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

Jack got out. Very subtle , Jack thought.
They couldn’t have been any more obvious unless they had actually
driven into the police station itself. Jack walked up the small hill to
the top of the Main Street. He closed his eyes and called up the hand
drawn map that had been shown to him briefly earlier that day— down
Main Street and turn left , Jack recollected. Sure enough, the harbour
was found exactly where he had been told. Jack walked down a dozen
steep stone steps towards the harbour. Jack’s heart skipped a beat. The
harbour was small but very deep—just not deep enough to float a boat
whenever the tide was out, and that is exactly what alarmed him. Jack
checked his watch. The container ship would be passing in the next
half hour and after an hour it would be out of reach.
Jack hurried to the
other side
of the harbour where the entrance
was. He looked down at the water in the entrance in an effort to study
how it was flowing—if the tide was coming in then he still
might
have time to make the intercept; if it was still going
out then he was
screwed. Jack swore under his breath. The water wasn’t moving at all.
The tide was on the turn but only just. Jack looked across the harbour
at a pub. The pub came within yards of the harbour wall and it would
be the perfect
place for Jack to wait for the tide without raising too
many
questions. He resolved not to engage in conversation with any
of the locals if that was at all possible—in the cities such as Lisburn,
Londonderry and
Armagh, territory was clearly
demarcated, and he
knew
exactly what to say in conversation;
out in the towns and villages
of the countryside the situation was not as clear—which was
odd as most of the terrorists from the Republican were from a rural
    background. The Loyalists mainly recruited in the ghettos of Belfast
and the rural Protestant population did not approve of their activities
to the same extent. The events
of that
day would change the minds
and hearts
of that
passive Protestant
majority and set into motion a
tolerance for violence that would
bring the country to the brink
of
civil war.
As he made his way
back to the other side of the harbour he noticed another
set
of
stone steps,
on the
ocean side. Jack
climbed the steps and he came across a short granite pier.
of the pier there was a brass warning bell which used to be struck in
times
of
fog
before
modern
electronics took
up the slack. The
bell
swayed gently
on the breeze and it sounded almost imperceptibly, as
if it were the ghostly sound from a time long since passed. The sound
unsettled Jack.
Jack walked to the edge of the pier and he looked down. A small
boat was bobbing up and down in the water dangerously close to the
rocky sides
of the pier. There was
one man on the boat, and in Jack’s
opinion there wasn’t much room for too many
more men. The man in
the boat looked up at Jack and he grinned widely before speak.
“Do you want a lift, boss?” the stranger asked.
The man in the boat was either inappropriately friendly towards
strangers,
or he was the skipper
of the craft he was looking for. Jack
opted for the latter
option and he carefully
began to climb
down a
metal ladder that was attached to the pier. The man steered the boat as
close to the wall as he dared which left Jack with a backwards jump off
the narrow ladder into a moving boat—he felt certain that it wouldn’t
end well. Jack landed heavily in the boat and the friendly
expression
quickly dropped from the man’s face.
“Are you trying to sink her, boss?” the man asked.
“Sorry about that,
but I
didn’t
exactly
have another choice,” Jack
said, firmly.
“Never mind boss, you are in and we are still floating. That’s half
the battle,” said the man, as the smile returned.
The small
outboard engine
on the back
of the boat roared at the
top of its voice as the boat turned and they headed out into the open
water. Once they were well clear
of the harbour Jack turned to the
    cautiously
At the