Deadly States (Seaforth Files by Nicholas P Clark Book 2) Read Free

that were up and running were only concerned with vehicles heading towards the town. Nothing like closing the door after
the horse has bolted, and blowing the stable up, Jack thought. A few
miles away from the bomb that Jack had just
detonated and there
wasn’t a
policeman or soldier to be seen.
It was a glorious
pain,
suffering
and
History
would remember that day for a very long time, but for Jack,
the full force
of that scrutiny
had not yet begun. How could such a
heavenly
question,
place fall foul of such self-destruction? It was an often-asked
and
having
spent
some years
with
the
most
extreme
elements of that
    day, and completely
out
of sync with the great
death
that
had
descended
across
the
island.
society Jack knew the answer to the question—because they knew that
they were right.
The green unmarked Ford in which Jack was a passenger was not
the fastest car in the world; it was solid to the point
of immobilising
rigidity, but apart from a fully armour plated vehicle, it was the only
commercial vehicle that
offered any
kind
of protection against a gun
attack,
or roadside explosion—it was the car
of choice for members of
the security forces when they were off duty but to the keen eyed terrorist it
only served to make the job of selecting targets a lot
easier. Jack
was not happy with the car chosen to take him to his next stop, but it
was the only unmarked car available outside of Belfast—he didn’t have
time to wait for a different car to arrive from the capital.
The small fishing village of Annalong had not yet received the news
that an influential member of the Royal family had been blown to bits
on
his fishing
boat in the Irish Republic,
but there was some buzz
about a
massive
explosion further along the coast at
Warrenpoint.
There was some speculation about fatalities, but no one in the village
could have imagined in their worst nightmares that another nineteen
people had been
killed.
As the good people
of
Annalong went about
their daily
business with the terrible events coming to them in small
drips, they were completely unaware that a man intimately connected
to the terrible events of that day had just driven into town.
Almost an hour
had passed since he blew up the lorry,
but Jack
was still reeling from the events earlier in the day—he had been shot
at and almost
blown up and instead
of the well
earned rest that he
needed at the end
was being sent
out
of the hardest undercover
operation
of his life, he
once again into the unknown. With twenty people
dead Jack could never view his efforts on that day as entirely successful,
but with two massive bombs
destined for
busy
shopping towns
intercepted, the people in charge were of a different
opinion. The IRA
and the British security forces were both in a state of turmoil and the
hours and days that were to follow would be the most dangerous in
the history
of the conflict as both sides rushed to make the next decisive move. The simple truth of the situation was that they had no one
else in such a strong position within the IRA as Jack, and as Jack sat
in the back of the unmarked police car
on the way into
Annalong he
wondered if that was the plan all along—he also wondered how much
help he would receive from MI5 after what he had just done to one of
their agents. Still, it was worth it, he concluded. His masters back in
London were going to get as much use out of him before they set him
free as they possibly could, and if that freedom came with his death,
so be it. It would do no harm for one of them at least to feel what it
was to really suffer. This was not a game to be played out
on some
antique desk in an office back in London—it was real and dangerous
and it hurt like hell. Perhaps the agent would remember that the next
time he blithely asked someone like Jack who had sacrificed so much,
to sacrifice even more. Jack doubted that lesson would ever be learned.
The dark green Ford pulled alongside the heavily fortified wall of the
village police station and