'Who else but the bloody army. They can get what they want these days.'
Minogue stepped stiffly from the car. He was excited and nervous at the prospect of being whisked away into the night in this contraption. Kilmartin called out to him and he paused. Kilmartin half lay on the seat looking out under the window at Minogue. Looked like a child, Minogue thought.
'Matt. Don't bite any of your company in that whirlygig thing. Remember you're on the trip on sufferance. I'm a bit out of order insisting on you going along so don't poison the well for me. The Branch men will make the arrest and have him driven back to Dundalk most likely. I'll be arranging from this end that they give you a few minutes with him. You know this fella better than I do.'
'So: observe,' Minogue said
'Now you have it.'
Minogue recognised one of the men who had sat with him in Pearse Street listening to McCarthy. He walked over to Minogue.
'Are you the one who hit the button on this?' he said.
'Sort of, ' said Minogue, anticipating trouble.
'Be the living jases you must be some kind of magician. Would a bit of it rub off on me now?' he said.
Minogue smiled despite the excitement. It felt like he hadn't smiled for days. He fleetingly recalled the moments in Bewley's, the talk around the tea-table at home: worlds away.
He followed the Special Branch men out through the building to a tarmacadam pad. Eerily, a light helicopter sat there. To Minogue it looked like a big insect. Its blades were claws, its Plexiglass screen a giant eye. Two men in jogging suits stood next to it, smoking. In the floodlights the smoke writhed Hallowe'enish toward the machine. Both men looked up when Minogue and his companion neared the helicopter. Just like that, Minogue was thinking. We're going to walk into this thing, like a bus. One of the two eased into the seat and switched on what sounded like a ventilator fan.
'Are we right?' the other said.
'As right as we'll ever be,' the Special Branch said. He looked at Minogue and said,
'It'll be cold, er… '
'Minogue. Matt Minogue. I'll be all right. How long will this yoke take?'
'We'll be landed and sitting in the customs post within fifty minutes. Less even.'
'Be the hokey fly,' Minogue marvelled. What was that expression? 'I have seen the future and…?'
As the craft lifted and bowed away over the city, Minogue was again stunned. It was incomprehensible that no wires held this thing up. The city was completely changed from here. It fell away under the belly of the helicopter like glowing embers of a coal fire. To the east the sea was in blue darkness. Ahead of them, then veering away, he saw runway lights at the airport. Minute moving lights of cars pulsed along the veins of this thing below. The lights petered out as they tended to the mountains. Minogue sat between the pilot and the Special Branch man. It felt as if he were in their care. The helmeted pilot was shockingly casual about it all, drawing lightly on the stick, commenting into the stalk microphone which stuck out from the gladiator helmet. Over the rotor noise, the Special Branch man shouted.
'I'm Scully, Pat Scully. I forgot.'
Minogue nodded vigorously. This was like a carnival. He tried to identify the constellation of lights ahead of him. Swords? It occurred to him that he wasn't exactly sure what would be happening when they landed. Would they pick up Allen along the road or would they wait until the border? They had time, just about though. The porter at the Pearse Street Gate in Trinity said that Allen had taken his car about an hour ago. He couldn't have made it by then. He'd know better than to try an unapproved road especially after dark. Roving patrols of the British Army and SAS were on the move after dark.
'What's the story up ahead?' Minogue shouted into Scully's ear.
'We're all set up,' Scully replied.
What did that mean? Minogue returned to thinking out the possible outcomes. Did Allen know? Allen would not hand over his car like that. It hadn't been stolen so Allen must have voluntarily given it over. Could it all be a coincidence though? What was there in it for Allen?
The pilot reached over and tipped Scully on the knee, then he pointed to a headset. Scully put it on. Minogue lip read the pilot saying 'go ahead.' Scully searched for a volume control but giving up, cupped hands over his ears. As he listened, he nodded several times. Then he said O.K. He looked over at the pilot who nodded once. Minogue noticed the pilot glancing quickly at him and then back to Scully.
'The car has been spotted. This side of Castlebellingham. Plenty of time,' Scully shouted.
Minogue looked out over a town, marooned in light. A slash in the sky to the west was flooding a scarlet ribbon in the grey.
'Drogheda,' the pilot said, pointing.
'There's someone else in the car.'
'What?' said Minogue, leaning.
'There's someone else in the car. A woman,' Scully shouted.
'What's the plan?' Minogue asked.
'We'll stick to the original,' Scully announced and turned to look at the town passing below. Minogue looked out too. He followed car lights on the outskirts of town. They looked like a video game. A woman. Minogue's heart stopped, then a cold wash fell down through his chest. No, it couldn't be.
Minogue nudged Scully.
'Where will they be picked up?' he shouted. Scully paused before answering.
'At the border.'
Minogue felt an alarm, like waking in the night to a strange sound. He stared at the side of Scully's face. Scully turned again.
'The situation on the ground,' Scully shouted. 'It may change. We have to be ready,' he added, and returned to looking out over the Belfast road. Any minute now, they'd be overtaking the car.
The cold was biting into Minogue's shoes and under his chin. He no longer noticed the noise. He began to count but his heart was racing. He thought of Ravel and the tea at home in the oven waiting for him. Allen's face kept interrupting his images. Then he saw Agnes McGuire's face clearly in the darkness below.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Agnes sat up on the seat as they slowed, entering Dundalk.
'They called it El Paso, the locals,' she murmured.
'I shouldn't wonder,' Allen replied.
'Doesn't look bad at night, does it?' Agnes said.
Allen guessed it was eight miles from the border, give or take.
'Tell me, Agnes, do you get nervous crossing the border? Going North, I mean.'
'I'm going home, so I am. What's to be nervous about?' Touche, thought Allen. Stop treating her like she's wounded. As they pulled away from a traffic light, Allen noticed a car parked in a sidestreet. It was half up on the kerb. A double yellow line ran under the car. Briefly he noted the outline of two figures in it. He caught a momentary glint of an antenna as he accelerated through the junction.
'I suppose 'irritated' is the word. I don't like men with guns and costumes or uniforms looking at me. It's all so silly. Sometimes you forget it's serious. I find myself laughing, then crying,' Agnes said.
Part of Allen's mind discounted what he had seen. Dundalk was a border town so you'd expect police.
'It's like a game, isn't it?' Agnes murmured.
That had to be routine here. He looked in the mirror but no car emerged from the street.
'Yes. I suppose,' Allen replied.
That was the way it had been those years ago, a game. At least that was how he looked at it. In an instant he had felt the full weight of an adult world when the girl's parents opened the door to the garage. He had run, but he knew that he could run nowhere but home. Despite admitting it to the policeman who sat in the kitchen chair where his father used to sit, his mother kept saying it was impossible, that she knew her own son. She didn't listen
