free

about those nails.  The dirty bitch must have cut herself to shreds. Who did you get it off of any way? "
      Private Jones laughed and turned the television off.  “Driver Tyler in the stores, he’s got loads of films… Ah well, I think we’d better get going now."
      "Another five minutes won’t hurt Jones."
      "Come on Smudge, the Motorola isn’t even switched on. What if they gave us a radio check or something?"
      The Lance Corporal lit another cigarette.  "Nothing ever happens, chill out mate and put the kettle on!"
      The Private braced himself.  "No, I want to go...! Now..!"
      T he building suddenly shuddered and then shook violently as three massive explosions tore through the structure. F lames , hungry for oxygen, leapt fifty feet or more into the air engulfing the glowing night sky. While a blazing inferno incinerated everything in its path a super heated blast tossed soldiers and furniture around like tissue paper in a fire storm.
    Walls suddenly cracked and then buckled as entire floors collapsed into rubble, burying any soldiers unlucky enough to remain alive. Debris, Unrecognizable and flaming dropped from the sky like meteors starting smaller fires all around . T he shock wave shattered windows in all the neighboring buildings as s creams of the dying echoed amongst the   moans and cries for help . A stench of charred death seeped throughout the ruin as an eerie silence finally descended.
      Like  a  spirit  with  a  mind  of  its  own  the  black  smoke   drifted  off  on  the  current  of  a  winters  breeze. Revealing more carnage, more misery and death.
    ***
     
       "Is that the Police?"  A Muffled Irish voice said into the handset.  "As  a  representative  of  the  Provisional  Irish  Republican  Army  I hereby  except  full  responsibility  for  the  blowing  up  of  Buller Barracks in Aldershot. The code word is Green Dragon."
      He  hung  up  quickly,  no  telling  how  fast  calls  can  be  traced  these days, he  thought. Then he put another coin in the slot and dialed the number for his Irish contact.
    “It’s Jack... The job’s done!”
    “Wait a minute Jack; for God’s sake don’t put the phone down.”  Pleaded the voice at the other end.
        Jack sighed heavily. “What is it this time? If  it’s  another  job  you  know  what  you  can  do! We’re coming home!”
      “No.”  Interrupted the contact. “....It’s really bad news. It’s your wife mate...! She’s been killed … You need to come home! ”
      Jack thought and prayed that he had heard it wrong. “What?” He whispered incredulously, hardly believing the words he was hearing.
      “The fecking Brits killed her mate..... She was on a job! I heard she was shot by some feking Para !"
      Jack  felt  faint  and  suddenly  he  was  on  his  knees,  the  phone  dangling  by  its  cord.  "Job? What Job? She works in a corner shop for Christ sake! Oh God..... No... No."  He sobbed. "Bastards…!"
      He stood and stumbled backwards, collapsing on to a wooden bench.  "You bastards."  He screamed at the top of his voice. ".....You British murdering bastards."  And then tears streaming down his stubbly cheeks and sobbing quieter.  "You killed her, you killed my girl!"
      Jack Mckay was still slumped on that bench three hours later, sobbing and mumbling incoherently, when he came to the attention of a passing police patrol car .
    ***
     
    2

 
    BlindFire
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER    2
    Ten years later…
     
     
      Sunday  November  Tenth  had  started  out  as  quite  a  pleasant  day. The  hazy  winter  sun  had  fought  all  morning  to  hold  the  dark  clouds at  bay .  By  the  time  Danny  Stone   had  run  two  miles  the  sun  had lost  i ts  epic  battle  and  the storm   had  set  in.  Drenched Germans dove for cover in doorways and bus shelters as the