'Melvin, tell them you're OK.' I jabbed the pistol a little harder into his neck to underline the point.
'The safety catch is off, Melvin. I've got my finger on the trigger. Just tell them everything's OK.. It ain't worth it, mate.'
Ron blurted, 'I'll do it.'
Another demand: 'Unit Sixty-two, respond.'
I said, 'Put your right hand up and answer with your left.
Kelly, be very quiet, OK?'
She nodded. Ron pressed his radio.
'Hello, Control. We've checked. Everything's fine.'
'Roger, Unit Sixty-two, your report timed at twenty-two thirteen.'
Ron clicked off.
Kelly immediately went back into crying mode and sank to the floor. I was stuck in the doorway with a pistol to Melvin's neck, and Ron, who still had a weapon in his holster, was facing me from the middle of the room.
'When all's said and done, Ron, if you don't play the game, Melvin's going to die--and then you're going to die.
Do you understand me?'
Ron nodded.
'OK, Ron, let's see you turn around.'
He did.
'Get on your knees.'
He did. He was about four feet from Kelly, but as long as she stayed still she wasn't in the line of fire.
Melvin was sweating big-time. My hand was slipping on his forehead. There were even droplets running down the top-slide. His shirt was so wet I could make out the shape of his body armor underneath.
I said, 'With your left hand, Ron, I want you to lift out your pistol. Very slow, and use just your thumb and forefinger.
Then I want you to move it to your left-hand side and drop it.
Do you understand me, Ron?'
Ron nodded.
I said, 'Tell him, Melvin, tell him not to fuck around.'
'Listen to the man, Ron.'
Ron gently removed his pistol from its holster and dropped it on the floor.
'What I want you to do now, with your left hand, is get hold of your handcuffs, and I want you to drop them just behind you. Understand?'
Ron complied. I turned my attention to Melvin, who was starting to tremble. I spoke quietly in his ear.
'Don't worry about it, you're going to live. You'll be talking to your grandchildren about this. Just do exactly what I say. Understand?'
He nodded.
I turned to Ron and said, 'Now lie down, Ron. Facedown on the floor.'
Ron spreadeagled himself and was now under control. I said, 'What I'm going to do next, Melvin, is take one step back, and this pistol is going to leave your neck--but it's still going to be pointing at your head, so don't get any ideas.
Once I've stepped back, I'm then going to tell you to kneel down--do you understand me?'
He nodded, and I took a swift step backward. I wanted to be out of arm's reach from him right away; I didn't want him doing some kind of heroic pirouette to grab the gun or knock it out of the way.
'OK, kneel down, then lie down. Just like Ron. Now put your hand next to Ron's.'
I now had both of them lying facedown, forearms together.
I moved behind them, picked up the handcuffs, and with the pistol stuck in Melvin's ear, I locked his left wrist to Ron's right. I then took Melvin's handcuffs from their holster, stepped back, and said, 'I want you to arch your bodies and move your free hands around so they're together as well. Both understand me? Believe me, boys, I want to get this over and done with; I just want out of here.'
I finished the job. They weren't going anywhere. I took their wallets and threw them into the bag. I took Melvin's radio and kept it with me, and took the battery out of Ron's and threw it into the bag. At the same time, I grabbed the roll of gaffer tape. I started with their legs, then used the tape to bind their heads together as well. I put a final strip around their necks, and another around their mouths. I checked that both were breathing through their noses, then dragged them into the hallway--no small job, but I didn't want them to see what I was going to do next.
I looked at Kelly, pressed against the study wall. She looked pathetic. This must have been terrible for her. She'd been looking forward so much to coming home, only to find it wasn't the place she'd been expecting. It wasn't only that her family was missing; everything that was familiar to her was drenched in chemicals, shoved to one side, or simply not there.
I heard myself saying, 'Why don't you go and see if your teddies are there.'
She turned and ran. I heard her rattling up the now uncarpeted stairs.
I went into the study, crouched down by the baseboard, and, at last, was able to open the gun box. There was nothing inside but a lone floppy disk.
I put the chair back by the desk and lifted up the PC. I soon had it working. There was no password protection, probably deliberately. If anything happened to Kev, he'd want the whole world to read what was on the disk.
I clicked open various files but found nothing interesting.
Then I found one called Flavius; I knew I'd hit pay dirt. It was the code name of the Gibraltar operation.
I started reading. Kev had found out pretty much what Big Al had told me--that PIRA's connection with the cartels originated when it started running drugs for the Colombians up through North Africa and into Gibraltar for distribution in Spain and the rest of Europe. PIRA was good at the job, and the cartels paid well.
After a while, PIRA had also begun to use the drug trade to raise some of its own money, funds collected by Noraid in the USA. Big sums were involved; Kev's figures showed that Sinn Fein had been netting more than $ 1,000,000 a year.
These donations had been invested in narcotics, transported to Europe, and then bartered for arms and explosives in the old Eastern-bloc countries. It was a business marriage made in heaven; PIRA had the drugs, the East Europeans had the weapons. The downfall of the USSR and the rise of the Russian mafia couldn't have been better timed.
I had to get back into work mode. I couldn't just sit there reading. I was in a house with two policemen and one pissed-off little girl. I ejected the floppy disk and put it in my coat pocket.
The controller from hell came back on the net.
'Unit Sixty-two, do you copy?'
Shit.
I went into the hall.
'Ron, time to speak up.'
Ron looked at me, and I knew he was going to fuck with me. His face was a picture of defiance. I moved over to them and pulled the tape off their mouths. Ron was the first to talk:
'You answer it, because we can't. You won't kill us, not for that.'
Control went up an octave.
'Unit Sixty-two!'
Ron had a point.
'Kelly! Kelly! Where are you?'
'Coming--I just found Ricky.'
I stepped back over my two new friends toward Kelly, who was coming down the stairs. There was no time to be sympathetic or nice.
'Get your coat and shoes on quick!'
I got all the stuff together, put my running shoes on, and checked that Ron and Melvin weren't choking to death on the gaffer tape. Both looked quite happy with themselves but were still thinking of a good excuse for why
