Dancing With Mortality Read Free

few too many and was
sleeping it off. He took the flask of whiskey from his coat pocket and had a
small sip. Would need some alcohol on the breath to back that story up. But it
was a flimsy story and he felt a surge of anger towards Litchfield for dropping
him in the deep end. And he was scared. He wasn’t armed and he had no military
training. He felt exposed and defenceless.
     
    Now, after the lethal conclusion of
the SAS ambush, he wondered how the hell he’d allowed himself to be put in this
situation. And where was the man on the horse?
    Harry had been in Ireland for almost two years. Auckland was
a long way from ‘the troubles’, and although the IRA got some media coverage,
the struggle in Northern Ireland seemed remote and slightly surreal. He
couldn’t see it impacting on his decision to take some time to travel and study
abroad. He’d done exceptionally well in his modern languages studies, with a BA
and MA under his belt, and was recognised as a talented German and French
linguist. Irish presented a quite different challenge, as it was so
grammatically and conceptually different. Seeing it written, and looking
nothing like the languages he already knew, made him wonder just how ancient in
origin it must be. When his tutor had mentioned a scholarship at Trinity
College his interest had been aroused, and he’d been pleasantly surprised to
find out his application had been accepted.
    The plan was to do the post grad degree, travel around
Europe, and then return home. Natalie, who had recently finished her own MA in
clinical psychology, had bagged a contract through the Irish consulate in Auckland
to work as a psychologist assistant at St. Patrick’s hospital. And it was an
opportunity to travel regularly. They’d only been married six months, and it
seemed an ideal opportunity to get out and see some of the world before
settling down.
    The first year they had taken the chance to discover Europe,
spending that summer in France and Germany. They’d travelled between one cheap
hostel and another on their limited budget, using the rail links wherever they
could to find their way round the popular destinations.
    One evening shortly after their return and the resumption of
his studies, and just as he was leaving class for the day, he’d been approached
by Jack Hudson. Harry had noticed Hudson sitting in on lectures, and wondered
what the older man, who took no notes and seemed anomalous in comparison to
Harry’s studious and mostly twenty-something contemporaries, was actually doing
in an Irish lecture.
    Hudson was a lean man with a long thin face that had
delicately defined features. He sported very long feminine eyelashes, and was
immaculately dressed in a three piece pinstripe suit. He introduced himself to
Harry and proffered a card with a slender well manicured hand.
    ‘I work in security, Mr Ellis. We may have a vacancy for an
Irish speaker here in Dublin, if you’re interested. Part time of course, we
know you need to study. But the extra money will boost your income, and you
might find the work interesting too. Phone that number if you want to take it
further. Any time during office hours.’
    Then, before Harry had a chance to respond, Hudson had
smiled and walked away. So more out of curiosity than anything Harry had phoned
the number, and a few days later he found himself talking to Litchfield in a
local pub.
    Litchfield had donned his charming persona for the occasion.
They were sitting in a booth away from the other customers.
    ‘Harry, must confess we’ve got you here under slightly false
pretences. Oh, the job is real enough, but if you do decide to take it there
are certain undertakings we’ll need from you first.’
    ‘Such as?’
    ‘Well, firstly we’ll need a signature from you confirming
that any knowledge you acquire here is not to be disclosed to anyone outside
the office. Standard confidentiality stuff. And secondly, even though your
involvement will be limited to translating